Remembrance Series: Part I – The Rose, the Dream, and the Doorway

A pilgrimage of memory, medicine and mystery…

The Words That Made My Bones Vibrate

I was in the middle of a 1:1 Akashic Reading when my client—who also happened to be one of the few souls whose podcast deeply resonated with me at the very beginning of my awakening—paused, her voice soft but certain.

Her voice had been a thread I followed through the fog in those early days, when I was still trying to discern what was real, what was resonance, and what was fear. She helped me bridge the unknown. She was a lighthouse in the foggy in-between.

And now, there she was, speaking to me through the screen, with the kind of certainty that makes your bones remember. 

“You know you’re part of the Order of the Rose, right?”

I blinked. “What’s that?”

“You don’t know?” she smiled gently, and gave me a brief explanation. But that moment wasn’t informative—it was catalytic. 

Her words stirred something ancient in me. Like a bell that only I could hear. A code clicking back into place.

That was a couple of months ago.
And now, here I am—unraveling, remembering, recording.

Order of the Rose.

Those words lit a fire in me. And that fire lit what I thought was a new path. But it wasn’t new. It had always been beneath my feet, woven into my breath, hidden in plain sight. I just hadn’t named it, until now. 

And soon you’ll understand why.

So I walked down the path.

Discovering the Order of the Rose

This remembrance journey begins back in October 2021, the month of my awakening. At the time, I was preparing for a move back to Denver from St. Louis. The official relocation wouldn’t be until January 2022, but the soul migration had already begun.

I didn’t realize how disembodied I was back then. I was mind-heavy, spiritually starved, still very much inside the matrix.

Back in Denver, I began working with a therapist—I’ll call her Miranda. She was half clinical, half mystical. One hand in the practical, one hand in the ether. She did Reiki, somatic work, and held space in a way that helped me feel safe enough to begin asking bigger questions. One of those questions was about plant medicine.

**All names used from this point forward have been changed to honor the privacy of those involved.**

I told her during a session: “I feel like I need to work with the medicine. Something is calling me. I don’t go deep in my meditations—I feel like I need help peeling back the layers.”

She just looked at me and said, wide-eyed, “Did you really just ask me that?”

For a split second I thought I had said something wrong.

She shook her head, “No—it’s just wild. I was literally typing in our private Facebook group asking about any upcoming medicine ceremonies in the area. As you spoke, my hands were typing.”

A Prophetic Dream Leads to Plant Medicine

That night, I had a dream.

In it, I was working at McDonald’s, and my manager’s name was Emily. (I actually did have a manager named Emily, at one point, but it wasn’t at McDonald’s…)

I kept calling out her name: “Emily… Emily!” Over and over again, like I needed her.
I also held a baby girl in my arms with piercing green eyes. She wasn’t mine, but I loved her instantly.

The next morning—Wednesday—I checked my email. And there it was.
An introduction email from Miranda… to a woman named… EMILY! My jaw was on the floor!

Emily was the one hosting the upcoming plant medicine ceremony. I was stunned. And when I clicked her website?
The medicine she worked with was Tepezcohuite, grandfather tree medicine—the exact medicine I had tried to sit with on an earlier trip to Tulum.

Let me pause here.

Back in September 2022, I had traveled to Tulum. I met a local man who asked me, “Have you ever communed with Tepezcohuite?”

I hadn’t even heard of it before. I was looking for ayahuasca at the time.
He told me about this tree medicine, how powerful it was, and said he’d check if the shaman was available.

He later told me, that the shaman was in Mérida holding a ceremony.
I didn’t chase it. No worries. If it wasn’t meant to be, I wasn’t going to force it.

Turns out it was, just not yet…

The Rose Inside the Pyramid— My Sacred Sigil

Flash forward to January 2023.
I dreamed the name Emily.
I woke up to an email from someone named Emily.
And she worked with the exact medicine I tried to find in Mexico.

The medicine found me.

We had our discovery call—what was meant to be 20 minutes turned into a soul-deep hour. And when I finally saw her in person, I realized why she looked so familiar.

She had the same green eyes as the baby girl in my dream.
The threads were undeniable now.

The February ceremony was my first. The visuals, the giggles, the revelation—it was all new to me. But the way Emily held space… sacred, clean, loving… I knew I wanted to keep working with her.

So I booked a 1:1 energy healing session.

When I arrived, she said she felt called to do something different than what was originally booked.
I agreed and laid on the table.

We called in the Divine Feminine. And when she asked me, “Who is here?”

I said: “Goddess Isis and Mary Magdalene.”

Mary Magdalene and the Divine Feminine

At that point in my journey, I was more familiar with Goddess Isis. I had called upon her before, danced with her in meditations, felt her regal presence in the quiet. Egyptian mythology had always pulled at something in me I couldn’t name. So when she arrived in that session, I recognized her immediately.

But Mary Magdalene…she was new to me. At least, on a conscious level.

I grew up Catholic. I’d heard heard her name in passing—always paired with shame, with sin, with redemption through a man. That version of her never stuck. I never really knew her. Not in my mind.

But in that moment, her energy came through like warm honey and rose petals. My soul recognized her. Even if my mind hadn’t caught up yet.

Emily then said, “Ask them for your power tools. Sacred objects to help you remember who you are.”

So I did. And I was shown a vision.
A pink rose inside a glowing pyramid of iridescent light.

A symbol. A sigil. A seal.

I spent months searching for a physical version of that symbol—earrings, pendants, anything.

I couldn’t find it. So I let it be.

Divinely Inked—A Portal in the Skin

Until July 17, 2023, in Gili Air, a small, beautiful island in Indonesia.

I was fresh out of my 200-hour yoga teacher training. A new sister from the program invited me to her tattoo session with a bamboo tattoo artist.

I was drawn to his energy. I told him about my vision: the rose and the pyramid. 

He drew it exactly as I saw it in my mind’s eye. 
That was my first tattoo.
But more than that—it was a ritual, a rite of passage.

Tattoos, to me, are portals. They hold memories.
And this one? It sealed my vow.

This wasn’t just a plant medicine story.
This was an initiation. Part two comes soon. Stay close.

With Love and Gratitude,
Dulce Olivia🌹

Originally posted on my Substack on 01 June 2025