The Goddess, the Cat and the Driver
On signs, signals and connection
About a year and a half after I left the patriarchal, oppressive cult I was raised in, the Goddess Isis visited me in a dream. I knew very little about her at the time, but I recognized her immediately. She looked exactly as she’s portrayed in paintings and sculptures. But she also presented herself in a very human way. Her energy was warm, inviting and friendly. She wanted me to know that we belonged to each other, and for years and years I claimed her as my goddess. I wore a necklace around my neck, I created an altar with a beautiful figure of her in the center. She was trying to bring me into her embrace, her wings. I remember knowing that without a doubt. But I wasn’t ready.
I had given myself no time to heal or to process what I had just experienced. Leaving a cult. Being shunned. Being a newly divorced, single mother of two. Starting college. Having new sexual experiences, most of them impulsive and high risk. I thought I was being brave and bold. Maybe I was to an extent. But my energy was scattered. The closer I got to my own divine, ,spiritual path, I self sabotaged. I always felt…haunted.
Right before I left the cult, I was living with my parents. After an eight day stay in a psychiatric ward with a roommate who introduced me to astrology, I bought a big fat book that blended both western and eastern astrology. My father saw it and told me to burn it immediately. After I left, I got into tarot. But just as my practice was deepening, I had an experience with a family member that brought me a lot of shame around it. So, I abandoned my study.
I’ve abandoned my path and myself repeatedly. At times I’ve been so lost that I don’t know who I am or what I want. This has never been more true as it has been the last few months. I tried to ground myself. I tried pushing through. I tried “surrendering to the process,” whatever the hell that means. I tried reaching out, only to find everyone was too busy, apathetic, or uncomfortable with the situation. Community was non-existent and so was emotional safety.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I have just recently started building a sense of community in two sacred spaces: the Self Love Club–a generative writing workshop hosted by my dear friend Sage, and a tarot class that I make a three hour roundtrip drive to every week. It is so, so worth it.
Little by little, my higher self takes up more space in my body. She alerts me when I spin out over a work situation and let my social anxiety believe everyone hates me or is angry with me. It takes a while for me to listen, but I am finally finding some grounding. As hard as it is, I’m also trying to move from judging and feeling shame over my reactiveness to witnessing it. I’m nowhere close to this right now. It is going to take lots of practice, time, and self-forgiveness which is new to me.
Through a crisis, a manic episode, days and nights on end of panic attacks and insomnia, one thing remained: I stayed committed to my path and the ways it reveals itself to me. I am committed to finding or building an intentional community.
That’s when she came back to me. Isis. Isis is known as the goddess of magic and healing, the mother, a protector of children. She appears to me in dreams and symbols. For instance, for years I’ve owned a pair of Isis earrings. I’m absolutely terrible with my jewelry, constantly losing earrings. I remember seeing one of the earrings while I was moving and noticed that the brass Isis figure had broken off from the rest of the earring. When I decided to start working with Isis again, I just happened to find the Isis figure. I went to my tarot class last week, and there was a figure of Isis which had never been there before, looking down at me. I bought an Isis oracle deck which I’ve been using every single day and the message is always on point.
I painted a picture of Isis and added it to her altar. I light incense and candles for her every day and practice incantations. I ask for guidance, protection and for a deeper knowing and connection with my higher self. All the synchronicities I’ve experienced have only assured me of my path. But this last one, the one I’ll leave you with, has blown me away.
Last Wednesday, as I sat in my work office I heard something that sounded like a baby crying. It turned out to be a tiny, emaciated little tuxedo cat. I abandoned my desk and work and ran outside, bringing my lunch with me. When I saw the terrible shape she was in, I immediately broke up the meat I had and gave her everything. She was timid at first and wouldn’t come to me. She just kept crying. But I pleaded with her, “Please, I just want to help you. Please.” I tossed some pieces of chicken at her until she followed the trail back to me. She knew she was taking a risk, but her hunger outweighed her fears.
I spent what was technically my office hours, outside on and off petting her and getting a better look at her. She was skin and bones. She had an injured paw and was limping. I said, “I only have one more class. Please stay here. All you have to do is stay here and I’ll take you home and you’ll finally be safe.”
I went back into my office for a while. She sat on the picnic table staring at me through the window, as we meowed back and forth to each other.
But when I got off of work, she was gone. I called for her. I searched for her all over the neighborhood, pleading with Isis, begging her for help. When I got home I drank and cried myself to sleep. All I could think about was that helpless little soul out there, pure bones, limping and alone.
On Thursday I wasn’t on campus. I asked a colleague to look out for her but he didn’t see her. On Friday, even though I had almost no hope, I brought cat food and a carrier with me. Just in case.
I had been working for an hour sitting at my desk, occasionally looking out the window where I had seen her before. And then, out of nowhere she jumped up on the picnic table and looked right at me. She decided she was ready. I wasted no time. I dropped everything, got the carrier and brought her into my office. I wasn’t going to take any chances this time.
When I brought her home I immediately called the vet and took her to urgent care. They said she had been abused. Someone had wrapped a hair tie or rubber band around her little paw and it had become necrotic. Now she needs it amputated. All of this is going to cost a small fortune, but this is a life, a soul and I asked for her.
My worst fear was that she was going to test positive for FIV, leukemia or heartworm. Shockingly, she tested negative for all three.
She’s slowly settling in. She mostly sleeps and eats.
The next morning, I heard someone pounding on my door at 8:30 AM. I was ready to lose it. I opened the door and a man with a braided beard greeted me, “Good morning Isis!”
I stood there with my mouth open. What. The. Fuck.
“What?”
“Are you ready to go to the gym, Isis?”
Never in my fucking life would I be ready to go to a gym at 8:30 AM.
“What did you call me?”
“Aren’t you Isis Gonzalez?” Gonzalez happens to be a last name I used for years as an homage to my maternal line.
“No,” I said, “I’m not Isis.”
He looked at my apartment number and I told him that yes, this is in fact the apartment he was looking for, but he had the wrong person.
He went back to his transit bus flustered and confused.
I stood there completely bamboozled.
I lit some incense on my altar. I gave Chloe Grace her medicine and held her for a few minutes before putting her back in the large kennel where she’s being kept safe and gets space from all of my curious fur babies.
I looked up the meaning and purpose of a black and white tuxedo cat coming into a person’s life. From what I gather from different mystical and spiritual websites, they represent harmony, balance and they usher in positive energy and protection. They also serve as reminders to listen to your intuition.
I thought about how Chloe came to my window specifically. How she meowed until I heard her and found her. I don’t know what else might be wrong with Chloe. She might live a week, or a month, or years. All I know is that she was supposed to find me, the way Rusty found me.
Whether Isis is an actual deity, an energy, an archetype, or a goddess you can awaken in yourself, I know whatever I’m doing is working. Chloe Grace would agree.




Thank you for sharing this beautiful story! I needed something hopeful. I cannot believe the gym trainer said Isis!!! OMG. Thank you for saving that baby!
Wow. So beautiful and meaningful.