An open hearted request for support, please

There is a long story and a short story; I shall begin short and then if you wish to continue reading for more history and context the long story is below. The long story short is that I am travelling in 2 weeks time to Zimbabwe following inner guidance, an invitation and a deep calling. If I am to move freely and follow that guidance I need to ask, please, for some financial support. My birthday is coming up at the beginning of March, I don't have anyone close to me that gives me birthday gifts unless I ask my wider community for presents; which is a weird and humbling edge of course. So, I genuinely am not asking for more than anyone can afford to give and that which is freely given with love. If you have it, if you are willing to support the trip, then thank you... I am open to receive and grateful:

https://www.paypal.com/pools/c/9mduYV6Nad

Here is the longer story...

I have been invited to Zimbabwe to stay with one of the death doula community at the Kufunda community just outside of Harare. There are many connections and threads weaving through Zimbabwe for me so that it has always felt inevitable that one day I will go. I have twice taken the Death Doula work to Cape Town in South Africa, a very different experience I am sure. The experiences I had of taking the Work there were powerful, layered, nuanced, extraordinary, difficult, wonderful, terrible at times, mind-blowing, ultimately sweet times. The first time I landed in Cape Town was during a taxi strike and a British tourist who took a wrong turn into the townships by the airport had been murdered in front of his children. All my South African friends were texting me tense messages of "be careful" and "be safe"; I got an uber (ie not one of the striking taxis) to my airbnb where I planned to land and acclimatise; I was met by the owner who advised I should be in by nightfall and showed me how to triple lock myself inside. Coming from Wales where at no time in my life have I ever locked my door I tried my best to not allow the fear and warnings to infiltrate my consciousness. Trust in God, say the sufis, but tie your camel to a tree. So take sensible precautions... but don't live in fear.

Having triple locked myself inside alone a great wind started up coming in off the ocean, a storm, the power went out. The howling, screaming wind was between the roof and the ceiling ratting. The outside furniture was being slammed against the door of the bedroom. I was exhausted and initially fell into a deep sleep where I dreamt I was in the same space awake, there were people arriving, people who needed carers, and their carers, a gathering, young people, old people. I left my bed only to return to find it full. I could hear the wind howling upstairs (there was no upstairs in "real life" only in the dream); I sensed there was a window open. I went upstairs, I could see a long corridor, I had to swallow my fear, there was an open window at the end. I went to the end, I could see a rabbit clinging to the outside of the windowsill, it wanted rescuing but as I reached for it, it fell. This was a horror moment, the window slammed shut, I looked back along the corridor I had come along, a full screaming force hit me in the face.

I woke up but the screaming continued, the wind was still in the loft space, but now in the waking consciousness my room was still full; I did not feel unsafe, I felt curious and cautious but I was OK. I breathed and centred in my heart and asked who they were? They laughed wholehearted belly laughs. I felt them coming close to me like curious cows in a field all nuzzling me energetically trying to work me out. I knew they were The Dead but they were not like the dead I had met before. I introduced myself outloud "I am Alexandra Grace Derwen, defender of humanity by the grace of the oaks, I come from Wales. My work is with the dying, dead and bereaved; I come here because my people have forgotten how to honour their dead and their ancestors, I come because my people are so very sick. I come in peace." I could feel the energy soften in their curiosity. I said to them " you are Joyous Dead aren't you?" they laughed and I said "forgive me my curiosity, as a European I have never met Joyous Dead before!" and with that I dropped any guard I had, they rushed into every corner of me whooping and laughing and dancing. I writhed in joy in the storm cradled bed also whooping and laughing with ecstasy.

And that was my first encounter with "Afrika" (the spirit of Africa) and the Unseen Landscape of that formidable place. I had prepared myself deeply for my travels, I had sent spiritual emissaries ahead to prepare the way and I had also asked my South African hosts to connect me where possible to the indigenous peoples so I could present myself humbly and account for my presence. There are many many stories that followed, from that first visit to the second. I certainly got put through my spiritual paces! As someone who travels with the posture of ancestral atonement, ie I believe that the liberation of humankind is bound up with rituals of atonement for the legacy of Empire; I move in a way that means I invite experiences that show me where I am still unhealed in terms of the pernicious lie of white "supremacy", where am I unconscious of my privilege, where am I still acting in harmful ways; so the experiences I had in Africa that showed me those gaps in my awareness were some of the most painful experiences of my life; and I can't collapse and cry about it... that's a very white thing to do!

One of the most common things that cynics and critics say to me is how arrogant and insignificant it is to make rituals of atonement for the legacy of empire alone; on whose behalf? To whom? But, my friends, I am just getting started. When the time is right, the right circumstances and people and opportunities will present themselves I am sure; for now I am in training, getting physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually fit enough to do that major ancestral work. So no... I don't and cannot act on behalf of the British people or the crown or white people at large. But I act for myself, to move through the world in such a way that at least I am conscious and at least I am humble and at least I am willing to atone. I consider the rituals of atonement that I make to be homeopathic doses, tiny seeds of the remedy, the butterfly wings that might just one day become a tsunami.

I did go, last time I was in South Africa, to the Cecil Rhodes memorial and look the bronze bust in the eye and tell him "fuck you Cecil" before performing my poem on the steps that starts with the verse "do you remember the days when the King sailed to Africa to return the Crown Jewels, on his knees with complete and sincere regret he softly wept as he spoke words of contrition and made rituals to the mines by laying the diamonds on soft beds of moss and denouncing the spells upon them that bound us all in this teetering house of cards..." (the link to the whole poem I'll put at the end). I offered to the Earth the nettle twine and prayer beads collected on my ritual of laments tour of UK and Ireland; full of the shared collective intent of the people who came and lamented with me to add their voices to the need for ancestral atonement. How much meaning all this has, to the cynics, I don't know but this is definitely one of the clearest guidances I have on how to act in the world and no, I don't always fully understand it.

So, I am different person now since my trips to South Africa; my mother died and I am released from that care burden. The cosmic and ecstatic process of the mourning times have shaped me differently; I mean, will Africa still recognise me? I may have to reintroduce myself! The invitation to Zimbabwe, at first, I thought could have been a "job of work" through the Sacred Circle CIC but as I tuned in I got a message from the Mystery that this trip is different. To fund it myself instead of using company money, to travel as if it is a holiday, to take time to rest, to listen and to just yield and receive the wisdom of the land and people without needing to be anything or do anything or deliver anything, per se. So, when I received the blessing of some money donated for my early 2026 death doula-ing since it was the cost of the flights I booked them; I took it as a sign. And yet, I weigh up what my time in Zimbabwe might involve and while I could just stay in Kufunda and eat vegetables from the land and rest; there are invitations, opportunities and adventures that actually will need financing. And as of yet I am not earning surplus to my mortgage and bills from my work; I organised to go to Zurich and Berlin to try to raise funds for Zimbabwe, but no... so far making a loss! This happens often for me when I try to force work only for money. And it leads me back to a familiar and uncomfortable edge... asking for help.

I often joke with people that my life is pretty much crowdfunded! But joking aside it actually is. It has lost me friends over the years, usually those trapped in a job they don't love snap at me to "get a fucking job". I have a job by the way, I am managing director and lead facilitator of Sacred Circle CIC, I am a writer, author of 3 books, poet and explainer of things. It's not all that lucrative I'll give you that (yet) but it is not like I am not gainfully employed or contributing to society. The days of me getting a fucking job have passed; how do I know? Because I have tried! I have tried and tried and every time I get led back to what I am doing in the way that I am doing it, doing it to the best of my ability and when I am struggling... ask for help. Be open to receive, allow people to help, surrender the shame and the pride and the ego; just ask.

So let me share with you some of what I might be doing in Zimbabwe, resources permitting. Of course I will get to stay at Kufunda and meet those wonderful people and get to rest and take some time out from the work. My goodness I do need a holiday. I can also travel to different villages to meet the contacts of friends, to meet people living and working in a way that I find deeply inspiring. I want to learn and listen and receive insights both from the people and the more-than-human but I want to do that in a respectful and not-extractive way; so I want to have financial resource to bring food or leave a donation and be honourable, not just take. I feel the call to the Caves, again - I always lament in mines and caves. I will need resourcing to do that. I hope to meet a contact of a friend who is developing a community hospice. And other community projects; all of which I need to support in some way.

I also have a dream to visit Victoria Falls; that's truly a holiday treat for me. My birthday gift. It is actually eye wateringly expensive to visit Victoria Falls - flights, a hotel, $50 ticket to go in, malaria tablets... everything has a cost.

So, when I drew up a budget for the 2 weeks I will be there I was getting on for £1000 so that is what the target is on the crowdfunding link - if I get more, I will share more, if I get less I am still going but the gift you would be giving would be the choice and freedom to move and connect more so I hope that this works. If it was meant to be that I grafted for this money myself then the work in Zurich and Berlin would have yielded, it's not like we didn't try. So, here I am back to asking my networks and community for support please, and forgive me if it offends you, it's just my way it seems.

https://www.paypal.com/pools/c/9mduYV6Nad