Episode 28: Sunshine, Soul Retrieval, and Rainbows: A Conversation with Cypress Willett

Welcome to the Carousel of Happiness Podcast.

On today’s episode, we wrap up our two-part conversation with Seer, Healer, and Artist, Cypress Willet. (Check out Episode 27 to listen to the first part of our conversation.) Join host Allie Wagner as she shares with you what it was like to experience firsthand the shamanic practice of “soul retrieval” with Cypress in Longmont. In what she describes as the single most life-changing experience of her life, she'll take you step-by-step through the process, and you'll learn how to identify the symptoms of soul loss in your own experience. Plus, we share a little bit more about Cypress’s artistic contribution to the carousel and how she used ritual to call a $1.25 million house into her experience. 

If you're interested in working with Cypress, check out her website here: https://singingcypress.com/

If you're interested in adopting a piece of the healing rainbow, check out our website for more information: https://carouselofhappiness.org/getinvolved/adopt-an-animal/

The Carousel of Happiness is a nonprofit arts & culture organization dedicated to inspiring happiness, well-being, and service to others through stories and experiences.

Check out the carousel on the CBS national news! https://www.cbsnews.com/news/carousel-daydream-helped-marine-get-through-vietnam-war-he-then-made-that-carousel-a-reality/

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If you have a story to share, please reach out to Allie Wagner at outreach@carouselofhappiness.org

Special thanks to songwriter, performer, and friend of the carousel, Darryl Purpose (https://darrylpurpose.com/), for sharing his song, "Next Time Around," as ou...

Transcript

Welcome to the Carousel of Happiness Podcast. I’m your host, Allie Wagner. 

On last week’s episode, we met Seer, Healer, and Artist Cypress Willett. We talked about her journey from ER nurse to healer and artist, how ritual allows her to communicate with her helping spirits, and how she put Archangel Michael to the test. And, at the end of our conversation, she generously invited me to experience her shamanic services firsthand.

On today’s episode, I’ll share with you what it was like to experience the shamanic practice of “soul retrieval” with Cypress. I went down to her healing space in Longmont a couple of weeks ago, and had one of the single most life-changing experiences of my life. Truly. So, I’ll tell you about that, plus, I’ll share a little bit more about Cypress’s artistic contribution to the carousel, how she used ritual to call a $1.25 million house into her experience, and how you can identify the symptoms of soul loss.

Let us begin with today’s story.

GONG

When you enter the carousel house and look up, high above the mechanism itself, sweeping around the entire building, you’ll see a series of 12 brightly colored stained glass windows. The panels run from reds and oranges into yellows and greens, followed by indigos and violets. Each panel has its own pattern and texture, its own energy and vibe, but together, they encircle the carousel in the light and color of a rainbow.

And when the sun hits them just right, depending on the time of day, they cast brilliantly colorful shadows on the people and animals below, bathing the carousel house in warm swaths of dappled color and light.

Looking up at the stained glass, it’s hard to believe that it wasn’t always here.  There’s something about it that feels indigenous to the carousel, native. Like it was born here. Like it was meant to be here.

But, the truth is, the stained glass windows are, in fact, a new addition to the carousel. In 2023, Cypress Willett was at the carousel for a fundraiser as part of the Warrior Storyfield. At the event itself, Scott was talking to someone new, someone he had never met before, telling him about the carousel, specifically, how he wanted to incorporate stained glass into the ceiling to infuse the carousel house with color and to give it some carnival vibes.

The person Scott happened to be talking to was a close friend of Cypress,’ who knew she was an artist who had been working in stained glass for several years. 

Scott and Cypress got in touch to talk about the project, and her helping spirits were right there. Calling to her. Guiding her.

In the form of a rainbow. 

Rainbows had always been teachers to Cypress. According to her, the medicine of the rainbow, the lesson it has to teach us, is the ability to find perfection in the imperfections. Rainbows teach us to have complete and total faith in the great mystery of life, they encourage us to trust in our own inner guidance, and they inspire us to have faith in the unwavering support of the Universe. 

Scott loved the idea. And he loved her vision. It sounded like a perfect fit for the Carousel of Happiness.

Cypress isn’t alone in her appreciation of rainbows. They are celebrated in many cultures and are often considered symbols of hope that promise better times to come. Rainbows teach us there’s beauty on the other side of the storm. 

And we see rainbows everywhere in human storytelling. God sent Noah a rainbow, Dorothy went Somewhere Over the Rainbow, and leprechauns hid their stash at the end of the rainbow.

Rainbows have meaning for the Aboriginal people of Australia and the ancient Greeks and Romans. Rainbows are present in Norse mythology and Japanese myth; they mean something to the Hindu, Chinese, and Mayan people. 

Cypress believes all art carries medicine and stained glass is a way of capturing that medicine in the form of both light and color. Each color of the rainbow has its own healing vibration. Its own frequency, its own medicine.

And when they’re put together, we can experience the wide range of healing energy possible in the human experience.

Cypress practices what she calls “shamanic art,” meaning she brings her energy work as a healer to her artistic pieces. 

Which means, when she sat down to work on the stained glass for the carousel, Cypress called in the energetic frequencies and wavelengths of each of the colors she used. For example, reds are considered energizing and lift our heart rate, they stimulate our circulation; oranges support emotional balance and stimulate creativity; and blues are soothing and support mental clarity. 

So, Cypress channelled all of this healing energy into the piece. She also imagined the joy the glass would bring to children visiting the carousel and added that energy to the work. She also remembered personal experiences with rainbows. She told me about a time on a trip to Scotland when she saw 21 rainbows in 23 days. And, notably, only got rained on once. 

All of that thought energy and knowledge went into the stained glass. All of that energy is why it feels so beautiful, so perfect, and so healing. 

And I want to pause for a moment to highlight that Scott did his version of this when he carved the carousel. Remember, before he carved an animal, he would go to the library and look up information about each animal – where it lived, what it symbolized, and what it meant to the human beings who lived near it.

And he would put little letters or poems or momentos inside each animal to keep this energy with them. While Scott might not consider himself to be a shaman or a shamanic artist at all, I do think it’s interesting to note the similarities in their artistic processes.

*

I wake up early on my Soul Retrieval Day. Even though it’s Saturday morning, I can’t help it. There’s something about the idea of getting my soul back that gives me some serious “Christmas Morning” vibes.

I arrive at Cypress’s healing space in Longmont early; I’m eager to see it. The Oak, as it is known, is a massive 5,000 square foot, 19th Century farmhouse where Cypress lives with two other healers. It’s situated on several acres, with beautiful grounds, complete with mature Cottonwoods and fragrant lilac bushes. The garden is chockfull of healing plants like burdock and nettle. There are large rooms for healing sessions, rituals, classes, workshops, and dance parties. 

Cypress told me about The Oak in our interview. Remember how important she thinks ritual is? Well, there’s a reason she loves it so much. Not only can ritual fix your expensive blender, but, as it turns out, it can bring to you the perfect house outside your budget.

A couple of years ago, when Cypress was going through a divorce, she was looking for a place to live. As she wandered around the backwoods of Longmont on a cold February day, she stumbled upon this massive, gorgeous house. It was perfect.

And it was for sale.

But for a whole lot more money than she had.

She reached out to her guides and told them about this place. Told them why she loved it. What she planned to do there. She asked them for this “or something better.”

And her guides got to work.

Shortly after seeing The Oak, Cypress received an eviction notice. Her place was being sold. Now, she definitely needed to move.

The next day, her friend, one of the healers she now lives with, received an eviction notice too.

Since they didn’t have the money for The Oak, which was over a million dollars, they started looking for other places. They also started working with ritual. Asking their helping spirits for guidance and support during this transition. Asking them to help find a place for them to live and do their healing work. They asked that the place come to them easily, on budget, and in perfect timing.

And they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Two weeks before she needed to move, Cypress still had no place to live. She and her roommates had found another place, but it fell through. Plus, it didn’t feel right at all.

Then, nothing.

That’s when she started to worry. Dare I say, freak out just a little bit. 

One day, in between freak outs, she heard a voice in her mind. It told her, “search on Craigslist.”

Fine, she thought. Whatever. At this point, she desperately needed a place to live. At least she might be able to find something tolerable until she found the right place.

So she pulled up Craiglist and searched for available rentals, expecting to find more of the same.

And there it was. The Oak. 

For rent.

And the price? It was exactly what she and her roommates could afford. 

They moved in shortly thereafter. Right on time.

*

So, I’m sitting on the porch of this giant farmhouse, knowing the story of it,  overlooking the pool, mind you. Yes, it has a pool. And I can’t help but get excited. If she was able to do this, to bring this into her life, what would she be able to do for me?

Cypress asks me about what my personal goals are for the session. What was it that brought me to her? How did I hope to feel when I was done?

I tell her I have the sense something happened when I was little. When I was seven, my mom got diagnosed with non hodgkin's lymphoma, we moved overseas for the first time, and I broke my arm. All in the span of a couple of months. 

And there’s something about that time period that feels like a pivot moment. A moment that separates time into buckets – “before” and “after.”

Before that time, I have brightly colored memories of being a silly, silly little girl. Before was a time of sunshine and creativity. I remember dancing and laughing, running around outside, swimming in the pool. I was a delightfully feral, sweet little girl.

“After” that time period, however, my memories feel different. Their colors more muted. The details, fuzzier. That time, in my mind, feels more sepia toned than the era that preceded it.

And there’s something that’s always nagged me. I don’t remember how I broke my arm. I know it happened the first day my mom got chemotherapy. We were living in Spain at the time, but the closest military facility that offered treatment was in Germany. So, she traveled back and forth every month, for four years, to get treatment. 

And the day of her first treatment I remember playing on the jungle gym in our neighborhood. And then, just like that, I remember being in the ER. No recollection of what happened, though I do remember lying to the doctor about what happened. And I don’t typically lie. 

And I hadn’t thought about this memory in a long time, but recently, coincidentally (or not), an acquaintance asked me if I ever had broken any bones.

At first, I told him no. And then after a beat, I remembered my arm. 

But for the last 30ish or so years, I hadn’t thought about it. I moved on. I lived my life not realizing something was missing. Not realizing it wasn’t normal to feel the way I felt inside. 

I didn’t know it wasn’t normal to feel a constant, nagging, low-grade hum of anxiety underneath everything you do. I didn’t know it wasn’t normal to feel a pit in your stomach when you do everything. I had gotten so used to ignoring it. So used to tuning it out.

But, as I mentioned last week, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the sensations. Each step I took toward doing things in my life that mattered to me, the louder and stronger the sensations would become. 

But, I’m tough. I just ignored it and did what I needed to do.

But I couldn’t do that any longer, which is why I was sitting on her porch. I was tired of feeling yucky, and I wanted to feel better.

And, apparently, I’m not alone.

Soul loss is a common occurrence in human society and it can go unrecognized for years, if not lifetimes, because we don’t really talk about it in Western culture. 

There are many causes of soul loss, to include trauma, illness, and situations of high stress. During these moments a small portion of your soul’s energy can fracture and leave. It does this in order to avoid the trauma and preserve itself. It does this to  protect itself.

Other common causes of soul loss are grief, shame and guilt, codependency, or substance abuse.

But another, more widely common cause of soul loss is not being true to oneself, by disowning or disallowing parts of yourself in order to “fit in” to the collective.

In fact, most modern soul loss isn’t caused by traumatic events, per se, but by us voluntarily hiding a part of our own soul away to fit in with our families and our cultures. We dismiss parts of ourselves in order to avoid rejection, criticism, punishment, or shame. 

Symptoms of soul loss include a felt loss of connection with one’s surroundings, oneself, or one’s body; sensations of feeling empty, feeling numb, or not feeling anything. Memory loss is a symptom of soul loss, as is repetitive negative behavior patterns, like being involved with the same type of unhealthy partner over and over again. 

People who experience soul loss are often attracted to powerful people, in the hopes that that power will rub off on them and fill the hole they feel inside. Those who have experienced soul loss find it difficult to fully experience joy and often always have a reason for not being able to do the things they want to do. They often find themselves blocked and fearful, unable to take the next step.

Soul loss can also be evident if you look to replace the felt emptiness inside with your career, with drugs, with social media, sex, or alcohol. Those constantly seeking a “quick fix” might also be experiencing soul loss. 

As we are talking on the porch, Cypress explains that she typically does not receive information about the reason or event that triggered the soul fracture; she only can confirm that it has returned and share the knowledge of gifts it brings along with it. She wants to make sure I’m okay with not knowing why part of me split. 

In the end, I tell Cypress I just want to feel like myself again. I just want to feel alive again. 

*

After chatting on the porch, Cypress brings me out to the garden to meet the plants who will support my journey today. Burdock and dahlia have joined the healing team already. She asks me how I feel about nettle; they’ve been calling to her and she’d like to use them with me. 

“Sure,” I say.

Let’s get started.

She has me lie down on a massage table with a grounding mat on top of it. She pulls what must have been a 30-pound furry blanket up over my body. It’s hot outside, but the air conditioning keeps us cool. I feel like I’m in a womb.

She puts plants on various parts of my body, she calls in the help of her guides and mine. She walks me through a meditation to relax as she plays the drum. Each step of the way, she guides me. Each step of the way, she explains what she’s doing and why.

And I realize in this moment that that is why I felt called to work with her in the first place. Cypress is direct, confident, and calm and she moves around me on the table. I feel held. I feel guided. I feel supported. 

Remember that “nurse energy” we talked about last week. She’s got it, big time. And I know whatever comes my way, we can handle it together. Because she’s done the work, she’s done the training, and she can hold space for big feelings. Even mine. 

First, she does some energy work to prepare my body for my soul’s return. She gives me Reiki, she massages my belly. 

Then she brings in the healing plants. She puts nettles on my belly and my forehead. They sting. She encourages me to relax into the discomfort, rather than retracting from it. The message feels like a metaphor for my life. I relax a little. And it hurts a little less.

As I lay there with the nettles, she starts beating the drum. She’s now journeying to find my soul. To bring Her back to me.

After a few minutes, or an eternity, I’m not exactly sure, I hear Cypress’s voice. She’s found Her. And she is, indeed, seven years old.

She tells me she’ll guide Her back into my body through my belly and my crown. Apparently, it might take her a minute or two. She’s is pretty big.

I am still with anticipation as she blows in the direction of my belly. She blows a couple more times before moving to my crown. A few minutes later, and She’s back. We are together again. 

Cypress tells me she’s going to leave the two of us alone for a few minutes, to give us some time to get acquainted. Cypress tells me I can ask Her questions. She tells me She will guide me in the integration process.

Cypress is quick to remind me that my soul is untainted by whatever trauma caused her to split. She is pure essence. Cypress advises me to approach reintegration as me learning from Her, me being attuned to Her, rather than bringing Her to where I am.

Cypress leaves the room and I feel around inside my body. I do feel different. The parts of my body that previously felt empty or numb in the past, now feel spacious and roomy. The vacant areas now vibrate with energy, sensation, and possibility. The low-grade hum of anxiety is gone, the fear, silent. 

I tell my soul I am sorry. I start to cry. I promise Her whatever happened will never happen again. I ask for forgiveness, and I thank Her for coming back.

We’ve only been together for a couple of weeks now, but my soul and I are enjoying each other’s company. And I see outward indications that life is different – my relationships have improved; I feel more positive and upbeat; and life seems easy and doable now. I can feel a lightness to my beingness that I’m only starting to understand and, in turn, be able to describe.

If you are interested in learning more about Cypress’s services, check out her website in the show notes. She is accepting new clients now and her work is capable of addressing a wide range of physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual ailments. If you are like me, and have had something going on for longer than you can remember, it might be time to pay her visit. 

Or, you can support both her and the carousel by adopting a panel of the stained glass rainbow. Each individual stained glass panel is up for permanent adoption, and you can honor someone you love for ever and ever with the healing medicine of her work. Check out the show notes for more information.

In the meantime, take care. Be well. And, as we like to say at the Carousel of Happiness, “don’t delay joy.” And we’ll see you next time around.