Here’s your info to join this evening:

https://us06web.zoom.us/j/83413180100?pwd=pvZ6axwzevdc3soT8z6rcFBs86w2Lg.1

Meeting ID: 834 1318 0100

Passcode: 755185

As always, bring along whatever you …

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While the glorious sunshine has been a balm for my soul this Summer, I’m ready for the changing season. The Earth is scorched from the heat and I can’t help but feel like we are all feeling that mirrored within ourselves on some level, too. The fire energy of this year has been mammoth and is burning so much away. Literally and metaphorically. The shift into Autumn always fills my heart, but this year it’s more than that. It’s desperately needed. There’s a really gentle excitement for the shorter days, for the pulling inward and the return of a warming vegetable soup. I’m ready for the gentle descent back into the void where the outer world provides the cocoon for me to sit in the space of no thing. Beneath that excitement, a nervous anticipation for what might meet me there this year, after the gut wrenching, heart breaking past year of swimming with the Dark Goddess. All the while knowing that now, I am supported more than ever.

As I’ve come to the end of my year long journey through Bite the Apple, the integration and processing of the whole experience has been and continues to feel mammoth and at times is overwhelming. My need for quiet, for presence, for space, for slowness has been great. Throw in Eclipse season and this shift in seasons and it really feels like we’re walking between two worlds right now. Liminal spaces within liminal spaces. The veil feeling thin, the seen and the unseen almost merging. A restructuring occurring.

And yet we still have to show up to the very real physical lives that we find ourselves in. We still have to find ways of putting food on the table, keeping on top of the washing pile and making sure that our children aren’t spending every hour in front of a screen - no judgement if yours are btw, mine has spent more time than I’m comfortable with on a screen over the last few weeks, but sometimes it’s a case of needs must. I know it won’t just be me who’s finding the juggle near to impossible right now. The thing is, with this changing of season, we don’t suddenly receive an upshift in practical support to enable us to gently pull back from our roles and responsibilities. So the need for greater balance becomes a tightrope we have to walk. As we approach our first September as a home ed family, that relief that would usually land at the prospect of a little more time to myself has been replaced with an extra thing to juggle. Wondering how we bring this balance into our expectations around what that will look like for all of us throughout the darker months, too.

Having ignored this inward pull for so many years in the past, I know the cost of not beginning to move with this seasonal shift now. I know that if I keep trying to show up as if I have full capacity for output, my body will pay. And it’s not a price I’m willing to pay anymore. With that ownership and taking responsibility for myself, comes the real work of being vulnerable and asking for what I need, changing plans if I need to and listening to my body’s no. None of those things come easy to me or without a cost of their own, but I’m getting better with navigating that, having had no choice over the last year. If I don’t make that commitment to myself, nobody else can make that happen for me.

This is exactly why The Hollow exists.

It’s not a place to receive a ‘spiritual experience’, although you are very likely to, this is not a performative and pretty space. It’s a place where we can gather whether we’re in the thick of a very ordinary mundane week or while navigating the extraordinary moments like this past week or so, with the awareness of the moving threads and shifting foundations that are always asking us to find our centre. A place where we may find ourselves walking between worlds while also holding the mental load of what needs sorting ahead of tomorrow. It’s the place where we make the space to listen to our own whispers in the thick of it all, whatever that looks like.

The Hollow is the space we make to go into the void and be with what’s present.

Twice a month we gather, on the first and third Tuesday evening of every month, shoulder to shoulder, each within our own spaces, rooted in our own lives, carrying our own very real experiences of life. We co-create the space to be and flow with our own inner seasons, the natural seasons and the seasons of our own lives. We drop our anchors, we go inward and we listen to what we need. As our group is small enough at present, we take a minute to express those needs and then we let ourselves be moved by that insight so that we can all receive what we need most in the moment. It will come as no surprise that each time we meet, the needs of each woman mirrors each other’s beautifully.

Your body already knows what it needs. The Hollow is the space where you have the space to hear it and go someway towards meeting those needs in the moment.

If this is calling you, especially as we sit in this turn of the season, before we begin that long descent into Winter, you would be most welcome to join us.

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Having written this a few days ago, as I’ve come back to close off and click send, I’ve been moving with a days long migraine that has brought me to an abrupt stop. Pulling me further in to this liminal space. Some pretty wild but insightful dreams, visions and insights. Feeling everything so intensely in my body. Energy pulled inward. Plans with friends cancelled. Asking for help where it’s needed. No choice but to walk my talk. Knowing that on some level I have needed this. My body leading the way, always.

Thankfully today, the intensity has lifted, the heavy rain of this morning helping to wash what no longer serves away.

Listening all the same, knowing that this is where my inward retreat and journey back into the depths of Winter begins. The gnarly finger of the Dark Goddess beckoning me forth once more.

I hope that you are moving well with whatever you’re navigating in this time of heightened sensitivity and that you’re able to give yourself what you need.

Lots of love

Christina x

PS - If you’d like to dip into this work, but would rather do so in a one to one space, I will have space for two more one to one clients from the second week of September. These can be taken online via Zoom or at Canaston Bridge Wellbeing Centre near Narberth. No block booking required. Be in touch if you’d like to chat about what this might look like or to book yourself in.

Your invitation for this week is to find something that allows your creative flame to burn and to give it an outlet.

With all of the intensity of energy we’re experiencing at the moment, we…

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Just a quick reminder that we gather this evening at 8pm. I’ll pop the zoom details below for ease.

https://us06web.zoom.us/j/82648012431?pwd=9VbEWJK2SUoJKKbqzxbEVjTsPYgYHQ.1

Meeting ID: 826 …

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Connecting with the land, as if the la…

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As you probably already know, we’re approaching the peak of the Lion’s Gate portal tomorrow and have been moving through this growing energy all week. There is an awful lot of noise out there in the world around this astrological event every year, but even more so this year. The noise is full of information which tells you how you should be experiencing it, how you should be moving with it, with an undertone of fear associated if you don’t grab it by the horns and utilise the energy while it’s here.

But I’m coming with an entirely different perspective. For many years, before I even knew that Lion’s Gate was a thing, I would have the wildest spiritual experiences that were either preceded by or followed up with really intense physical experiences in my body. That has looked like intense purging, extreme fatigue where I couldn’t even lift my head off the pillow, sore throats and loss of voice, and even huge prolonged bleeds.

This year is no different, as I feel the clearing underway in my throat. Throughout this week I’ve felt my body clearing, moving, re-rooting. I couldn’t tell you exactly what’s moving, but I can feel the energy shifting so intensely. I’ve found myself creeping into bed for a nap here and there and having a daytime doze on the lawn with the dog. We don’t need to be able to logically understand and explain things for them to be real and true. As I’m learning, the most true and real experiences are meant to be felt and it’s in that feeling that the potency sits, not in the trying to create a narrative to accompany it.

I haven’t had to ‘do’ anything for this to unfold, my body is responding to these energies in the way that it knows it needs to, just as this energy flowing in knows how it needs to work through me. And it has done every year, for as long as I can track back.

The first time I became aware of Lion’s Gate was in 2018, when I had a really overwhelming visitation around 8pm on the 8th of August and had to call my spiritual teacher for help due to the intensity of it and needing some serious support with grounding and protection, as I felt like I was quite literally leaving the Earth plane. Back then I was so naive to this whole world. It had caught me seriously off guard and until that moment I had never experienced anything quite so otherworldly and had absolutely no idea how to approach it myself. Later, she had explained the energies we were experiencing and everything began to make a little more sense. The days that followed came with extreme purging and the lyrics of the Frankie Goes to Hollywood song rolled around my awareness on repeat for the entire time. ‘Purge the soul, make love your goal.’

And now every year around lion’s gate, that same line drops in and I’m reminded that maybe that’s all we need to do at this time. Be willing to purge, whatever that looks like for us and be open, willing and intentional around weaving more love into our bodies, our awareness and our lives.

Pretty much everyone I’ve spoken to this week has been experiencing a physical rewiring of some sort, experiencing extreme fatigue, our bodies are working hard with this light. And often the displacement that happens is far from comfortable. As the light pours in, there is old energy that it’s clearing which needs to make its way out.

So if you’re feeling overwhelmed by the intensity right now, my biggest piece of advice would be to ground. Get outside. Get your feet on the Earth. Spend time in the waters of the Earth. Be with the elements and let them and the sensation in your body move you in the way you need to be moved. If you’re feeling far from positive and energised and are flapping that you’re missing out on the most potent manifesting portal of the year, know that you’re not doing it wrong by following your body’s lead. I really believe that we all experience a shift of sorts during this time, whether we feel it arriving or not, and you can’t miss the benefits of that if you’re open to receiving it and grounding it in.

For me personally, I’m going to be spending the weekend away for my final weekend of Bite the Apple, the year long journey into reclaiming the sacred feminine. It has been the most liberating and empowering thing that I have ever immersed myself in. The work over this past year, as it’s accompanied me through this year of enormous change, has changed me in ways I could never have imagined. I have the most full and grateful heart. There’s a gentle excitement around what we will move through this weekend, but there is also grief, grief that this is the last time we gather in this capacity. And there’s an irritation that I have this niggly throat which has the potential to worsen and not allow me to be in the weekend in the way I had envisioned.

And then I return to this felt sense of knowing that this is all part of the process. Huge energy is moving through my throat. Which feels divinely timed as we reach the end, where now the work is mine to take out into the world, to fully embody. As the wonderful Jane has so often reminded me, this is just the beginning. And a huge part of what comes next is to use my voice in ways which feel more true, even when it’s uncomfortable, even when it threatens shaking the foundation around me, even when there’s a possibility that it won’t be well received. Always coming back to that reminder from Frankie Goes to Hollywood…’make love your goal’.

However you find yourself experiencing the next couple of days, make it true to you. And soak it up. Know you can’t get it wrong. Whatever social media might tell you. Rest if you need to rest. Dance if you need to dance. Roar if you need to roar. Let your body lead. That is the most true thing you can do.

As I type that, a butterfly has circled my head a couple of times before landing on the lavender beside me. A beautiful reminder of the necessity to rest in the cocoon of our becoming, of the sticky gunky mushy mess that we have to move through before we can be free of that cocoon, before we can grow our beautiful wings and fly freely, feeding on the nectar of the beauty all around us. I can’t think of a better metaphor for this time that we’re living in right now.

Sending huge love into the world as we navigate these extraordinary times, with the most enormous gratitude for this life.

Christina x

I’m just dropping your call link for this evening. This will be the same link for both of our August calls.

https://us06web.zoom.us/j/82648012431?pwd=9VbEWJK2SUoJKKbqzxbEVjTsP…

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We’ve been taught from the youngest ages that anger and rage is an undesirable emotion to feel or express. We were told off for raising our voice, while the people around us shouted at us more than they spoke to us. We were reprimanded for stamping our feet, by people who slammed doors and used the force of their hand to show us that we’d crossed a line. We were taught it wasn’t safe to have our own rage, for the fear of what it would illicit in others. We were shown that to feel or show our wrath, was to compromise the connection we had in our safest relationships.

So we swallowed it.

Instead of providing it with an outlet, we shrunk it down, we bit our tongue, we made ourselves small.

Each time something stoked that internal fire of rage, the inner flame growing bigger, the pressure needed to shrink it down becoming stronger.

Every once in a while, an eruption of uncontrollable pure wrath, spewing it’s intense heat all around us.

Then, isolation. In the little island that is this body.

There has been an absolutely wild tsunami of rage moving it’s way through my system of late. It’s been showing itself in smaller waves since the beginning of this year, but nothing like the past couple of weeks. And I suspect that I’m not alone in this.

There has been an intense energy of death, stripping away and clearing the ground in the air. It’s everywhere we look. And we know logically that this is always the precursor for what is yet to come. Yet that knowing does not make it any easier to sit with the intensity of the clearing as it moves through the body.

It’s one thing to know in our minds that there are things that we are leaving behind, whether it’s habits, jobs, homes, relationships, whatever it might be. But to know and feel the emotion that is driving that change, rooted in our body, is another thing entirely.

For me, and I think this is true for many of us, the emotion that’s driving that change is rage. Rage that comes from the depths of the body. Rage that brings the most immense heat and fire as it moves up through the spine. Rage that feels like it could cause some real damage if it were to be let loose. Rage that honestly feels like it spans lifetimes and generations of women who stand at my back.

As this has all been moving, I have really been sitting with this old story, older than me, that has sat in my bones, that has come back to life. This story that I am a dangerous woman.

As women, we’ve been taught that to be domesticated and obedient is the ‘right’ way to live. We’ve watched generations of women before us dedicate their lives to the desires and interests of men, running themselves into the ground, parched of their own pleasure and joy. As children, often our needs were sacrificed in pursuit of meeting the men’s needs. Maybe even, like me, you might have grown up in a very toxic masculine world, where women were objectified and talked about as if they merely existed to satisfy the male gaze.

Even as I’m typing this, the discomfort in my womb space is so great. I am stopping a while to move my body, to move this through. I know that this rage is so much bigger than just mine.

As I’ve moved through my own process of healing over the past months and I begin to move out of the descent, I’m feeling my own life force rise again, tapping into that real felt sense of pleasure through my senses as I move through the most simple moments of day to day life. As that life force grows, the rage grows with it.

And I am realising, that perhaps they are one and the same.

What if in moulding ourselves to be obedient and domesticated women, in silencing our desires, in supressing our rage, we have actually been supressing our life force?

What if it is the suppression of our life force that has allowed us to be obedient and domesticated women?

There is a paradox at play within all of this. Women are set up to fail. Let’s sit with this idea that life force and our rage are fuelled by the same energy. Our eros, our life force is constantly being tamed, told to be dampened, our rage is unacceptable, not ‘lady like’. Yet, from the perspective of men (when I speak of men here, I’m talking about this historical toxic masculine culture that we’ve lived through, and I know this doesn’t apply to all men), that eros is welcomed, the flames of that are fanned and enflamed and encouraged as long as it is for their benefit. But if it crosses a line and overpowers that toxic masculine, then she becomes seductive, a whore, a dangerous woman. There is an all too common thread that plays out here, where the dangerous woman then invites what is seemingly justified male violence. She must be stopped. She must be silenced. Excuses are made by women for the behaviour of said men, ‘she asked for it’, ‘it’s the way she dressed’, etc. Is there any wonder that this immense fear of being a ‘dangerous woman’ is so strong? These patriarchal threads run so deep and they must be cleared.

As I feel my own aliveness grow, in a way I’ve never experienced it before, it is not physically possible for me to be tamed anymore. My body will not allow it. The more I listen to my body and hear what it has to share, the more I learn about why my womb was no longer able to physically inhabit my body, while I continued to contain ALLLLL that it was holding. There have been moments over the last few weeks where I’ve found myself caught off guard, where my body has screamed one thing, while my words say another and the wrath that moves up through body is so intense, that I have no choice but to reclaim this wildness, however it may be perceived. I cannot silence her again. I will not.

In truth, it is in how that will be perceived, that the danger sits for me. While I can logically rationalise that and know that how others perceive me is unimportant, from an animal body perspective, to risk the safety of community feels like a threat to life. And if we’re getting really granular here, the way those perspectives will be shaped, are hugely dominated by the patriarchal perspectives and conditioning that runs so deep in the bones of each one of us. So really, it feels like there is no easy way here. But there is only one right way, at least for me. The way that I am perceived, is not and never has been my responsibility, despite what I’ve been taught.

In sitting with and processing all of this, I have been digging into The Flesh and the Fruit by Vanya Leilani. She talks of Eve feasting on the fruit of the tree of knowledge led to her being able to see what the male gods could see, she became too much of a threat to their way, she could see through the veil that they had created, it awoken her own life force and eros. And so as she became a threat, it was decided, that all women would be punished. Vanya discusses throughout the book, how this biblical archetypal story has been taken literally, how Eve and her disobedience has been applied to all women. And how this has led to the patriarchal threads of women needing to be kept in their place, kept small, kept unknowing. At all costs, we must be kept from our own eros and life force. Which is why it feels so fucking liberating with this huge welcoming back and reclaiming of the sacred feminine at this time. Vanya then goes on to discuss how actually, eating the forbidden fruit takes bravery and is an awakening act of sovereignty rather than a shameful sin. Her whole book is a guide to navigating the creative transgression necessary to overcome this. It’s going to be an absolute bible on my bedside table for years to come.

Even though many of us have now moved away from the religious traditions where these stories run rampant, they still echo through the threads that form the world in which we live in in so many ways, they are woven into our fascia. So there is no wonder that we may be sitting with this enormous fear that we may be perceived as, or even literally be, a dangerous woman, in relation to the societal structure we exist within.

Just for a moment, I want you to consider this, if a dangerous woman is a sovereign woman, who knows her mind, who knows her body, who is in touch with her desire and able to seek and experience pure joy and pleasure for and within herself, as well as deep rage and grief, is considered as dangerous? Then yes, I am fucking dangerous. Are you?

The world out there is constantly taking us out of our bodies, dimming our life force, telling us to look outside of ourselves for the answers. Even within spaces that label themselves as empowering and healing. There’s a reason for that. In engaging with that way of living, we are keeping ourselves obedient, we remain compliant and domesticated. We are so much easier to manipulate. Each time that pure rage, wrath and fury makes it’s way up and through, it is so much bigger than just that moment, it is likely a culmination of pent up energy that has been silenced and squashed for generations. If we can find a way to let it literally move us, however uncomfortable it might get, however destructive it might get, the closer we can get to the freedom of living as truly sovereign women. Over the last few days, I have received the message really strongly, that once the wrath has burned through, that fire becomes supportive and is sustenance for our life force.

But first, we must let it do it’s work.

I’d like to invite you to walk with the inquiry around life force and rage, and how they are each fuelled by the same primal energy. Leaning into the idea that when we silence and supress one of those aspects, we’re also silencing the other. Just notice how that lands for you, notice where your inquiry leads you. Maybe even notice where your own internal patriarchal threads are showing up in this, with compassion for yourself in that witnessing which may feel really confronting. If it feels safe for you to do so, I’d love to open up the conversation around this.

We’ll be gathering in The Hollow for our first call of August next Tuesday at 8pm. The purpose of these calls is to anchor us in the here and now while we drop deeper into our own confronting process in the depths of our own void.

If you’d like to jump in, you can upgrade to a paid subscription below.

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It’s hard to believe it’s been a week since we last gathered. I trust that you’re moving well with what’s being stirred up, in your own ways.

This week’s suggested practise is really simp…

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Our second call of The Hollow is tomorrow, Tuesday 21st July at 8pm.

The Zoom link
Join The Hollow here
Meeting ID: 847 5642 4042
Passcode: 642806

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It’s a practise that tested everything I had over the darkest mont…

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Over the last week, I’ve really sat with exactly what it was that felt like it needed to be shared.

And it’s this. Which in some ways, is a continuation of my last musing around my definition of a safe space. and how that’s changed.

A lot of space holders and facilitators of healing work will tell us what they think we need. And at a time where maybe we don’t have the capacity or ability to be able to identify that for ourselves, this serves us. To a point. Until we become so reliant on someone telling us what would be helpful or beneficial, that we lose the ability to be able to identify and ask for those needs to be met ourselves.

Throughout my huge year of change, I was met with and continue to be met with the very opposite of that. What has felt like a very different way of being held, supported and guided through the most difficult time. I felt it from the moment I reached out and voiced that I needed support and that I knew she was the woman to help me.

At the end of October last year, as we gathered in community around Samhain. In the aftermath of the Surrender to the Sweetness retreat that I hosted with Kristy, I pulled my energy right back, and I dropped so deeply into the intensity of my experience. I could feel this knowing that my womb was already dying, it’s life force was already pulling back. And it was breaking my heart. During this gathering, as we took another bite of the apple, I was shown a very specific place, with very specific people, supporting me through a ceremony of some sort (this part was far less specific). This came along with a knowing that I needed to make it happen. I had to ask these women to gather. Asking that I have my needs met in this way, asking these women to take time out of their busy lives, which also required a night away and money to be spent, felt ridiculously elaborate. All of it felt like I was asking for an unreasonable amount. And despite the specificity of where and who was to be there, I had no idea what I actually needed to happen once we were there.

Without overthinking it too much, after our closing of space, I immediately reached out to two of the women who had sat in that space with me and shared what I’d seen. In their own way, they had both received the a very similar invitation, in their own ways. Glastonbury was calling.

If only it was as easy as following that calling and it all panning out beautifully with ease. Another thread that I wanted to talk about which weaves well here is how we’re often inclined and taught to take the path of least resistance. To follow the path of greatest ease. But I don’t believe that to be fully true anymore. If I had allowed that to be the truth that led me, we wouldn’t have ended up landing there at all.

In the days leading up to our trip, there was an immense sense of anticipation for me. I couldn’t quite imagine actually landing, the women being there, choosing to be there, for me. I didn’t know how to articulate what I could feel moving through me, how to articulate what I felt like I needed to happen, because I didn’t know with enough clarity myself. I leant into the comfort that these women would know, they would take the lead. I could hand it over to them.

How fucking wrong I was.

Alongside that anticipation, a forecast threatening heavy snow landed, which we rarely ever get out here in the wilds of West Wales. Knowing that I couldn’t let this chance pass me by, I needed to find a way to make this happen, whatever got thrown in my way. With much to-ing and fro-ing with the women who I was travelling with as we watched the forecast look more and more threatening, we eventually landed on the safest and easiest option. We booked an extra night of accommodation and made our way down before the heaviest of the snow made it’s way in. By this point, we were one woman down due to her own body screaming loudly, asking that she rest up and take care of herself. At this point, the gravity of what I was asking of everyone became louder in my head, who the fuck did I think I was to be asking this anyway?

Waking up on the land that I needed to walk on, more than I knew beforehand, we gently stepped into our day, as if it was any other day. But for me, in my chest and in my womb, there was a knowing that this was not just any day. The not knowing what was going to happen filled me with an anxiety that sought only to detract from the part of me that knew what I needed all along. As we met together, all four of us, one other gorgeous woman knocked sideways by her own life had stepped out. We chatted about what the day might look like, where we needed to go and if anyone had any clarity around what was going to happen. At this point I was willing someone to have a plan figured out so we could just go and do whatever it was I needed. But alas, it was not to be. So we set about spending some time in the Goddess Temple, an entirely new experience for me, and that opened the floodgates for the tears to roll and provided the space for my roots to descend. A little more clarity began to form, at least the very next step became clear.

As we put one foot in front of the other, we chatted and laughed and chatted some more. Again, as if what was coming wasn’t about to unfold. My head then began to throw up so much noise and distraction around the oldest stories that I’d tried to make sense of in relation to the whole experience with the health of my womb. Each time I asked for guidance or insight, I was met with little, if any. Just noise.

As we padded the pavements in the direction of the White Spring, the energy changed entirely. I felt myself drawing my energy back and in. The conversation began to quieten. One of the women encouraged I go fully inward from here on in. Our plan changed course, with a stop off in the Chalice Well. Sat under the wise old Yew beside the reflection pool. I dropped in deeper still.

I remember, so vividly, my friend turning to me and asking if I was disappointed. I don’t really remember what my answer to that question was. But disappointed was not how I was feeling. Frustrated was more true. I wanted to have a tantrum and ask them all to just take over. I wanted someone to create and hold a beautiful space for me to just ease myself into. Having worked so hard to hold myself through everything up to this point, I just wanted to surrender into it all.

I kept receiving this vision of myself, birthing my daughter, floating in and completely held by the water, my Mum just holding my head out of the water enough to allow me to keep breathing safely. That knowing and trust in my body that it knew exactly what it was doing, not once wavering or doubting if I was held or supported. Fully in each present breath, not really having the ability to think any further ahead than this now moment. Fully knowing, it was me who had to move through that hard and physical labour, that nobody could do that for me. So I didn’t once question if I was able or not. I just descended deeply into my body and gave birth to my beautiful girl in the most calm environment.

As another friend came along and knelt at my feet, placed her hands on my knees. I voiced what I could see. I voiced it all. I voiced my frustration at wanting to be held and supported, while also knowing it was me who needed to follow my body’s lead.

And it turns out, that was all that I needed to do, to allow them to take over, to hold the physical material space, so that I could come down and fully in to my body and in to the experience. Empowered to move through it in the way that I needed most, empowered to ask for support in the most specific way, empowered to receive exactly what I needed in that moment. Even if I didn’t fully understand it enough to articulate it. It also paved the way for the fierce but loving direction that led me through what came next.

The floodgates opening, my expression of what was moving in me, eventually made way for the exact thing that I was craving the most. The holding and support. We don’t have to do it all alone, no. But we do have to call upon that part of us that knows to inform the way in which we’re being held, so that it is meeting our very specific needs, when we need it most.

And that my friends, is where my sharing of this profound moment in my journey will stop. The rest feeling too sacred, too personal to really share publicly, at least right now.

What I do want to continue with, is to reflect on exactly how fucking painful it can be to ask to have our needs met. I hope that in my sharing that really reflects how much I struggled to do that, despite years and years of deep work. How much easier it often feels to hand our care over to someone else so that we can rest into something more deeply, distrusting that we can create that for ourselves. How easy it is to think that someone else will know better than we do or more than we do. And of course there are absolutely times, where what we need is a space to fully surrender and be held. But huge threshold moments are not that time or place.

These huge moments where we experience big life change are calling us forward. They are calling us to walk through the flames of discomfort. They are calling for us to step further up and further in. That means asking for what we need. It means trusting that you know. It means taking responsibility on a mammoth scale for what comes next, even when we have no idea what the next step has in store for us.

During our first call as part of The Hollow this week, I invited the women who joined me to express if there is something they feel like they need to support them in the weeks in between the calls. And I realise that this is likely something I’ve asked women who I’ve sat in circle with many times before. But the energy behind that question now is different. In years gone by, I’d have felt like I needed to be doing more to make sure they felt supported and held, offering a cushioning so that they felt the warmth of support that was always available. Now? I fully hold the belief and knowing that if they need something specific, it’s their role in this co-creative space to ask for it. THAT is the way that women become most empowered. It’s no longer my role to provide that padded cushion when we’re not in space together. This is not a passive space where I’m doing the work on behalf of clients anymore - because if I’m being entirely honest, there have been threads of that at play in the past. This is a collaborative experience where I will hold that physical and material space for them to hear/know/see whatever it is they need to inform them of what is needed in this very moment.

Will that calling forward feel comfortable and full of ease for those being called? Absolutely not. Will it challenge what we’ve come to understand collectively as a safe space? Absolutely. Will it push to the edge of what we believe to be possible? 100% it will. The path of least resistance is not going to call us up and in to anything more fully. The whole design of these huge initiatory experiences that are thrown our way are calling us in to them fully. They are never easy to be with or in. They are the vehicle through our own descent and rising. They are the stripping off of all the garments that we’ve come to wear as a part of who and what we are. They are the things which eventually strip us right down to our nakedness, where we eventually see ourselves and the world in a whole new light. This past year has re-shaped my understanding of a safe space entirely, in that I now deeply feel it as a space that provides an anchor, a tether, for me to know myself, to be myself and that calls more of that forward in me, even when it’s a push beyond what I think I’m capable of.

We can’t reach that place or hugely embodied change by following ease alone.

Nobody can do this for us. Not the space holders, not the women who gather around us, not the most loving support in the world. The most empowering thing, the hardest thing, is learning to know what we need, ask for it specifically and then do the actual moving through it ourselves. This is exactly what The Hollow is built to hold and empower.

It's us who need to find our way through. But that doesn't mean we have to do it without a hand at our back. We're allowed to be held in that. By a presence that doesn't waver when it gets dark and messy. That trusts, completely, that we have everything we need within us to navigate our way through

And a final note that feels really important to share. These really pivotal moments can happen in the middle of very real life. We can be walking along, chatting, laughing away one moment. The very next we can be having the deepest of conversations, finding ourselves moving through a deeply profound experience. Then back to ‘real life’ again shortly after, finding yourself sat round a table enjoying a delicious Italian meal accompanied by roaring laughter, in the way that it often does when you gather with your people. It doesn’t mean that the changing experience is limited to the time you’ve been in it. The threads weave long before you land in it and continue long after, when life resumes. Those threads are still weaving for me, nine months later.

The doors to the paid subscription of The Hollow remain open for you to join at any time. We have our second call on Tuesday 21st of July at 8pm. There will be a lovely resource drop in there next week for the week between calls. You’d be so welcome to join us.

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The first call of The Hollow is this evening, Tuesday 7th July at 8pm.

I’ve been holding this space in my heart for a long time and tonight we meet in that space for the first time. …

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In fact, it’s changed many times over the course of my life.

But this most recent definition feels like the most true of all.

For me, a safe space is held by someone (this can also mean ourselves) who has the capacity to witness the entirety of our current experience. The comfort AND the discomfort. The joy and the grief. The gratitude and the shame. And not need to change any of it. To see it, to see you, exactly as you’re experiencing it.

No redirection. No attempt to ‘change your state’ as if lighter is better. No reflecting back with a projected perception of what’s seen. Just a pure witnessing. An ability to witness the bigness that’s being felt internally without fear. With a trust that everyone and everything has it’s own cycle, if we allow ourselves to be moved by and moved through it.

For me, this safety is enhanced by my deep (and continually growing) trust in the unseen support that forms around each of us.

What comes next, I hadn’t at all planned to share as I sat down to type today. But there is a very clear nudge that this is to be written and shared.

In the days leading up to Autumn Equinox last year, as the descent into Autumn was mirrored all around us, I was in the thick of procedures around my health, trying to determine the extent of what was going on in my body so that I could make an informed decision around what course of action was best to take. My body felt traumatised from the procedures themselves, as well as so much old wounding throwing itself up to be sat with. I sat in front of my altar and I asked my guides to show me that I was supported through it. I needed to feel more supported than I did and I needed them to show me so that I could viscerally feel that support in my body.

Within seconds I was being led down through the layers of the Earth, travelling at the most rapid speed, until I found myself sat at the centre of the Earth herself, inside a beautiful dark cave, just a dim light of a small fire at the centre. As I looked around the space, a circle of ancient women formed, each of them carrying their own vastly different energy to the next. As I sat beside the fire, these women, who I believe to be the Ancient Grandmothers, all gathered materials together and began to build a nest at my feet. In the dark of this cave, the nest made of beautiful golden threads, light fabrics and feathers, moss and fern, with branches of willow.

As they completed the nest, they returned to form the circle around me, one of these Grandmothers remaining at my side. As I turned to look at her, I saw her thick and glossy raven wings at her back for the first time. She placed her hand on the back of my heart and without her uttering a word, I somehow heard the words ‘get in’. As I gently lowered myself into the nest, she helped me to get comfortable, adding further layers of support around me, almost swaddling me in the nest. I could viscerally feel that support in my body as I sat in this deep meditation, by now, curled up in a ball on my own floor with my hand woven blanket wrapped around me.

As I felt myself drop into that deeper state of surrender, feeling more held than I had felt in quite some time, a portal in the floor beneath me in that cave opened and I was free falling down through deeper layers of nothingness. While visually there was no support to be seen in that moment, I felt her hand continuously at my back. As I landed in that deeper void space of nothing, no being visibly present, I could feel that circle of support. I could still feel the hand at my back. I could feel the support and the comfort of the nest.

As I gently landed back from that incredibly nurturing journey. I sat for a really long while, allowing myself to absorb the magnitude of support that I could feel, see, smell, hear around me in that space. To be with the support that was still viscerally felt in my body. And that support, which has barely wavered since that moment, has been the one constant throughout this entire journey that has not been conditional in any way.

The ravens have been physically present in places where they never had been before. Constantly reminding me of that hand at my back and her beautiful glossy wings.

As I’m moving out of that descent myself, the way this support shows and presents itself now is changing. It’s growing and evolving with my own growth and evolution.

My senses are expanding and the way I’m being guided in my work has grown exponentially since welcoming it in in a bigger way.

What I’m hearing is that this needs to be shared as evidence of the unseen support that is all around us. As a reminder that all we need to do is ask and be open to receiving it.

This comes with caution that the unseen support is not here to please us. It’s not here to help us bypass. It’s here to bring us into and support us through whatever we need to experience for our greatest good. It’s here for what is real and true. It is supportive, yes, but make no mistake that it calls you more fully and more deeply into yourself, into your power. That’s the product of walking this path of descent fully and honestly. And when that’s stirred and awoken, it comes with a responsibility to weave it into and through your being, your life and out into the world. What that looks like for each of us is enormously unique and different.

What I had actually come here to talk about today, was how different schools of thought have different definitions of what it means to create or be in a safe space, all of them true in their own ways. How I’d landed at my own definition. How some spaces and places are almost afraid of the very real and very necessary cracking open that can happen when we attune to real deep safety. How we must absolutely use our discernment when it comes to choosing space holders as our witness.

I had more to say about all of it. But I'm being told to stop here, so I’m going to listen.

Let the magnitude of your own unseen support be felt if that feels right for you. Let yourself go there. It wants to make itself known. All it needs is your invitation.

After the terror of not knowing in the months that led to that point, the huge fear that I might dip so low that I might never come back, the relief of that truth landing saw me erupt into tears. The silent tears that just fall and fall and fall some more. The effortless tears. The tears that soak your clothes and wash the pain of what’s gone as they fall.

I had held so much apprehension around what it would mean to be without my physical womb, that I would feel devoid of something that I would only be able to feel with it present. But in that very moment, I realised that I actually felt relief in such a physical visceral way, that I was no longer holding such a dense and overburdened part of me. And the fear for my life was no longer present. I could never have imagined the relief that came.

As the tears rolled and the sweet relief landed, the words ‘The Hollow’ presented themselves with a potency I couldn’t deny. I grabbed my journal, which I hadn’t written in for what felt like an age and wrote the words ‘The Hollow’ in huge letters to fill the page.

I opened the notes app on my phone and began a new folder. The title? The Hollow.

Then I closed my journal and the notes app and didn’t open them for months.

Rather than digging into it, I just sat in it. Sat with it. Sat as it.

And whenever I dared to let it slip my conscious mind, my journal would fall open on the page where The Hollow was scrawled, the notes app on my phone would pop a notification up to remind me that it was there or I would see a hollow in a tree and I’d instantly feel the velvety mossy cocoon of it’s medicine.

In the spirit of total transparency, it didn’t always feel supportive to be in that space. As the reality hit of what had fallen away and what had gone for good, I found myself falling deeper and deeper into that hollow. The grief of that was all consuming. Sometimes losing days to the floor of our spare bedroom, curled up in a ball, just letting the emotion move. Further insights into the bigness of what had gone and what was reweaving brought a real sense of instability and I felt like I was in it totally alone. I didn’t know who or what would still be in my life when I rose out of it, there was no part of my life that hadn’t been placed under the spotlight. In the real depths of it, I knew I had to be in it alone. Nobody else could feel what I needed feel. It wasn’t for anyone else to do this for me or with me. I knew that the only way out of this was through it.

Over time, through total surrender to the process, I knew I had to trust that eventually the tide would turn. And I knew, that when it did, whatever came next would be unrecognisable.

The foundations on which my life is built have been excavated and relayed in entirely different ways. My internal world has shifted in ways where I barely recognise the strength that now lives in me. The dynamics in all of my relationships have changed where I no longer betray myself to keep others happy. My work has shifted in ways that are really hard to verbalise, but is energetically more clean and true than it’s ever been. My voice has grown in clarity and the words I choose to speak are more true than ever. This body that carries me through my days is more loved, respected and honoured, with so much gratitude for it’s wisdom, holding and tenacity. No longer needing to escape my physicality to feel safe, choosing to root myself further into the full spectrum of it’s senses, magic and beauty at every opportunity.

The change hasn’t ended with the internal landscape. My external way of moving through life has shifted exponentially. The most embodied I have ever felt, making choices that align wholly and truly with where I am right now. Leaving behind systems that ask us to outsource our agency to choose for ourselves. Saying no when things don’t feel good. Asking for what we actually need and allowing myself to receive that. Using my voice to advocate for myself and my family. Verbalising when boundaries have been crossed and asserting what change is needed.

All of this is only possible because I really allowed myself to settle into and surrender to the medicine of the hollow.

As I was beginning to feel the stirrings of returning to work, The Hollow got louder and louder and more and more present, refusing to retreat until I started to let it move me into action. This offering feels so much bigger than me. Bigger than all of us. It’s very much born through me and feels very much alive, growing as I breathe light into it. Here to weave change through all of us. Into our bodies. Into the Earth. Into our lives. As we navigate this collective death and rebirth together.

The Hollow will not seek to fix, mend or make anything better. The Hollow will create that velvety mossy darkness, for you to sit in the discomfort of what’s fallen or is falling away, clearing the way for what comes next. A space for you to be witnessed in your messy unravelling. A tether to the here and now, while you go swimming beneath the surface, knowing that you have that direct line back to this physical space and time. It’s a space that will offer invitations for you to take and use to hold yourself through your space of no thing with tenderness and compassion.

Over the last couple of weeks it’s clear that while we sit in this space, clearing will be happening, gently sweeping through the density that serves no further purpose for you. We will be sitting in a space that is held by the most nurturing and supportive light (although it might not always feel that way), as we witness the darkest corners of ourselves. Knowing that when our time in The Hollow has ran it’s natural course, we will find ourselves born anew in ways that we may not be able to comprehend right now.

This is a space for women who can feel that they need to leave the old behind. Who know that there are so many parts to their lives that no longer feel good or resonant to who they’re becoming. For the women who can feel so much falling away but are yet to find the space to really be with that. For those who resist sitting with no-thing, who seek to distract themselves from the discomfort of the death in the descent. Who are ready to give themselves the real, frank and compassionate witnessing that’s needed to move into the new.

The Hollow is waiting, and so, I believe, are you.

Lots of love

Christina

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Below the talking, the processing, the reaching for solutions. Below the well-meaning advice and the gentle redirects back toward the light. A place that most healing spaces, however loving and well meaning, cannot quite reach.

I know that place. I’ve been swimming in these depths for twelve years. And a little over a year ago, I was pulled under further than I’d ever gone before.

I ended last year with a devastating hysterectomy after facing suspected cancer in my womb. My womb, the part of me that I had always associated with my creativity, my femininity, my power as a woman. Gone. It almost broke me completely. I retreated from everything and everyone. Nothing around me could meet me in the true depths of what I was carrying. And I realise now they weren’t meant to. So I walked into the darkness alone. For three long, hard months I navigated it in near total isolation. Doors closed, curtains drawn, deep in my own tomb, void of my own womb.

I noticed something in that time. Almost every space I tentatively reached toward had an undercurrent. A subtle, well-meaning, but unmistakable attempt to move me somewhere lighter. To rush me out of the dark space, as if the darkness were a problem. As if the descent itself were something to be corrected rather than inhabited.

Please know that the darkness is not the problem.

Lighter is not better. It is just more comfortable, more palatable to those around us. And there is just as much, if not more; medicine, wisdom, power and transformation available in the depths as there is in the rising. We need both. The descent and the return. The dying and the composting AND the slow, eventual bloom. Rush any part of it and you lose something you can’t get back.

I know this not just from my own experience, but from years of witnessing it in others. I also know, as someone who feels so deeply, that I have sometimes gone too far the other way. Stayed under so long I lost the thread back. Which has its own kind of imbalance. And I know this is a fear that so many hold around allowing themselves to drop down and in. The Hollow exists to hold that balance. To be the tether while you fall. To witness you so steadily that you can finally begin to witness the powerful strength within yourself.

It’s in that process that things begin to move. Not by someone pulling you out, but when someone sees you, fully, exactly where you are and they aren’t afraid of a single inch of it.

After those months alone, I landed in a call with my teacher and mentor. The simplest thing. No performance, no advice, no agenda. Just a held space. And within moments of entering the space, I broke open completely, sobbing in a way I had been scared to allow myself to let go, for months. I continued sobbing for days. Because that one point of real witnessing in a space that could hold the intensity of my experience gave me the strength to see myself clearly and to know I had what I needed to keep going.

That moment is why The Hollow exists.

Women should not have to white-knuckle their way through the depths alone.

I lost my womb and found that I am the hollow. A living, breathing void. The void, and I know this with every part of me, is not empty. It is the most fertile and creative space of all. It is the place where all that was has died away, where all that’s to come is born from. I am a creative portal. And this space is my offering to every woman who is descending, unravelling, sitting in the place that is so hard to articulate to anyone who hasn’t been there, wondering if anyone else has ever felt this way.

Let me tell you, I have, She has, we have. And none of us have to be in it alone.

What you can expect in The Hollow…

• A monthly membership

• 2 live calls a month held online so that you can join from your own cave. There will be no recordings. You either show up for yourself or you don’t. This is not something to be consumed, but is something to be lived in real time, in real presence, with real people

• In the weeks between calls, you will receive written and/or audio offerings to resource yourself as you navigate your descent

• This is a simple, grounded, real space, stripped of all performance

This space is for you if…

• You are in the unravelling and you’re done pretending you aren’t

• You’ve tried the spaces that rush you back to the light and something in you knows there is further to go first

• You are ready, even though you’re on your knees, to be witnessed without being fixed or needing to be handed the answers

• You want to find your own way through, but want to feel tethered to safe space while you drop even deeper

• You are ready to take full responsibility for yourself and your own descent and want to feel held while you do the hardest, most important work of your life

This space is not for you if…

• You want to be guided out of the darkness as quickly as possible

• You are not yet ready to take radical responsibility for your own experience

• You aren’t willing to commit to resourcing yourself as you navigate the darkness

• You want someone to show you the way and advise you on how to move forward

The only way out is through. And I’ll be with you in it.

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There’s so much still processing from walking those foreign lands and soaking up the wisdom of the ancient waters. More to come on that at a later date. I’ll leave you with a snippet of the utter beauty we were so blessed to be surrounded by. But in this now, there are a couple of things that feel clearer than ever.

In the spirit of standing here, shoulder to shoulder with you, I’m going to share a little around the truths that have landed and the changes that we’re navigating as a family right now, something I’ve been intentionally quiet about until now. My reason for sharing is this: I could allow all of these things to make me take another step back in my work in the name of ease. And that would be true, to take anything off my plate would bring more ease. But it would not bring me joy. Carving out time to really let my own medicine make it’s way through feels like an act of devotion right now. This moment of creating the space to sit and write, to let whatever needs and wants to flow down and through to sprawl across the page. Often times even surprising myself with what’s written by the time I read it back.

The way we navigate life as a family has changed entirely

As I was recovering from surgery at the beginning of this year, it became clear that we had to make some changes around the way we were expecting my daughter to show up for school each day. We were asking her to override her body’s hard no multiple times before even getting her out of the house and into a classroom each morning. Then were having to help her navigate huge dissociation and a checking out when she got home every day. The way this played out for her, is her story to tell, if and when she chooses to one day. But for me, this meant that I was having to go against absolutely everything that I stand for and I felt like the spark of my little girl was fading away more and more each day.

In moving through the past year, I have seen so clearly, many of the times, spaces and places where I had been required to override my own body’s no in response to societal and familial expectations, without people around me having the knowledge, awareness, tools or capacity to recognise what was happening. I could not allow that to repeat itself with my girl, knowing the impact that it had had on myself, working with women who spend their lifetimes trying to repair that trust with their bodies. I was not prepared to continue the severing that was forming between my daughter and her body. I could no longer allow her to absorb the message that you have to conform to a single way of doing something, just because someone who considers themselves more powerful than you said so. So after much thought and deliberation, back in March we deregistered her from school and chose to embark on a home education journey.

It’s worth noting here, that throughout the years of advocating for her in school, my own conditioning around having been a pupil but also a teacher within that system was so strong. The good girl in me would come out frequently and I’d have to really lovingly wrestle with her to be able to do what was right by Alys over protecting myself by trying to make sure I wasn’t seen as a ‘difficult’ parent. Through the loss of my womb, I was led into exploring how I was still giving away my power to systems outside of me, I had to look the places where I was still actively feeding and being fed by those patriarchal narratives. School was one of the loudest. It then became apparent, that if I would allow it, the good girl and the need to be seen in a certain light by that environment, could have left along with my womb. The ferocity that rose in me to make sure that my daughter was seen and heard became louder, clearer and more frequent. At that point I realised that I could shout as loudly as I wanted, but I couldn’t change the system in which she was having to operate within. The teachers couldn’t change the system they were working within. I knew that better than anyone. If I wanted to make sure her needs were being met and to protect her wellbeing, then we were going to have to find another way entirely. For us, that meant stepping out of it altogether.

As you can imagine, this has led to extraordinary change in the way we are living our lives on every level. The spaciousness I had built into my life disappeared overnight. And any solo devotional practise has had to be more intentional and more focused than ever. But one of the most powerful changes for me, is how living life in general, has had to become an act of devotion to myself, my daughter, the life we are in right now and the life we want to shape for ourselves moving forward. Pretty bloody on point considering my main intention for the year was to live life more fully, with deeper connection and meaning.

Had this unfolded 12 months earlier, I would not have had the capacity to weave this change in or the lived wisdom to feel empowered in our choice. Another golden nugget which came to the fore in the process of sitting with my own wounded parts, I was shown the ways in which I had made it my responsibility to mother so many of the people around me, often to my detriment, simply to feel safe in those relationships. In building up my own capacity to recognise it and call that energy back, something really incredible happened that I hadn’t expected or even realised was so necessary. I found that my capacity to mother my own daughter increased ten fold. This, alongside the certainty of knowing that there would be no more children coming into our lives, a fierce mamma bear energy that I hadn’t experienced before as a mother, came online. Most importantly, for the first time since becoming a mother, despite being recently post op, I had the capacity and energy to embody it. I feel like I have reclaimed responsibility as a mother in many ways.

Our little water being has really been instrumental in my healing, in calling more of me forward and in requiring me to live this life more fully. Where it would have been really easy to have stayed tucked away in my own solitary healing cave for longer, instead, we’ve thrown ourselves into so many gorgeous opportunities, spending real quality time together, learning to adjust to each other’s rhythms in a way we haven’t done since her first year of life. I’ve found myself sat behind the wheel of the car more than ever, spinning us around from one place to the next, immersing ourselves in nature more intentionally and allowing our great mother to be our biggest teacher in more ways than one. And while sometimes it feels a lot, it’s also pretty damn beautiful and I consider us incredibly lucky to be in the position to be doing this.

However, I would not be being entirely honest if I didn’t share that it’s also led to massive overwhelm at times, where I’ve been trying to juggle my freelance work at the kitchen table with Alys sat beside me getting stuck into a project, with a gazillion requests for snacks through the day. It’s meant that my time for one to one client work and my own inner work is less than ever. In some ways, it’s felt like a mirror of those newborn days. No plan feels like it’s set in stone anymore, everything feels changeable. To add anything extra in the calendar feels like an assault to the space we do have, but despite all of that, I really wouldn’t change it.

I asked to live life more fully this year and that’s exactly what I’ve got. I’m IN this life. More anchored, more rooted than I think I ever have been before. Of course sometimes it feels like we’re on autopilot, but a moment of intention, of deepening my breath, of taking in my surroundings and I’m right back here in the middle of it.

Woven through this huge change, deep in my own process as I move through the most gorgeously curated year long container of support, my own creative fires are burning away with so much power behind them. This space being one of the many potent seeds planted from that work. The truth of what’s brewing there has felt urgent, like it needs to be acted on and channelled into being right now. I’ve learned that I don’t enjoy that sense of urgency, as someone who needs to let things brew and move in my own time. When that urgency lands, I have a tendency to turn away from the medicine and busy myself with practical things that I convince myself are more important, but are really just a distraction and tool for avoidance.

Today as I write, on landing back from our fabulous trip away, I’ve realised just how overwhelming life had become in the weeks leading up to it. A huge part of that overwhelm caused by the part of me that needed to avoid and distract away from what has been landing. As if life wasn’t busy enough, I made it my mission to have a massive house clear out and let overthinking and anxiety run wild around preparing to go away. As I’ve sat with the energy in my nervous system as we returned home, there was a hint of ‘oh shit’, that was a lot, followed by a need to strip everything back again.

One of the things that I have questioned over the last few days is my work and how I balance that, while it feels so big, with a very full life. My old way would have been to shut things down again, keep a couple of one to one clients going, but let the rest of it go quiet. A thread which I realise plays out as a form of protection during a period of growth. But my heart really doesn’t want that this time. My work feels like one of the most powerful acts of devotion right now, that I want to be able to show up to that fully. So I have come to the conclusion: my capacity for one to one clients is limited to three sessions a week at most, where my time keeping must be on point. Then we have this gorgeous group space of ‘The Hollow’, which feels like the best possible use of my time to have the biggest impact, holding the space for women just like me to intentionally move through and maybe even drop deeper into their own descent. Whatever else wants to make its way through, I’ll meet it when I have the capacity.

In perfectly right timing, as I landed back on British soil on Saturday morning, I found myself asking for a reading from a powerful Goddess who brought the medicine I needed to hear. It’s really time to allow more of myself to be witnessed in my work, to step more fully in, with both feet. To work my magic and not give a flying fuck about who’s watching – her words, and so gratefully received.

So that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

Perhaps the timing of things might look different to how I’d first planned. I can live with that. As I say, everything feels changeable right now. But I’m not going anywhere. It’s time to bring more of those unseen parts of me to the fore.

For all of us.

I’m so grateful that you’re here along for the ride.

More Soon

Christina x

PS - This is the reality of the work. Not the pretty performative version that looks neat and resolved and ready to be packaged up. The version that’s alive, ever unfolding, sometimes overwhelming and always, always asking more of us.

This is what The Hollow is here to hold. Not just the logic and storytelling of the experience, but the real embodiment that leads to very real, often radical change.

If any part of this has spoken to something in you, come and join us. The first call is Tuesday 7th July at 8pm. You can upgrade your subscription below.

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Over the weekend, some really clear guidance dropped in around the timing of opening The Hollow. In honouring that, we are going to wait until after Summer Solstice before we begin.

When spirit speaks, I’ve learned that it benefits everyone to listen. And truthfully, beginning just after the Solstice, after we have reached the peak of Summer, before the slow and steady turn inward begins, feels much more aligned for the space.

Our first call will now be on Tuesday 7th July at 8pm, with our second call on Tuesday 21st July at 8pm.

In the meantime, if something has been stirred in you and you don’t want to wait, I have a limited number of 1:1 appointments available throughout June. A space to be held, witnessed and supported as you navigate whatever is moving through you right now. If that feels like it’s calling you, drop me a message or send me an email and we’ll find the right time.

If you’ve already reached out and expressed interest in joining us, thank you. Your patience and trust means everything. The space is being tended carefully and it will be ready when it’s meant to be.

If you’ve been sitting on the fence, perhaps this extra time is yours, too. To feel into whether this is calling you. To let it land a little longer before you decide.

I have much that I’d like to shared in answer to questions I’ve received - it’s coming, again, in its own time. In the past I’d have rushed to get that out there, but in really listening to what my body needs right now, I am feeling the pull of the Moon as she moves into her darkest phase this week. More layers peeling away!

The only way out is through. And we’ll begin when the time is right.

Lots of love Christina x

I spent the past Beltane weekend on the beautiful land in Mid Wales with a gorgeous group of women, as I took another bite of the apple, a year long journey into weaving the feminine back into my being. There is so much moving within me, so much integrating and settling after a bumpy landing home. But there is one thing that’s as clear as day. And as I contemplated whether now was the time to be sharing this or not, the medicine of the Woodpecker became louder as he flew overhead.

One of the biggest learnings to have come from the journey of the past year has been to stop trying to apply logic and intelligence to the mysteries that are unfolding within me.

Since I began on my own healing journey 12 years ago, my way of moving through the shifting energy was to try and make sense of it in the mind. I would listen to my intuition, follow the nudges and I would draw conclusions around what it meant. Always looking for meaning. An explanation. Applying logic and intelligence to what was going on. My most asked question over the years would definitely have been: “what does this mean?”. I’d find myself diving into books and learning, projecting further meaning onto my experience, even shaping my experience, rather than allowing my own experience to unfold in it’s own way, in it’s own time. On reflection, this absolutely had its place and was right for the space I was in at the time. It served its purpose in helping me to weave real change within and outside of myself.

But there is one thing for certain, my journey through the deepest dark has completely shattered my ability to make meaning in the same way. No logical explanation or applying of intellectual understanding felt like it even came close to encompassing what I was experiencing deep within my body and in my wider energetic field. There was no book that felt like it held any answers. In truth, I felt like my specific experience had been excluded from most literature. My ability to even sit down with books that tried to impart meaning was zero. I felt repulsed by them. My bookshelf was growing in size, as certain books would cross my path, knowing they will have a place at some time, they remained on the shelf gathering dust.

It’s no exaggeration to say that I’ve found myself experiencing some of the most life changing moments I’ve ever experienced over the past Winter. It feels wild to say that while I know this to be true with every fibre of my being, I have no words to explain what unfolded in those most profound moments. My logical understanding of what happened is lacking. My felt sense? That lets me know with the strongest and most visceral way. When I really feel into it and I lean into archetypal energy, I feel threads of various archetypes weaving their way through my experience. Supporting me through it, to leaning into the surrender and trust that everything has a cycle, that this deep pain won’t be this intense forever. But still not bringing logic or story to it.

This might make it sound like it came naturally for me to be with that experience, to be in the unknown with ease. But that isn’t the truth. When everything felt like it was falling apart, when I felt like I was drawing close to death, all I wanted was some clarity and an answer. But there were none to be found. So I had no choice but to sit in it if I was to continue living, while physical parts of me were literally dying.

When people ask how I’m doing, or how I’ve been, I honestly don’t know and haven’t known how to answer. I don’t know how to articulate what’s moved through and what is still moving through. How do you convey the depth and the swimming in the unseen through words? I don’t think it’s possible.

Something I’ve come to realise is, at the point of trying to make the meaning and apply the logic, is the point at which I stunt the mystery around what needs to move. Where the unravel might have continued had I allowed it to move and breathe freely, I’ve caged it with a narrative or an explanation.

Now that I’m beginning the ascent, I know that the biggest, most potent work of my life has been in swimming in the depths of the unseen, deep in the mysteries of life and death. Where there is no clear cut answer. Where there is no logic. Where nothing is certain. Where we can ask all of the questions we’d like to know the answers to, but we might have to wait on the timing of the unseen threads to weave together before we receive them. And even then, it might not arrive in the way we’d hoped.

When sitting in circle with other women as we’ve moved through the most potent work over this Winter, I have had to really drop down into my body and recognise where that meaning making part of myself is still very much alive and kicking, wanting to take over. As someone who has spent most of her life not feeling seen or heard, the opportunity to try and share it all is so tempting. Yet the moment I open my mouth to speak and try to articulate it, something that doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface is what chooses to be spoken. The biggest truth finding it’s way up and out through sound without words or the sharing of single words or a simple sentence. It appears that when I whittle the resonance down to the simplicity of a word or a sentence, less expresses so much more.

As my beautifully wise teacher shared with me, after my most mystical experience yet; some things are not meant to be explained. We are meant to hold some things close to our chest. We are meant to keep some things sacred. And in my experience, the longer I hold them there, the more they have to show me, the more medicine they continue to bring, the more the threads continue to weave.

Please know that being witnessed is so much more than being witnessed in the words you choose to use. Being witnessed is being seen in your entirety, not just heard. Being witnessed is hearing what’s not said, seeing the emotion, feeling your presence and the energy and depths that you bring.

The Hollow is a space where there will be opportunity to share, but this is not solely a sharing circle. This is going to be a space where you’re led into your own depths to sit with the unseen in the way it’s showing up for you, to allow the mysteries within you to unravel. To expand your own capacity to sit with the unknown. It’s going to create the conditions within your body so that you can go there. It will provide the anchor and the tether to call you back into the space, back into your space, into your body so that you’re not left in the depths alone. For some, you might find yourself swimming there alone already, then perhaps this space will provide the space to come up for air, to resource yourself, to ‘refuel’ and to feel the holding of a group space before you drop right back down again. We will show our bodies that we are still fully living, while it feels like huge parts of us are dying.

I’m not coming to this space with any answers to any questions. I’m creating this space so that you can move with your own questions through your own dark. As Pluto moves retrograde and the collective pull inward deepens, the timing of this space feels anything but accidental.

If you’re ready to dive in to The Hollow, you can upgrade to a paid subscription below, our first call is on Tuesday 2^nd of June at 8pm. I will be limiting spaces to just six women for the first month. If you’re feeling called to join and have any questions, don’t hesitate to drop me a message or pop me an email.

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Some things are not meant to be explained. But they are meant to be felt. I’ll see you in the depths.

Lots of love

Christina x

As we witness the crumble outside of ourselves, so many of us are experiencing a mirroring of that fall happening on a very personal level. And it’s so uncomfortable, so painful, so full of anger, grief, absolute rage and fury, on a whole other scale to what we’ve ever experienced before.

Perhaps you’re questioning your place in the world, the way that you’ve moved through life up to here, and perhaps even the way you’ve engaged and are still engaging with those broken systems. The systems that are built on a hierarchical structure, which rely on us handing over our power to people who think they know us and our children better than we know ourselves. The systems that don’t consider the whole picture of who we are beyond the narrow lens through which they choose to look. The systems that demonise and shame any steps that we might take outside of their single track path. The systems that are reliant on compliance from us.

As you sit and reflect upon your relationship with all of that, it’s undoubtedly going to give rise to a crumbling in you. When they form the foundation upon which we’ve built and live our lives, their crumbling directly affects all of us. We begin to see all of the ways in which we’ve allowed the untrue messaging that we receive to form our truth, we begin to see how it ripples through everything.

As the literal foundations of our world are cracking open, so are our internal foundations, giving rise to an overwhelming grief for what’s gone before.

These times have been prophesised by the ancients.

This is so much bigger than us as individuals, but relies upon us each choosing to strip everything back to the bones, so that we can rebuild from there.

And it is in that hollow, in that void, in that place of no-thing, where we’re stripped right back, that the magic of re-weaving begins to happen.

You start to hear the whispers that have been waiting beneath every layer of everything you were told to be.

These are the whispers of what comes next.

It’s in following those whispers, received through our own descent, that in our own time, we each get to breathe a new world into being.

What comes next does not look like what we are leaving behind. It does not look like corrupt structures holding power over us. It looks like community, standing shoulder to shoulder. Rooted in our bodies. Rooted in our lives. Rooted in our communities. Rooted in love. Where equality and moving through our hearts is the baseline. Not the exception. The baseline.

But to get there, we have to walk through the flames first. Strip everything right back, to your big and beautiful heart.

We have to sit in the place of no-thing. Strip away the bone-deep shadow and the mis-truths we’ve been taught as gospel and see how they’ve become entrenched in us. We have to look at the patriarchal impact on our lives, how we’ve lived and breathed and absorbed the messaging out there, and to see our place in it. We have to question what we want to bring with us into what comes next. Question what’s staying. To courageously release the old, toxic ways.

And sometimes we don’t have a choice. The decision can often be made for us in brutal ways. But there’s a magic in that, too.

So many of us are already doing this work but resisting that pull down beneath the surface to go even deeper. Afraid of what we might find lurking there.

I’m not going to sugar coat it. It isn’t pretty. It’s brutal.

But without it, without the willingness to go all the way in, how can we even begin to weave in real change?

We have a choice. Do we allow ourselves to be taken to the depths? To see things as they really are? To let go of the parts of us that exist out of duty, through conditioning, expectation and fear? Or do we carry on as if everything is hunky dory and hope for the best?

The systems only continue to work if we stay quiet. This feels like a real fork in the road moment where we either choose to evolve and move with the change that’s being asked of us in this collective initiation or we accept that we’re a slave to it. To the consequences of being silent and not speaking up. It’s time to let go of the version of you who tolerates everything that you know at your core as unjust and untrue. Knowing that tolerance is nothing more than a protective mechanism to maintain your place within the social systems that we live in.

The antidote to this is coming together with like minded women, in community, who are walking through this clearing with the same integrity as you are. With other women who are experiencing this ferocious burning of everything to the ground, as we embody the waste land, before we rebuild in a way that we’ve not experienced before.

The Hollow Womb is here for the women who are choosing to walk through the flames, to swim in the deep, to let it all burn.

The space itself won’t take you there, only you can do that. But it will be your tether while you swim in the depths. It will hold the space while you fall even deeper into your body and into the truth of your experience. It will provide the witnessing that reminds you you’re not alone. And when you’ve lost all sense of the thread back, it will draw you back to the ground that holds you, to your centre that still exists within you and the life force that moves through you.

You don’t have to white-knuckle your way through this period of purification alone.

The world is crumbling so that it can be reborn. And so are you.