From Wicked to Wise

By Dr Shuna Marr

I’ve just been gifted an experience that feels deeply significant—a full-circle moment—not just for me but for how we collectively view the world, and I’d love to share it with you.

It was my 64th birthday yesterday, and after being treated to an amazing tapas lunch by my daughter Roslyn, we were sitting in the cinema enjoying the movie version of Wicked. As the film reached its climax, there was a moment where Elphaba is hanging in the sky on her broomstick, her cape streaming behind her, singing about defying gravity—but also defying those trying to bring her down—and I felt myself flooded with emotions.

Not just for the power of the performance, but what it represented for me personally and for the larger narrative we’re all co-creating.

That felt such a full-circle moment because it took me back 60 years ago to the day, to my 4th birthday, when my mum took me to see The Wizard of Oz in the cinema. Back then, I was so terrified of the Wicked Witch of the West screeching through the sky that we had to leave.

At four, I was too young to understand the deeper messages of the film, but I’d picked up that the witch was bad and that we were all to be fearful of her—fear of the witch, fear of her power, fear of the unknown.

But yesterday, as I sat watching Wicked, the story took on an entirely new meaning.

Here was Elphaba, misunderstood and vilified, standing in her power and defying the distortions around her. The fear I once felt gave way to awe as I witnessed her journey—not as a villain but as a heroine. This retelling reclaims her story, showing her as a multi-dimensional character navigating a world that sought to label and diminish her.

I was struck by the contrast between the perspective of my four-year-old self and me today.

The little girl who once cowered in fear of the Wicked Witch has grown into a woman who uses tools like tarot cards and a crystal ball to gain insights. In days gone by, I might have been branded a witch myself, but what was once feared and condemned is now seen by many as a gift.

This full-circle moment brought me face to face with the cultural conditioning we’ve all been steeped in—the way the feminine and feminine power have been distorted over time.

Historically, witches were often wise women, deeply connected to the land and their intuition, yet they were vilified, cast as evil and wicked. It was a narrative designed to instil fear, to strip women of their power and connection to the divine feminine.

Back in 1939, when The Wizard of Oz was made, and even in 1964, when I first watched it, the narrative was clear: there were good witches and bad witches, and the Wicked Witch of the West was the ultimate adversary. She was to be feared and destroyed. We were all expected to cheer when she was.

But even then, cracks in the story began to appear.

The “wizard” was revealed as nothing more than a showman using smoke and mirrors—a metaphor, perhaps, for the hierarchical structures that once held power over us but are now being dismantled.

In contrast, Wicked is a story for our time.

It reclaims the narrative, showing us a new perspective. Elphaba is no longer a two-dimensional villain but a symbol of empowerment and resistance against the distorted masculine structures that sought to suppress her. Her journey mirrors the collective shift we’re experiencing—the breaking down of old paradigms and the emergence of a more balanced, awakened perspective.

Reflecting on this moment, I’m reminded of my own journey.

Recently, I’ve been revisiting the threads of my life, particularly comparing where I was seven years ago to where I am now. If you’d like to explore this more deeply, I’ve shared my reflections in a case study, The Life Chrysalis: Manifesting my 5D Life, which you can freely access here.

Yesterday felt like a similar comparison, but this time between my four-year-old self and the woman I’ve become at 64.

That little girl, frightened and unsure, couldn’t have imagined the life I would create. Yet, here I am, not only rewriting my own narrative but helping others do the same.

These shifts aren’t just individual; they’re collective.

As each of us heals and awakens, we contribute to a ripple effect that transforms the consciousness of society.

Stories like Wicked and Maleficent are part of this shift. They challenge the old archetypes, giving us new ways to see the world and ourselves. They remind us that the villains of yesterday may have been the misunderstood heroes all along. And as we embrace these new narratives, we inspire others to rewrite their own.

The rewriting of The Wizard of Oz into Wicked is such a tangible example of co-creation at work. One person planted the seed by reimagining Elphaba’s story, but it was the collective openness to that reimagining that allowed it to take hold and inspire further change.

We’re not just witnesses to these shifts; we’re active participants in them.

Every time we individually break free from fear, conditioning, or outdated narratives, we help create a ripple effect that transforms the wider story.

That four-year-old me was steeped in the narrative of fear and hierarchy, but 64-year-old me is embodying a new narrative entirely—one of awareness, empowerment, and multidimensional understanding.

As I reflect on this full-circle moment, I’m reminded of how interconnected we all are. Our awakening doesn’t just benefit ourselves—it’s part of the grand weave of the collective consciousness, unravelling the old and reweaving something far more expansive.

We are both the storytellers and the audience in this grand co-creation. Each story we rewrite adds to the collective tapestry, creating a reality far richer and more expansive than we could ever imagine alone.

How will you rewrite yours?

Love,