The First Time I Died

How Death Found a Way For Me to Live & Be Free

The first time I died was in high school when I decided to leave my dad after one too many of his relapses. He was my primary caretaker after my parents split up when I was eight years old. In this ordinary world, it seemed odd for a little girl to stay living with her dad back then in the ’80s. In the non-ordinary world, it was our karma, our souls’ contract with each other.



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Phoebe Leona

As an author, teacher, dancer, curator of nOMad Press, I love empowering people to full embody their lives. Let’s connect at