The “spiritual community” is becoming an increasingly closed system. Facts spiral into conspiracy. Arguments are made with the inability to hold multiple possibilities and frameworks at once. Compassion and love is at the core, no doubt, but with a cost: the rejection of reality. The lack of responsibility and accountability. The degradation of moral agency.

A framework of ego transcendence, non-judgement, radical acceptance, non-duality can foster a belief system that no one is responsible for anything. Which is concerning because it creates a worldview that is actually more dehumanizing.

Are people who do bad things, an object acted upon by forces outside of themselves or do they have moral agency and capable of choices?

My point is love isn’t just radical acceptance without radical accountability. Love includes discernment. Compassion includes being responsible for your impact on the world and yourself.

It continues to occur to me that people have a hard time accepting reality. This is why I talk about it so much because it’s a crucial step in being able to hold multiple things at once - which is maturing your relationship to life itself and your capacity to endure it.

People can be intelligent, loving humans and also do very bad things that hurt others. People have to learn to accept this reality and sharpen their discernment skills by also utilizing critical thinking: asking questions, using analysis and inquiry to understand layers of a situation, separate facts and what you want to believe vs. following the hive mind, sinking further into the echo chamber or proving yourself by validating the dogma.

Have you noticed I push back a lot?

I don’t validate hive mind bullshit very often. I see the pattern and immediately wonder what isn’t being seen, what’s being left out, where’s the illusion? Why do people need this to be true? What’s scary here? Because typically in these cases, there’s a reality that doesn’t want to be seen or faced.

And this is found in groups centered around spirituality, religion, politics, pop psychology etc.

You could literally transpose this entire conversation over politics right now and it would look the same.

We can have compassion for our fellow humans and use our discernment for the benefit of our world. We can say “this isn’t okay”. We can hold folks accountable for their poor choices.

Because this is how we create a culture that understands our humanity and respects it. It’s how we learn the truth about acceptance as well.

“ I don’t need reality to be different before I can directly look at it”

- Acceptance

✨❤️✨

Grief

Rage

Instinct

Sexuality

Boundaries

Death

No

We will continue to produce a world that demonizes these aspects of ourselves.

These psychic forces, gain power over us, controlling how we react and how we perceive the world.

Instead of claiming our own sovereign authority, we submit to domination, control, hierarchy, exploitation and obedience.

This is how patriarchy exists and the world suffers under an inverted and “demonic” world.

And so, we can choose to reclaim the dark feminine aspects of the psyche:

Hecate

Persephone

Kali

Lilith

And watch the healthy masculine return.

Order

Discernment

Structure

Protection

Responsibility

When we reclaim these hidden and rejected aspects of ourselves anger becomes protection, grief becomes compassion and instinct becomes discernment.

Integration of the “dark feminine” leads us back to ourselves, offering a more integrated psyche and harmonized world.

✨🖤✨

We often experience Saturn and his influence in our lives as limitations, or restriction, like someone put a ball and chain on our ankle, but the truth is, his lesson is much more profound. Saturn is one of the great teachers of our personal and collective individuation.

Alchemically, Saturn is associated with lead. His invitation is to teach us how to transform that lead into Gold.

Saturn teaches containment, structure, form and through this process asks us to cultivate responsibility, patience, boundaries and integrity. Saturn gives you the structure to build, the power to maintain a routine, and the opportunity for agency.

A river cannot sustain itself or its powerful current without its banks.

Not because there is a limit to our freedom, but because freedom without boundaries can become unchecked, unstable and chaotic. In other words, freedom requires a container in which your power can be applied. Just like in a secure relationship, we need boundaries to feel safe. From this place of trust, our relationships flourish.

What happens when Saturn is operating from shadow? Immaturity. Disrespect of authority. Resentful of accountability. Undermines structure and rejects discipline. Someone who rejects Saturn in themselves may use control, manipulation and intimidation as a tool to maintain freedom for themselves, while oppressing others. This isn’t freedom though. This is actually an immature insecure ego stuck in fear, masquerading as a powerful force.

However, Saturn 🪐 (like all things in life) is paradoxical.

So, if the ego and human nature, seeks to be free, to explore all possibilities, dreams of a life free from blocks or struggle then you have to understand that is actually a fantasy and the old adage is true: the only way out is through.

If you seek freedom, friends: you must understand the nature of Saturn.

Saturn only feels oppressive when we cannot accept we must grow into our own authority. He can feel like a mean old father figure who won’t let us play when we dodge the rules, ignore responsibility and expect everyone else to clean up our mess.

Today, Saturn moves retrograde until December 11, 2026.

This is a time where you will revisit where you dodged Saturn’s lesson. Where are you needing to apply some accountability in your life? Where did you allow disrespect and where do you need to apply some of Saturn’s boundaries in your own life?

This is period of time where we can lean into our own discipleship. Apply discipline and structure to our dreams so they can actualize in our lives.

A lot will come up for review - what’s been playing out for some time may finally meet its reckoning and what needs to change, will get a gentle shove in a transformative direction.

And some people will face the consequences of their choices.

In the end, growth is the name of Saturn’s game and individuation, turning lead into gold is his strategy.

✨🖤✨

Song: “Shake it Out” by Florence and the Machine

The year is 2026. America is now 250 years old.

250 years of promises that have remained undelivered, yet a reckoning has occurred here, all throughout this land.

A domination of all that is not understood, all that is different, not embraced as equal and good.

An invitation for something great, over and over again. Yet what lingers in the remains of empty promises, is a festering, open wound that’s never been allowed the grace to fully heal.

Between each beginning and ending, between each cycle of rebirth, from life to death and back again lies the liminal space of the in-between. A space in which the invitation is to sit with all that has been: the disappointments, the pain, the exhaustion that arose from an unplanned dream, a distraction, a diversion, leading us to the life that is lived, vs. the life that we wanted. This invitation asks you to become the bridge and integrate all that came to be through you, bear witness to it and love what has become all of you through this process, whether it fits the image you had in your mind or not. To become the bridge is to understand we are neither here nor there, we are the space in-between, the past, the present and the incoming future simultaneously. But it is the in-between that people get stuck. Reaching for the past, dreaming a new future or wishing for an entirely new world, that erases the world we currently live within. Constantly reaching, constantly seeking, but it is in the standing still, and being within the liminal space that is required to allow what is emerging the space to be seen.

“In all passages, something is exhausted, something is lost, and irretrievable, and something to replace it is not apparent. In all passages, there is a death of something, naivete, the old road map, a plan, an expectation, a strategy, a story and so on. Sometimes those passages are abrupt and the in-between state is short; sometimes it takes years to play out. There is one clear consistency; however; nature, our nature evolves by way of death. How else can something within us grow and emerge without clearing away the old? And that same nature is always seeking the next stage in service to it’s purposes, though certainly not to our comfort or control.” - James Hollis “Living Between Worlds”

It’s the year 2026. America is 250 years old. In the long and short of things, that’s not a very long passage of time. Some could say it’s quite brief, maybe even infantile. Yet, we like to believe we are so advanced, we’ve come such a long way from our darker past. Even when much of our past is long forgotten or hidden from our knowing, because to fully know how dark our past has been, would be to know how great this land has never been.

Let’s take a trip down memory lane, down the yellow brick road of America. The first stop, a blood stained memory that wiped out the indigenous culture that is the lifeblood of this land before the white man claimed it as his own.

The intentional elimination of Native American peoples was a systematic destruction that meets the United Nations’ definition of genocide and yet it is one of the most overlooked. In California alone during the Gold Rush, approximately 95% of the Native population perished, as settlers were openly encouraged to murder entire villages. Yet our textbooks frame centuries of violence as “westward expansion” or “manifest destiny” rather than what they were: ethnic cleansing and genocide of an established nation.

“Manifest Destiny” has a familiar right to it, doesn’t it? The term has resurfaced in the current rhetoric of the political right. In his inaugural address on January 20th, 2025, Trump said “The United States will once again consider itself a growing nation, one that increases our wealth, carries our flag into new and beautiful horizons. And we will pursue our manifest destiny into the stars.” Perhaps in this speech he was pursuing Mars, but he doesn’t stop there. The pursuit of Greenland is also a manifest destiny source code, being the harbinger of American exceptionalism and the “divine right” to expand to whatever land is deemed worthy of our flag. (Meaning whatever land can make us money). The origin of course lies in the idea that it is “America’s God given right to expand”, dismissing the sovereignty of Mexicans and Indigenous nations in 1845, when this term was originally coined. Manifest Destiny rhetoric also implies explicitly that American soil is the “divine inheritance” of Anglo-Americans, and there’s no seats at the table for anyone else, paving the way for justified forced removal of the indigenous, expanded slavery of African Americans into new territories, war, violence, bloodshed and death in the name of God.

Let’s continue our journey on the road paved in gold, glittering with promises, on our way to meet the Wizard, the Great Oz (the American Dream), but before we get there…let’s continue to explore who built this road in the first place.

Backing up a bit, we need to pay homage to a horrendous crime that spans the entire nation from the western banks to the eastern tip. In 1830, the Indian Removal Act was enacted and the Trail of Tears began 8 years later. An estimated 100,000 Native Americans were forced to leave their homes behind. While it’s not adequately documented, an upwards of 25% of those forced to walk the Trail of Tears died. 1 in 4 never made it. But where were they going? This land was their home and suddenly it was taken from them as if they were strangers and trespassers of the earth itself.

“This we know; the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites one family” - Chief Seattle 1854

“We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children” - Native proverb

“Mitakuye Oyas’in” - Lakota prayer meaning “We are all connected”

Perhaps it here we can see the opposing views, the misalignment, the inversion of internal belief systems. The Indigenous worldview saw themselves as caretakers of the earth, as guests here, where the European colonial view operated in a stark contrast, believing that land is property, it can be owned, bought, sold, stolen and exploited. If we consider the Earth is a version of Mother (Mother Earth), we can see the foundational myth of the exile of the Mother as the backbone of the colonial worldview. Perhaps we are witnessing the origin of the Windigo (otherwise known as Wetiko). This Windigo was thought to be a cannibalistic spirit or being - a creature that consumed human flesh and grew more ravenous as it ate. This entity could possess a person, turning them into something that devoured others for its own satisfaction and survival. I often reference this as the “hungry ghost” - the shadow of consumption, of capitalism. However, there is a greater arc here: where does the yellow brick road lead? The recurrence of a sought after Golden Age, but is it a place we should want to even aspire to journey to?

“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me: I lift my lamp beside the golden door.” - Emma Lazarus - quote on the Statue of Liberty

The illusion of a nurturing mother, stands at the ports of New York City. Welcoming. Beckoning. Devouring. The two faced monster that welcomed immigrants while devouring the indigenous. The Great Mother of this land promised freedom to all, while devouring the labor of the enslaved. She spoke of democracy, while consuming the sovereignty of the Native Nations. A dream was offered, the Great American Dream, rich and full of abundance, but stripped of wholeness. Division ensued, a psychic split, that reformed promises of greatness into classes: the rich and the poor, the white and black, men and women. At the doors of America stands a symbol of the Mother, of what the mother is supposed to mean. But behind closed doors, we find it was a trick, a deception, a lie. And the saddest part of this story is the monster doesn’t know it’s a monster. America believes its consumption creates wealth. It believes through its “freedom” we offer expansion and our “melting pot” of culture breeds care, when the reality is it devours everything and everyone on its land. There’s no true reciprocity or nourishment that feeds the poor, the sick or hungry. The system that is built here will consistently ask for more when there is literally nothing left to give.

The next brick in the road takes us to 1861-1865 when the Civil War unfolded. A war over slavery. A war over plantation owners being angry that the northern states refused to honor the Fugitive Slave Act. It was even said explicitly that slavery was the “cornerstone of the Confederacy” aka owning human beings and using them as work horses, to tend to their farms, stripping them of their humanity, their dignity and their right to exist as free beings on this planet. The war killed roughly 2.5% of the population or 750,000 people. The version that you’re most familiar with however, is the version taught in schools that reframed the war as a noble southern heritage, fought for southern state’s rights, and depicted honorable soldiers. The horrible truth was conveniently stripped from our texts, only for white supremacy to be reconstructed via Jim Crow. In my research it says that Americans have been arguing for 160 years about the Civil War, slavery, and whether it matters. From where I’m standing, it appears more like the golden road has been built upon the backs of slaves, stained with their blood and while slavery may no longer exist outwardly, the ideology never died, nor has our land healed from the tragedy, nor have the people faced the reality that slavery simply changed its mask. The structure of it is alive and well, through the very systemic thought process that birthed it.

If we chronicle every brick it would look something like this:

1776 - The declaration of all men created equal, written by a man who owned 600 human beings over the course of his lifetime.

1830- The Indian Removal Act. One hundred thousand people forced from their homes. One in four never arrived.

1838- The Trail of Tears. The earth remembers what the textbooks conveniently forgot.

1861- A nation splits open over the right to own human flesh. 750,000 dead. The wound sutured but never healed.

1865- Emancipation. Then almost immediately, Black Codes, sharecropping, the convict leasing system. Slavery in a different coat.

1882- The Chinese Exclusion Act. The melting pot, it turns out, had a lid.

1890- Wounded Knee. Three hundred Lakota men, women and children massacred in the snow. The last major military engagement of the Indian Wars.

1919- The Red Summer. Race massacres in more than two dozen American cities. The newspapers called them riots. They were not riots.

1921- Tulsa. Greenwood District - Black Wall Street, burned to the ground in 18 hours. Bombed from the air. Three hundred dead. Thirty-five square blocks of prosperity, erased.

1942- Executive Order 9066. One hundred twenty thousand Japanese Americans removed from their homes and incarcerated. Two thirds of them were American citizens.

1955- Emmett Till. Fourteen years old. His mother insisted on an open casket. “Let the world see what they did to my boy.”

1968- Martin Luther King Jr., assassinated. Robert F. Kennedy, assassinated. Cities burning. A generation swallowing its grief and the truth hidden again.

1971- The War on Drugs declared. A policy later admitted by Nixon’s own aide to have been designed to criminalize Black people and anti-war protesters. Mass incarceration begins lining the pockets of shareholders.

2001- The towers fall. Grief becomes a blank check for war. Nearly a million dead across Iraq and Afghanistan over the decades that follow. The Forever Wars.

2005- Katrina. The water rose and the government waited. The world watched an American city drown, and we learned who this country was willing to save.

2020- George Floyd. Eight minutes and forty-six seconds. “I can’t breathe.” The whole world erupts, but yet nothing truly changes.

2021- January 6th. Attack on the Capital attempting to stop Congress from certifying the electoral votes of the 2020 election. Instigated and backed by our current sitting President.

2025- Manifest Destiny, spoken aloud again from the steps of the Capitol, by Donald Trump.

2026- ICE Surge in Minneapolis. An attack on immigrants to “clean up criminals” which was nothing more than a hate crime itself. A deflection from the Epstein Files.

2026- War with Iran - in process as we speak. WWIII?!

Now let’s consider Dorothy. How she represents every American, yet to date.

A girl from the middle of America, swept up by forces beyond her control, dropped into a strange yet magical world that promised everything. She followed the yellow brick road. She did what she was told. She believed in the Wizard, the great and powerful presence behind the curtain, the one who would finally make everything ok and take her back home.

And when she arrived, after traveling through the dark forest, the flying monkeys, even befriending some curious folk, who represent parts of ourselves, she is faced with yet another task.

To defeat the Wicked Witch of the West. To me there is so much symbolism here that exists even now as a wild synchronicity.

To defeat the West - as a capitalist society that preys on the vulnerable, divides and conquers, seeking only to consume, devour and destroy. To defeat the world wide web? In our modern age, this also could be true. But truly, she is facing the evils of the world.

But when Dorothy defeats the witch, with WATER, a symbol of the FEMININE, mind you, she learns the truth. Behind the curtain was not a Wizard. No magic. No wishes granted. Instead, behind the curtain stood a frightened man with a machine. A projection. A performance. Clever trickery. He was just a man from Kansas. The gold wasn’t even an illusion, it was just painted there. The great and powerful Oz was neither great nor powerful. He was just a man, afraid of being seen.

This is the moment America has never been willing to sit with. Instead it consumes us. We become an avoidant nation, grandiose in our beliefs and so narcissistic, we cannot even bear witness to what we’ve become.

We’ve become a nation so programmed to believe that we can be saved by the man behind the curtain, that we rehung it, rebuilt the projection and continue to elect new Wizards praying to a God in the sky that this era would be the one where the American dream will finally be delivered.

We are a nation of Dorthory’s that continue to click our red glittery heels, chanting “There’s no place like home.”

But as I’ve laid out here, this fantasy has never existed. It was always the projection of a dream built on land that was stolen, roads that were laid by hands in chains, a golden door that opened for some and devoured others whole. To continue to long for a dream that is nothing more than a facade, begins to reveal that it’s not a dream at all, but rather a haunting.

And yet. Dorothy learned something from Glinda the Good Witch, didn’t she? She learned the power she needed to return home was never in Oz. It was never about the Wizard, or the Emerald City.

The power lied within herself. And…she couldn’t have learned that without walking the road, entering the forest, or revealing the truth behind the curtain.

America is young. We are infantile and barely a breath when it comes to the life of a civilization. So where are we on the yellow brick road? Or have we gone through the dark forest? Can we find the courage, the strength, the brain power and the will, to pull down the curtain?

The invitation, on America’s 250th birthday, is not to return to a golden age that never existed in the first place. The invitation is to sit with the grief of what we are and always have been. It’s to sit with the truth that there is no Wizard, no magical savior who will change the fate of this country.

Only we have the power to do that. But first, we must bear witness to all of it. The violence, the broken promises, the festering wound and try to love our nation toward something worthy of itself.

Lastly, Dorothy’s ruby slippers were red. The color of blood. Representing the blood that was spilled to build this road, to build this “great nation”. And yet, another invitation still. It can be the blood of our lifeforce, our capacity to re-build a nation that honors its neighbors, sees no division, and supports each person on this land equally.

“Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.”

James Baldwin, New York Times, 1962

“If you stick a knife nine inches into my back and pull it out three inches, that is not progress. Even if you pull it all the way out, that is not progress. Progress is healing the wound, and America hasn’t even begun to pull out the knife.”

Malcolm X

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”

Rumi

Art by Rick Melton “Wizard of Oz” Classic Horror Style

Litha

Midsommar

It’s the longest day of the year, to dance in the light of the Sun, before we begin our descent on the Wheel.

It is a time to honor all that we have created, all that has bloomed in our lives during the first half of the year and a time to plant seeds for what we want to grow in the next half.

A time to honor fairies, the elementals, the earth and her bounty.

A time to honor a transition of Chiron back into Taurus ♉️ for the first time since Chiron was discovered in 1977.

(Because this is significant and a powerful ally in our healing ❤️‍🩹 as planet when it comes to returning to the earth and her wisdom - realizing we do not have to live in man made scarcity) Today we return home (to the sign Cancer)

It’s a time to honor your Inner Sun, ☀️ your power center, the solar plexus. Your inner fire 🔥

It’s time to honor Fire herself and her transformational energy, her ability to transform elements themselves.

Summer Solstice marks the place in our annual cycle where feel most ALIVE! Because sunlight grows life, even from darkest, deepest soil. It regenerates cells, builds immunity and detoxes impurities. Sun and light are essential to life itself. ⚡️

On this day, I invite you to try a meditation practice I created, a Solstice Blessing:

Place your hands on your solar plexus. Imagine beautiful gold light streaming down from the Sun - straight down into the top of your head (crown chakra) down your spine, moving clockwise into your solar plexus wheel and allow it’s abundance of solar light to flow here. Allow your mind to fill with all that you are grateful for that’s come to life during this first half of the year.

See the images. Feel your heart expand with the fullness of this energetic harvest YOU CREATED in your life. Notice your feelings moving through your body and now see the gold solar light expanding out clockwise into every cell.

See yourself now as a radiating ☀️, your radiant golden light shimmering for all, bringing life to everything you touch, gaze upon or think of.

Blessings radiate from you now.

Now think of what you want to continue to grow during the second half of this year. What are you still building? What are you co-creating? What is the fall harvest going to bring? Envision it now. Shower the vision with your Golden Sun energy. Sink into trust, knowing deep in your heart - a loving intelligence is witnessing you. Working with you and through you to bring into this world, what stirs your heart. All is possible when you believe in your power, your inner ☀️

Today of all days, may know you without a doubt - the gift of life that you are to this planet and to everyone you know or will encounter on your journey. Today we honor coming home to yourself and embracing your inner fire, the inner sun that radiates out for all to enjoy and receive.

Blessed Be.

✨☀️✨

Song 🎶 to integrate: “Follow the Sun” by Xavier Rudd https://youtu.be/0E1bNmyPWww?is=zn24Xz1ZL_bH3xvl

How I take up space.

How I move

The way my words play off a page.

I want someone who lusts to KNOW my inner world, not just the wetness between my thighs.

Attraction, romance, affections…all have their rightful place,

but show me a man who finds joy in DISCOVERING what lights up my heart! What inspires awe and delicious wonder

Show me a man who wishes nothing more than to lay these sweet moments tenderly at my feet.

I want a lover who sees my body as the ALTAR, the vessel, the temple in which we will worship.

Let me be your church

Show me reverence, for I am sacred.

I want someone who looks at me as if I’m an endless chapter in her favorite novel, excited to turn the page, to find out what happens next.

I want someone who isn’t chasing validation

or attention or a feeling,

but rather craves to UNDERSTAND

this woman before them.

I want to be known.

Not for how I look, or how I make you feel when my eyes gaze into yours,

or when my touch sends chills down your body.

I want to be seen

for the parts of me

that stay quietly hidden

until I reveal them,

slowly with every inquiry,

with every “show me who you are”

and in return

I’ll graciously

give you my heart.

What’s interesting is it’s yet another “this not that” scenario. Another pendulum swing from an “all in” solution and instead another refusal to be with the totality of oneself.

When the reality is, this is a both/and conversation.

If your nervous system is in a state of survival, is activated due to perceived threat, then the body arrived at this state due to external factors. 💯

Is breathwork or meditation going to help regulate your nervous system? Maybe.

Regulation tools are a nuanced conversation because everyone responds differently in my opinion. For example, I am not a WIM Hoff breath work fan. Hyperventilating gives me horrible anxiety and makes my nervous system go deeper into the trenches, not the opposite. But for others, it’s a game changer.

Grounding, finding my feet, connecting to the earth, sauna, humming or singing, mindful somatic movement, creative practices like writing, meditation like Yoga Nidra and energy work all help me downshift an activated nervous system.

But that’s me and my body.

So already we can see operating from a linear mind about non linear subjects is unhelpful because it doesn’t calculate the options that exist outside of your field of reference.

In this case, people want to disregard nervous system regulation as a bypass tool vs. a healing one. Citing that nervous system regulation bypasses the how and why we are needing to regulate in the first place.

There’s some truth in that if a person is reaching for the tool and not seeking to understand why they need it. However, the other part of this conversation is often, we need to come back to the body to find the why. We need to sink down into the root or remove the veil to find the reason we needed to protect ourselves in the first place, and even then, we find the root when we are truly ready to see.

Being accountable to oneself is being willing to look deeper. Being responsible for yourself is taking the actions necessary to continue to hold oneself through the process, however messy it may be.

But my point here honestly is the simple truth healing is not linear. It’s spiral. It’s subjective to the person and what is needed in the moment. Healing is also on its own timeline often because our unconscious and the divine wisdom within us, often knows better than we do, what we need and when.

Perhaps a little trust could go a long way in allowing ourselves the grace to move along our path?

In this trust we can allow life to unfold with less shame than we began with and we can hold all our parts tenderly with loving care. 🥰

Veils lift when we are ready to see.

Experiences shift when we open the door to something new or allow grace in.

Bodies heal when we create the conditions to allow it and witness ourselves in the process of what unfolds.

Force, control, misaligned actions and blindly following often leads us down someone else’s path, rarely our own.

So the invitation as always is to remember who YOU are. What does grounding feel like in your body and how do you arrive there?

What does your body need to feel safe and at ease?

How can you create these conditions for yourself and are you willing to look more deeply with loving awareness at why or how you arrived here?

Answers lie in the questions and the space we allow for them to arise.

✨❤️✨

Art: Alex Grey

A hint of lavender and crisp bergamot rise up from the steam and enchant my senses awake.

The grey always makes me a bit melancholy, leaves my body feeling a bit cold

Even when it’s a MN spring and actually perfect outside. A balmy 64 degrees.

I grab my long yellow sweater and snuggle into it, a subconscious reach for sunshine I suppose.

But today, I lean into the melancholy, lean into the grey, embrace the day as it is.

Because underneath the feelings, lies an invitation for depth and a hand reaching out to take mine and say “let yourself be cozy”

And if there’s anything your girl knows well, it’s cozy.

Slow

Intentional

Entangled with the miraculous ability to daydream

A lover of both worlds, and as Fiona Apple said best, “I don’t go to sleep to dream”.

Maybe it’s the 12th house in me, the Piscean Taurus that entrapts me between worlds

A past life priestess, emerging once again.

Every morning it’s the same.

Unload the dishes, clean the kitchen, create some order in my favorite room of the house.

Some say they’re chores.

To me, it’s become a sort of loving ritual.

Perhaps it’s the pattern of adulting, or maybe it’s the muse of stability.

I learned awhile ago, that clutter creates chaos inside my mind.

A certain recipe for overwhelm.

And this isn’t to say that I don’t let my house or my desk or my life get cluttered at times.

It’s to say that I’ve learned that a sense of order, brings my body peace.

In this peace brings stability and stability feels like safety.

So my morning ritual, is a loving process that says “body you are safe here”.

Another muse, besides creating order, is music.

But music allows me to dream

Get lost in my memories for a bit

Enchant my heart with feeling

Enrapture my mind with the past

And remind myself

My life is pretty amazing.

Ray LaMontagne is a Sunday morning favorite.

Especially when I know I have some grieving to do.

His husky vocals lure me deep into memory.

Intentionally, I allow my heart to feel the weight of past heartbreak as he croons “ My heart is like paper, yours is like a flame”.

So melancholic, but sweet, like every love that touched my heart deeply has been.

As the next song begins, I envision myself at an old bar, listening to a classic jukebox, as the southern blues inspired drawl of Chris Stapleton asks “What are you listening to?” a song that mirrors the exact reminiscing I’m journeying through.

My mind drifts to my first love

The love I didn’t even know had taken my heart until many years later.

“Is it a cover band in some college town bar, where it’s na na na’s and air guitars?”

A smile creeps in as I remember sitting in a college town bar, having too many beers and trying to keep myself steady, while my friend soon to be lover, sang “tied up and twisted, the way I’d like to be, for you, for me, crash into me”

Dave Matthews was his favorite band at the time I think.

My memory is starting to lose the pieces, but while I may have been drunk and thoroughly intoxicated, by a fantasy most girls find themselves entangled in, the best friend, the boy next door, like Winnie and Kevin, somehow it was my life. Literally.

It was then, I knew I was in love.

A love that was dangerous, a little silly and a whole lot stupid

But it was also fun.

That was everything the moment of 20 something stupor and years of ignored longing wanted to be

A memory now that’s fading, but one that I’ll never forget, even if he’s long since forgotten me.

The elegant flow of beautiful piano notes lull me back to my london fog, back to my cozy living room, and back to my writing desk

As I contemplate the words that you’re reading now.

Norah Jones has always been an inspiration, a woman after my own heart.

I only dream of playing the piano so gracefully and perfect as she does.

"My heart is drenched in wine, you'll be on my mind, forever."

A perfect crescendo and ending to this trip inside perfectly glued back together with gold heart.

Maybe someday I’ll finally get back to those piano lessons I ponder.

Maybe someday I’ll finish this book, a laboring of love.

Maybe someday…

But it's actually just today, unfolding a little differently than the last.

What is written here, is yet another invitation.

Through ritual, through song, through memories of the past

I let my heart feel and grieve

Not so that I can feel the loss

But so I can feel the love I’ve shared, love that I’ve freely given

(Even if it was mishandled)

(Even if it was forgotten)

It still exists in MY heart

And all I have to do is remember

That the heavy parts are not about my love not being enough

But rather that the love existed

and that in and of itself, is enough.

So on the days you feel melancholy

When your heart asks you to sit down and embrace the love that was supposedly lost

Remember the love is right where you left it

In your heart

In your memories

Because the love you share

Is the love that you are

And your grief is simply asking you to remember

Nothing is lost

It just changes shape

The muse is always arriving

Creating moments for you to be with

Creating depth for you to experience

Asking your heart to feel with absolute certainty...

The miraculous love that you are

✨❤️✨

The Mother Tree

“The biggest, oldest trees—the mother trees—are the energetic keystones of the forest, the hubs of an underground network of mycorrhizal fungi. Mycorrhizal fungi form symbiotic relationships with tree roots and trade vital nutrients gathered from the soil in exchange for photosynthetic carbon from the trees. These mycorrhizal networks can connect the trees and seedlings together in an extensive subterranean web and serve as pathways for shuttling carbon, nutrients and water through the forest. My research had shown that the mother trees lead the regeneration of the forest by seeding in genes for the next generations, sheltering the tender seedlings, and nurturing the rivers and the salmon. These ancient trees hold in their genes the legacy of climates past—knowledge we need to deal with today’s climate crisis. As they age and decline, the old trees become part of the food web, enabling new generations of seedlings to grow and mature into elder trees themselves. As the young trees mature, they learn, adapt and grow with their evolving circumstances, and pass their wisdom to the next generations, ensuring the forest is enduring, regenerative and resilient.” - Suzanne Simard, author of “Finding the Mother Tree: Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest”

Let’s look to the trees, our wise elders, who sustain life on this planet and how they too mirror the feminine process. A process, I feel humans need to return to consciously. A process of nature, as we are nature ourselves. May we relearn, embrace and embody the wisdom of the trees.

✨ 🌲 ✨

Without accountability- most humans take everything said as an attack of accusation or see things as reason to react vs. see their part in the overarching lesson/theme/dynamic.

Accountability takes responsibility for what is yours to own, even if it’s only a small part in the context of the story, it’s yours to look more deeply at none the less.

People who do this work, become humbled in the face of who they are and why they do the things they do.

To put it simply: Awareness awakens and expands consciousness. The key factor here, is being aware of your emotions and feelings.  In other words, being acutely aware of your body’s responses.

When I look at our society as a whole and the patriarchal system we live within, I do feel this is why men who have not faced themselves often operate from a state of unconsciousness. And why patriarchy targeted them in the first place.

Because without this awareness - they lose sense of their own inner guidance and wisdom (Sophia). They lose connection with their inner feminine.

This disconnection then attacks the feminine in the Other (even if underneath it all there is a longing for and a magnetism towards Her)

This disconnection however, is concerning because of what it creates: a society divided, a society easily manipulated and controlled.

Another key point here is the loss of initiation.  Initiations served a deep purpose in not only the growing development of boys and girls, but also in our evolution as a collective.

In ancient tribal cultures, they knew this (as they were still very connected to The Mother, to Her, to the Earth, in deep reverence of her power and role with the Great Spirit.) They knew every boy and girl needed to face themselves and learn accountability.

This loss of the initiation, has impacted our ability to do the inner work - to individuate and “grow up” as the wise man (wizard) and wise woman (witch). Magic is not just a fantasy in children’s movies, it is very real in the sense of inner alchemy.  Magic served a purpose in relationship to our soul.

To turn lead (unconsciousness + Saturn) into gold (awakened solar consciousness + Sun).

This is why we say the God’s live within us, but only when we awaken them from their slumber. Otherwise, they will rule our lives as fate.

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate."- Carl Jung

Do the work.

Be the disciple.

Freedom awaits in your awareness.

“He who looks outside, dreams; he who looks inside, awakes." - Carl Jung

✨❤️✨

Note for new readers: This reflection is written through an archetypal/Jungian lens exploring consciousness, initiation, patriarchy, and the inner feminine/masculine as psycho-spiritual dynamics, not as blanket statements about all men or women. My writing tends to explore the human experience from this perspective, and to be taken as literal statements would miss the deeper spiritual point.

I also would wager, most people don’t realize that’s what this phrase implies. Or with the hermetic phrase, “as above, so below” we see a similar invitation.

Yet, we go on and on about how we’re Gods, how we’re made in the likeness of them. Yet, it goes both ways. The God’s are only as powerful as we are.

If we continue to bypass the very necessary part of the process: integration, then nothing anchors, nothing becomes real, rooted in the flesh and thus, the cycle of fate/karma continues.

The yellowing (the 3rd step in the alchemical process of the Philosopher’s Stone) occurs when a concept becomes embodied. When a new pattern is automatic. When transformation is moving towards completion, the reddening: individuation.

But this crucial step, so many choose to ignore, sidestep or push aside. In doing so, we ignore the laws of alchemy and the process altogether, leaving disembodied and fragmented individuals praying for heaven to return, inside a hell they refuse to leave.

Bypassing, staying where it feels comfortable, spiraling in cycles of righteousness, does not lead to a humbled self who has merged the divine within an imperfect human.

Union occurs when mind becomes one with body. When soul merges with spirit. "One becomes two, two becomes three, and out of the third comes the one as the fourth."

We bring heaven to earth, when we accept our humanness, our imperfections and strive not to become a God, or to be accepted by them, but to understand we mirror them and them us, for we are One, not separate, we are whole, not divided.

How do we come to this knowing? By letting our knees hit the ground in devotion to what we don’t yet understand and taking what we think we know, deep into our hearts. By walking the broken path, by trusting the darkness when it befalls us, by believing in ourselves when no one else does, and accepting there is a divine order in chaos, we will arrive. We will return to our humble beginnings, to the womb and if we’re lucky, we’ll know thyself in ways only integration and embodiment teaches us.

I’d like to pass on the reminder that our western capitalist society has ingrained a way of thinking about these things that are rooted in survival and scarcity not abundance.

And Taurus is ruled by Venus, who at her core is about wealth aka abundance.

What does wealth really mean though?

This is where it gets personal. Wealth is subjective because it’s SO MUCH MORE than just money.

Money is a symbol - a value system created by capitalism. Which means it’s actually not the core of wealth.

So this new moon, I invite you to sit with what does WEALTH mean to YOU?

What makes you feel like the most fabulous version of yourself? What brings you a feeling of awe, joy and fulfillment?

Because these feelings and experiences are the root of what inspires actions towards what brings true safety, security and long term prosperity.

(Maybe read that twice.)

For me, wealth is the feeling of peace in my body. Seeing my kids laughing and happy. Watching the bunnies play in my back yard. Writing. Contemplating the mystery of life. Walks in nature and just taking it all in. Spontaneous road trips. Traveling. New experiences. Trying out new creative ideas (and discovering more things about myself)

Wealth is personal. It creates sustenance for me to go out into the world and do the things necessary to “survive” in this backwards world.

But without my baseline, my roadmap back to my internal current of wealth, I wouldn’t be able to handle what life dishes out on its own terms without utterly collapsing.

This moon is asking for you to tune into that internal current. To truly know thyself. Because if you’re wishing for basic bitch shit, like more money, a new job, a new house, a great boyfriend….then you haven’t tuned into the current. You’re not in the depths of who you really are.

True manifestation comes from YOU, your energetic signature, not what the world deems worthy of you.

This is how we’re all unique and where blanket statements around universal law is useless.

So on this Taurus New Moon, ask yourself - from your own unique energetic current: what really matters to me? What do I need to align with peace and harmony in my life? What am I here to create and give to the world that feels fulfilling to me on every level?

#doyouaccepttheinvitation #wealth #taurusnewmoon

Just like in the 90’s, where an eating disorder was as common as flannel and wide leg jeans, depression along with an alarming rate of suicidal ideation is becoming a cultural norm within the halls of every middle school and high school in town these days.

Is it as simple as our world is a dumpster fire and it’s increasingly difficult to assimilate to the suffering we witness/experience on a daily basis? Sure. That’s a fair assessment.

But let’s travel deeper.

As a generation (my generation to be exact - Gen X and Xennials) were coming of age in a Boomer created world, they were starving themselves, purging any sustenance, and refusing to digest the emotional weight on their shoulders.

Many were latch key kids, living on their own terms, playing outside with friends, going to record stores and coffee shops, beginning to experience the rise of technology in its infancy. This truly was the end of one world and the beginning of another. But - what happens when it’s not properly digested?

Now we see a world that is being consumed by technology. Consumed by cognitive dissonance and children who are growing up in a world disconnected from a place we once knew as our own. Nature. Community. Places to land in real time with real people who are grounded to this earth.

But our kids experienced a transition out of school during COVID, a world on “lockdown”, they’re experiencing school shooting drills and ICE raids. They’re watching a rise of erasure of identity - a demand for conformity and in this, a greater divide is growing - from a total lack of imagination in the collective. Racism, sexism, all the schisms, the pathology is an overbearing collective shadow, and lack of imagination.

And so the children are experiencing simultaneously a collapse of society, a collective shadow overload and a need for a return.

A return to the Mother.

And let’s not get this twisted. I don’t just mean the nurturing arms of the Mother, I mean a return to the goddess who lives underground.

A return to the soil. To the land. To the earth.

And not by death of our human body or our lives, but of an overbearing burden of lifeless material that is no longer necessary to carry.

There is a death occurring here.

A death that is asking to be seen, held, witness and noticed.

“Don’t you see me” “Don’t you care”? - they ask.

“Don’t you see I’m dying here right in front of you?”

“Don’t you see there’s nothing left for me here?”

“What’s the point of all this? If I don’t even matter?”

This is the voice of the unnamed and the psyche who has gone abandoned in a world who orphans children, and adults alike.

The return is honestly a call - a yearning for - a return to each other.

As community. As unified source.

The kids are reflecting what the greater collective consciousness is up to, so are we paying attention?

Are we going to show up for them and in turn digest what we couldn’t - and mourn the world we lost, so that we can turn to our kids, hold their hand and promise we’ll build a new together?

Because if not us, then who? And if not now, when?

There is a spiritual death occurring and both Eros and psyche are here asking us to bear witness - while we tend to the soil of this earth and the soul of our children.

The return is a choice we choose to make. And the clock is ticking…

Ticking

Ticking

It is the young ones who always show us the way. Are we going to accept the invitation that is being asked of us?

✨❤️‍🔥✨

Song recommendation: “Who Will Save Your Soul” - Jewel

Someone I love is suffering and so I’ve been ruminating through my old poetry lately. Finding the thread between the vulnerable human condition and the spark of the divine. The weaving of the two halves, merging in the heart. ♾️ The human elemental self and the multi dimensional divine self. The body, the mind and the soul.

I think “my God, he’s got my condition inside him.” The ability to feel too much in a world that’s comfortably numb. The ability to see too much in a world that’s long been blind.

Hopefully soon, he’ll see the incredible gift he’s been given, even when the cost sometimes feels like a curse. While the intertwining of our humanity and spirit may feel bleak at times, it’s not ever a curse to be a bridge between worlds and to know the depths with such an intimacy that most will never understand. It’s a gift, a love story from the moment your soul landed in your body, till the moment you leave this earth.

It’s all love, always all love. ❤️

Often times it arrives quietly

When the “no” rises in your body.

When the rescuer has grown tired

Of the cycle that shows no signs of movement

While we all move through grief

Through seasons of rupture

Through hurt that slowly unravels us

It’s part of being human

We suffer pain, loss, tradegy even.

We witness so much around us

Only to come home to our own grief.

It’s a lot to carry.

And the thing that goes left unsaid is we’re all carrying something.

Heavy and unspoken.

We all carry the memories of the past

And hopes for the future.

And in the moment we all grieve.

Showing up for others is a joy sometimes

For the rescuer it’s life giving.

Until it’s not.

Until it’s expected.

Because there’s a difference between holding space and care

For what we’re moving through

Rather than living inside it.

Our stories soften in time

And some stories stay the same

Because we’re not ready to let go

To the care we receive by being the victim

To the story

Rather than the survivor of it

We long for the care

The nurturing

The arms of the Mother

Yet we seek it through everyone else

The same ache

The same underlying need

The same reaching

For someone else to make it feel different

Healing may not be linear

But the path to integration

Doesn’t wind endlessly

There is a threshold

Where healing asks more of us

Not just to be seen by others

But to see ourselves

Not just to be held by others

But to learn to hold ourselves

Through traditional Chinese Medicine

We learn that YIN is the unseen substance of life

It is blood

It is body

Its is the deep well that sustains us.

It is capacity.

Women by nature are cyclical beings

There is an intelligence to this wisdom

Releasing, Rebuilding, Renewing.

There is a quiet knowing that understands how to begin again.

So when capacity is absent.

When the suffering of life has you constantly reaching outward

For validation

For containment

For someone else to shift how you feel inside

This is a sign of depletion.

A lack of capacity

That is asking for you to lean inwards

To understand your patterns

Of reaching outwards

Rather than walking across the threshold

And allowing renewal to begin.

Because when the role is applied to others

The triangle continues to move

Until the depletion is felt

By those around you

And the care stops

Not out of cruelty

But because the role was never meant to be sustainable.

The energy needs to flow

Move freely

Because care without reciprocity

Becomes exhaustion

And eventually even the most open heart

Closes out of self preservation

There is nothing wrong

With stepping back from

A cycle that refuses to move

Healing asks for many things from us

But at it’s core it will ask for your participation

A willingness

An accountability

To build capacity

From within.

To take responsibility for what is yours to carry.

Because eventually the question is not “who will hold me”?

But “can I learn to hold myself”?

Because if people start noticing the pattern

And you are unable to look

It’s not that you simply lack capacity

It’s that you are benefiting from others offering you theirs.

Compassion fatigue is real.

We’re all grieving

We’re all carrying something.

This is why learning to sustain yourself

And showing up in equal reciprocity

Is the lifeblood to sustain our connections.

It’s more than fanatical politics or the constant stream of horrors displayed on our tiny screens.

It’s so much deeper than that.

Some say it’s the apocalypse. Some say it’s “end times”.  I say it’s an  “unveiling”. (Not so ironically, that is what apocalypse actually means in Greek.)

And deeper still, it’s an unmasking of the Demiurge.

Behind the illusion of this traumatized world is a foundational myth that says:

The Great Mother is chaos. She’s dangerous, a Monster.

To regain Order, Domination of the Mother is required.

Reject her role, kill her off, build a new world as if she never existed.

This material world then rewards upward movement. Good = transcendent and enlightened. Powerful = Dominant and in control.

Everything not this, is considered “beneath”. Hierarchy is formed.

In this world, the body is critiqued and objectified. The Earth fracked, siphoned, extracted from.

Feelings = Bad.

A civilization that runs on this operating system, this foundational myth, inherits a split in the psyche. A split in consciousness.

Body and Mind

Spirit and Matter

Feminine and Masculine

The split in consciousness is the primary template of Supremacy consciousness.  And what does Supremacy do? Dominate. And why? Because Supremacy’s greatest fear is dependency.

Do you see the cycle here? Do you see why the Mother must be rejected?

To be birthed from a womb, as an infant who is utterly dependent on the Mother, into a consciousness that is organized around dominance, this would be excruciatingly intolerable.

(Especially to an uninitiated ego consciousness.)

Because of this, the Mother must be diminished, controlled, oppressed, rejected and destroyed symbolically.

In doing so, the Return is also destroyed symbolically. Death is feared and immortality is embraced.

All because the Mother cannot exist here. Her wisdom cannot be acknowledged or the ego consciousness (the Demiurge) cannot maintain his posture as the One True God that created all life.

And so, the “Motherless revelation” this past week regarding men who drug and rape their wives holds up a mirror as a glaring synchronicity to a world that is indeed Motherless.

Until we allow her Return.

In doing so we allow the Return of Wisdom that exists in the trees, in the wind, in the oceans, in the fire, in the soil of the Earth.

We allow the Return of Soul to the Great Mother, which also means we allow the return of Death.

No more immortality

No more vampirism

No more Illusion of enlightenment or a God in the sky

No more fear of dependency or needing each other

When the uninitiated ego, becomes the initiated ego, one who accepts the invitation to know thyself and integrate all their fragmented parts…

We Return to the womb, to the hands and the heart of the Mother.

And in this Return we are whole, in her fullness, death, life, soul, mind, body, spirit.

All becomes One and One becomes All.

✨❤️‍🔥✨

I made a video. From the driver’s seat of my car.

Yes, in the Tik Tok, IG, live stream world of our dopamine driven world, taking a video is the norm.

But for a writer?

It’s not my genius or my comfort zone.

So in the heat of my fierce love for the innocence that lives in the heart of all of us, I let my rage propel me out of my comfort zone and face to face with a view finder.

For all my Substack readers, I’m going to channel the message and the processing of the experience into one distilled and potent essay.

Because this medicine is needed. It’s necessary and I will not be quiet. Not now. Not ever.

………………………………..

What happens when you’re angry?

The emotional charge of the anger sets your body on fire, right? The old term “your blood boils” tends to set the scene nicely. What’s actually happening is your nervous system is activated and you are ready to FIGHT. For your right…to stay alive.

Typically, anger is thought of as a “cover up” emotion for deeper wounds like hurt, grief or pain. But, I feel anger is a part of a bigger process that helps inform your body how to utilize the energy that is being created from a sense of trespassing and danger.

We often see anger arise when a boundary has been crossed. Anger tends to rage when the love that you hold for someone, something dear to you, or your own automony is being pushed or squashed causing us to rise up and fight for justice in that heated moment.

To me, this anger or rage is an example of fierce love moved to action for the innocence that is being or has been exploited in some way. A line has been crossed in the sands of what is allowed for that person.

I think of the “Momma Bear” phrase that gets thrown out when a mother becomes protective of her young. When she faces the threat head on in the name of her sweet babies.

It’s the same concept, but it can be sparked from the depths of all human beings when we allow ourselves to feel our anger, our rage and our FIRE that moves through the body in protection of what we love and hold dear.

If we look at this energetically, anger and rage is the energy of movement. When we get angry it’s very difficult to stay still, to not feel the intensity of your heart beat, to ignore the sensation of wanting to MOVE your body. And this is natural. Yes, on one hand it can be for pure survival. But channeled anger can move mountains. It can clean an entire house in under an hour. (Anyone else a rage cleaner here?? raises hand) Most importantly, channeled anger can create CHANGE. Anger = Fire. Fire = Transformation.

Now reflect back on childhood. How was anger viewed by your parents? Reflect on your religion or your spiritual practice. Reflect on the recent uprising of “positive psychology”. How is anger viewed and framed? It’s viewed as something “bad” right? Something to stuff deep down inside. Anger was told to be quiet, to smile or else. Anger was told to quietly not exist, because anger makes other people uncomfortable for the same reason you were told not to express it. Because of the intensity of the energy and because the system we live within was designed to shame us out of our right to feel angry, to feel enraged, to feel violated and upset by what wasn’t ok.

We all grew up in a culture that wants us docile. It’s by design.

Those who are exploited the most are often the ones who are shamed with equal measure. Yes, I’m talking about women. Women are told to smile anytime our face is neutral or otherwise. Men are told to “be a man”, but don’t be like Hulk. Women are supposed to be soft and gentle, happy and submissive. Men are supposed to be strong, dominate, a working man, a protector. But no one is allowed to have big feelings without some pretty strong judgements from societal norms.

When we stuff our anger, when we normalize a learned sense of helplessness and forgive others trespasses that left us angry inside, we become sick. Not only physically sick, but also we become doormats to powerful people within the very system that seeks to exploit us.

If our nervous system is bogged down with an over abundance of unfelt feelings, or cannot respond accurately because it’s always in fight or flight or frozen, how can we respond appropriately to the state of the world as it’s burning down all around us?

How can we move into action when the system has trained us to be docile or to fear retaliation?

Can you see now, how anger serves a larger purpose than we may realize? Can you see that anger isn’t bad, but rather a useful and meaningful tool of protection?

Righteous rage fights the system of oppression.

I mean, I can think of an iconic band name that exemplifies this very sentence.

“And now you do what they told ya, now you’re under control” - RATM

To fight the system, we have to feel our feelings. We have to reclaim our right to feel our anger and our rage, especially when we are being shown exactly how heinous the world can be when we allow others room to exploit our innocence.

Yes, I’m talking about Epstein.

Yes, I’m talking about the newly discovered Rape Academy that is teaching men all over the globe (but mostly American men) how to drug, rape (and hopefully not kill, but oops if it does) their wives, partners and whomever else while exploiting them on the internet for all to see.

Yes, I’m talking about our normalized rape culture.

Yes, I’m talking about Religions that turn a blind eye to pedophilia and the rape of young children.

Yes, I’m talking about genocidal supremacy.

Yes, I’m talking about governments that are run by pedophiles and haven’t been charged with their crimes of murder, rape and eating children.

Yes, I’m talking about the very real and vile nature of our world, that is slowly being revealed and no one really has the capacity to properly handle the amount of rage we should all being feeling right now.

And yet, I will ask it anyway:

ARE WE MAD ENOUGH YET?

Because if you’re not angry, enraged or at least feeling very sick to your stomach after reading that list, then the system’s intent to pacify your very normal healthy reaction of anger is working. Perhaps you may be numb or disassociating, either way, we need to be able to reclaim our anger, to channel this FIRE into the righteous action needed to protect the sacred of this planet, to protect the innocence in all of us, especially our children.

We need our anger to inspire the greatest change that this planet has ever seen and I believe it’s possible when we stop shaming our feelings, our rage, our hurt and our big feelings. I think when we allow ourselves the space to feel and channel the intensity of this fire, we will transform this planet entirely.

At least that is my hope for us all.

Freedom to feel.

Freedom to heal.

Freedom to say No.

Freedom in every sense of the word because we are sovereign beings and sovereign means authority over oneself.

To thineself be true.

May we all remember our power found in the fire of our bellies and the fierce love that moves into action to protect those that we love, especially the innocent.

I miss fireflies

And warm summer nights

The moment when dusk settles in

And the trees become giant, looming silhouettes

Against the cascading fire toned hues

sweeping across the sky, as if God was holding the paint brush

In the distance the bonfire crackles

With grey smoke billowing into the air

Smiles dance in-between the fire’s shadows

And laughter echoes, as the adults reminisce over cold beers

And the children play kick the can

Then one by one

Little yellow lights

Flickering through the air

First by the bushes

And floating silently in-between each tree

As if playing hide and seek

And as the pitch of night greets us finally

Their little yellow lights fill the yard

As if mirroring the stars

I miss fireflies

And warm summer nights

When we played amongst the twinkling yellow stars

All one and the same.

The Earth Mother, the Poet, the Painter, the Shapeshifter.

All one and the same.

The one who walks into a room and feels the energy of the space before it has a name

The one who recoils in anxiety from the oppression of performative presence

The one who shrinks away in the face of too little vulnerability and zero embodiment

The one who blossoms in depth, or the moment before nothing but empty canvas becomes blissfully alive, when words begin to form prose.

The mind may try to understand, the why’s, the inner workings of such a mystery

But only the creative spark that flows from the heart begins to understand

Our true capacity, just beyond what is known about ourselves and the world.

Even when our mind longs to escape

Or make sense of every minor detail

Our body speaks softly, sometimes loudly

Informing us of the truth, however much it may be steeped in grief or love or fear.

It is the sensitive one inside us, the creative impulse and the deep inner knowing that whispers through our bones

Our faithful and eternal guide leading us towards what is real

You cannot transcend this part of yourself

Or escape the invitation

Because the spark, the fire, the expression of what is real within you never dies nor does it need to be transcended in the first place.

The invitation will always remain

Waiting patiently for you to accept…

This is why art heals

Why sex heals

Why walking in nature heals

Why the touch of a woman heals

Why the shaman heals

All of these things exist in the tangible

In the flesh

In the bones of each other

In the real time space of now.

✨ 🤍✨

*please consider donating to help me grow and to support my own creative flow. I appreciate you! ❤️

Devotion = reverence for life itself

Devotion focuses Shakti, the creative spark, a desire.

Devotion builds, intensifies and magnifies energy.

Devotion is the bridge…

Between Shiva and Shakti ♾️

From my experience, modern relating short circuits Shakti, the creative feminine womb energy. It does so by way of the illusion of greener grass, more options and the endless dopamine loop.

This leaves people feeling a lack of containment, a lack of intention, and a lack of what is sacred, all because people choose distraction or the supremacy of “more” over devotion to One.

The constant moving on, seeking different, better, and more…never allows desire to deepen.

The depths are never reached because people bring half their attention, expecting full connection, only to be repeatedly disappointed.

To me, this isn’t so shocking because what we’re seeking underneath it all, is consistency being avoided by a temptation that only leads us further away from the original desire.

So, when you hear someone say “I need consistency, presence, attunement…” what they’re really asking for is devotion.

Devotion sparks a sacred kind of love. Something the fragmented world can’t touch.

And if it is you that longs for this, it is the devotee in you asking for a conscious, sustained choosing of what is alive and true in your own beautiful heart.

Perhaps you are the bridge too, back to a devotional world.

✨❤️✨