Aaron and June

*This is a sample of my fiction writing. It’s a short scene I wrote recently to help me figure out something about my character, Aaron, who is one of the protagonists in the fantasy trilogy I’m writing. I like writing backstory scenes to help me understand where I’m going in my story. It’s unlikely this scene will be in the final manuscript, it takes place before the opening scene of the first book. I hope you enjoy! I appreciate any comments or feedback.

“I thought you weren’t allowed to tell me what you see in the caves,” Aaron said. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned away from June.

June’s expression was unreadable. Aaron was pretty sure the Sisters taught her how to look like that. Guarded. Whereas he wore his feelings on his face all the time. “Strictly speaking,” June said, mirroring Aaron and folding her arms too. The faintest hint of amusement played behind her pale, cat-like, yellow eyes, “I’m not telling you anything I saw. I’m telling you what I’ve interpreted the messages to mean.”

“And what if you’re wrong?” Aaron said. He unfolded his arms and leaned in, curiosity getting the better of him. His grandmother had always had the ability to draw him.

June stared at him. He’d known what her reaction was going to be. June was never wrong. Aaron knew that’s how she saw herself. “I don’t believe I’m wrong about this,” was her unsurprising response.

“Okay, let me hear it then,” he said.

June nodded. She always had a seriousness about her, especially when it came to matters of the Sisterhood, but this was more than that. June never gave into things like worry. Was that what Aaron saw behind her austere gaze? “Midgarden needs you, Aaron.”

Whatever he thought June was going to say, it wasn’t that. He burst out laughing. “What do you mean, needs me? I’m nothing, nobody.”

June’s gaze was sharp and countering. A shiver ran down Aaron’s spine that inserted a fragment of doubt into his mind. “You’re serious?” Aaron said, leaning even closer towards June.

“I am.”

“What could Midgarden possibly need from me?”

“Your powers are manifesting, Aaron. It’s time you go home.”

“Home?” Aaron almost shouted the words. “Home? Midgarden isn’t my home.” He felt a flood of emotion coming. And neither is the Wise Isle, he said to himself. He belonged nowhere. Years ago he’d accepted that this was his life: being alone and ignored- even scorned- on this cursed island with a Sisterhood who looked at men like useless dogs.

June seemed to sense his emotion and reached out to put a hand on his leg. “Midgarden is as much your home as it is mine. You know, I left when I was close to your age.”

“I know,” Aaron said. He brushed a spill of tears from his cheek as discreetly as he could. But June missed nothing.

“You don’t know as much as you think.”

Aaron let out a huff of agitation. “Oh yeah? Okay.” He leaned back against his chair and looked at the ceiling, praying that no more tears would come.

“Do you want to hear my story?”

Aaron sat upright and faced her. His wide eyes were answer enough for June.

“I was born on the Isle. You know that. My mother, Maya, was in a prestigious role within the Sisterhood.”

“She was one of the Three Sisters,” Aaron blurted out. He’d learned some things in his eleven years living on the Isle and he knew that the Three Sisters were most revered for their prophetic powers and oracular abilities. Another name for them was the Three Fates, because the prophecies they channeled from the depths of the cave were often profound and foretold important influences and events to come.

June nodded. “My mother, Maya, got pregnant with me by a man who was visiting the Isle. It was a scandal and the Sisterhood was furious. Someone in her role was forbidden to engage with,” she paused, unable to hide her grin, “in that kind of way with the opposite sex. She was nearly cast out, but her absence had an ill affect and there was no one was powerful as her to take her place.”

“So they let her back in even though she was pregnant?”

“They did. She was even allowed to live with my father for a time, or so I am told.” She gave Aaron a sharp look. “You think I’m hard to read, my mother was harder.”

“I don’t know how that’s possible,” Aaron muttered, but he grinned at his grandmother.

June winked at him. “My father left. Rather, Maya told him to leave. She said she couldn’t do her work with him around.”

“Seriously?” Aaron asked, his jaw on the floor.

June nodded with a pained expression. “So I was raised by the Sisterhood with the intention to take my mother’s place as one of the Three Sisters. It wasn’t a role I ever wanted. Though I’ll admit, even when I was young, I knew I was a natural. I denied it, but I could always sense my power.”

Aaron tried to hide his emotion, his stomach hollow and empty. Powerless, was a more appropriate word for how he felt about himself. How could he be so pathetic when he had grandmothers who were skilled prophetess? He pushed the thought away.

“You don’t have the same power as I do,” June said, reading his mind. She had that way about her. It both annoyed and comforted Aaron. “You have your own power, Aaron, and it’s just beginning to reveal itself to you.”

Aaron let out a disbelieving huff.

June ignored it. “I grew tired of the strict regimen of the Sisterhood,” June continued. “Long hours in the dark weighed on my young spirit. I wanted adventure. I wanted life. And so, one day I told my mother that I was leaving to find my father in Midgarden.”

Aaron’s eyes widened. He’d known pieces of this story, but not that. “And what did Maya say?”

“At first, she screamed at me. Told me how selfish I was. That I was abandoning the Sisterhood and my role in the bigger picture of things.”

Aaron leaned forward.

“I told her, not everything revolved around the Sisterhood and that I had a life to live.” She looked at Aaron. “I felt that in my heart.”

“What?” Aaron asked, wondering if he’d ever felt something like that.

“That there was something I was meant to do beyond this island. I felt a pull. I didn’t understand it. In fact, it made no sense; everything pointed to me staying. This was my life. These were my sisters. But I’d been feeling the tug towards something else and it became too strong for me to ignore.” June got up to add a log to the fire. Aaron hadn’t noticed that it was mere embers. “I didn’t know what it would lead to, if anything. I didn’t know if I would be allowed to come back here if what I was searching for didn’t find me.”

“That sounds terrifying,” Aaron said.

“It was.” June smiled.

“So you left? You went to Midgarden?”

“You know I did.”

“And you met Jacob, my grandfather.”

June nodded, a smile that contained both joy and grief filled her face. It was the same expression she always had when Jacob was mentioned. “I met my father too.”

Aaron’s eyes widened. “You did?”

“He was a Vaelo too.”

Aaron gaped at her. Something like excitement and anger stirred in his stomach. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

June’s face remained expressionless. “All things must be revealed in their right time.”

Aaron gritted his teeth. He hated when June talked like that, like a Sister. “Why now?”

“Because the wind says it’s time.”

Aaron rolled his eyes.

“It’s time for you to go to Midgarden, Aaron. I know you’ve been feeling the pull.”

“No, I haven’t.” he said it automatically.

June eyed him.

Aaron gaped at her. “I haven’t. I’ve resigned myself to this place.” His stomach felt hollow again.

“But it’s not your place.”

Her words cut like the blunt edge of an ax into his ribs. Before he could stop anything, a flurry of angry tears spilled down his face. “I don’t belong here. I don’t belong in Midgarden. I don’t know anything about Midgarden. No one wants me anywhere.” He sucked air in angrily and turned on June. “And now you’re, what? Kicking me out?” He was on the verge of thunderous sobs he couldn’t control. He didn’t want to break down in from of June. He gulped air and tried to stuff them down.

“Sit down Aaron,” June said. Her tone was infuriatingly calm.

Aaron circled the living room, his fists balled, and stopped in front of the fire and stared into the now jumping flames.

“Aaron, please.” June’s voice cracked.

Aaron turned.

Her expression was pleading. “I love you, Aaron. Please come sit.”

He sat down in his chair.

“Your dreams. Tell me about them.”

Aaron should have expected this. What he wanted was a hug or an explanation, or for her to say that she wanted him and that everything was going to be okay. Instead, he was being treated like her student. A teacher checking in to see if he was doing his work. “You know what dreams I’ve been having,” he said without keeping the irritation from his voice.

“You’ve been dreaming of her more and more,” June said.

“You know I have.”

“Have you been doing your practices with the dreams?”

Aaron gave her an incredulous and annoyed look. “Yes, you make me.”

“I don’t make you do anything, dear boy.”

“Fine. Yes, I’ve done them.”

“And?”

“And, nothing revealing has come up.”

“Have you done the heart practice?”

“The heart practice?” It had been so long that June had taught him that. He’d nearly forgotten. “No,” he admitted. There was no point trying to lie.

“Do it. Do it tonight.”

“Okay, but I don’t think it will do anything.”

June eyed him. “How do you feel when you dream about the girl?”

Aaron relaxed and considered her. “I feel like…” he didn’t want to say it. June’s crystal eyes bored into him. he made an awkward face. “It feels like she’s me,” he blurted out. “I’m sure you have some mystical interpretation of that.” He felt foolish saying it.

June made no indication that he’d said anything strange. “What else do you feel?”

“Good,” Aaron said. “Good, I guess. I don’t know. Sad too, sometimes. She seems sad. It’s probably my own sadness I’m dreaming about, right?”

“Dreams can be literal,” June said.

Aaron gaped at her. “What do you mean?”

June shrugged. “It’s your dream. Only you can know what it means.”

Ahimsa

I’ve read Deborah Adele’s book “The Yamas and Niyamas” nearly once a year for the past ten years. I’ve taught the Yamas and Niyamas in my yoga classes just as many times. And every time I come back to these foundational teachings, I learn something. They are always relevant, wherever I find myself in life. In more recent years, I found myself coming to these teachings with a hint of self-riotousness hiding under a cloak of confidence. And once again, just like they did in my earlier years of teaching them, they brought me to my knees in awe and humility of just how much there is to learn and refine within ourselves. The Yamas and Niyamas are what I’ve always felt yoga to be: a practice that happens off the mat.

Do you want to change the world? Practice the Yamas and Niyamas and you will.

Ahimsa: non-violence

The rumblings of inspiration for this 10-week series have been stirring in the back of my mind for the past couple of weeks. And, as it so often is with Spirit, it became clear at 5am this past Wednesday morning that the series would start today, with my 6am class.

And so, we begin with the first Yama (restraint), Ahimsa

I recently put a picture of Bob Marley in my writing and creativity corner to remind me to be a vessel of love. Bob Marley radiates the essence of Ahimsa. This was a way of life for him. So may it be for all of us.

The word violence most often conjures images and notions of war and brutal aggression in our minds, which is one form violence can take. But violence can show up in subtle and nuanced ways too. Hatred that results in physical acts of violence is seeded by violence’s more minuscule forms of hatred that, when not caught and tended to within us, grow unconsciously into something deeply damaging.

What if yoga, more than refining the physical postures in our bodies, was a path of refining ourselves into vessels of love and compassion?

Yoga is a path back to who we really are. What if, dare I say, who we are at our foundation is in fact, love? And what if we all remembered this?

For me this remembering takes two forms. One is the wondrous catharsis of having the direct experience with Spirit that we are, in fact, the same love we feel in nature or anything else we consider Divine (which in truth is everything).

But Ahimsa also holds up a mirror for us to see where unconscious hatred lives within us. This is a very confronting and hard thing to look at, as most of us consider ourselves to be peaceful and loving humans. Part of the work of yoga is a willingness to see our own shadows (where hatred hides) and be brave enough to do something about it.

Whatever is in us, inevitably makes its way into the world (because we are not separate from the world- we are a vibrating part of it.)

It was raining this morning and I had to cancel the first yoga in the park of the season. I went to talk to the Elm tree that shelters us, the stirrings of Ahimsa in my mind. It showed me the importance of making ourselves vessels of love. And how important it is to expand our capacity to hold love- a message I receive frequently from the trees. I saw what could happen if each of us took up the task to become greater vehicles for love and it astounded me.

Let’s create that world.  

We must become the change we wish to see in the world. You cannot change the world. You can only change yourself. What if each of us took it upon ourselves to purify and transmute our judgements, hatred and aggression into unconditional love, compassion and peace?

In my experience, to become the change we wish to see in the world, we must first be willing to accept that quite possibly, some of the violence and biases we condemn in others, also live in us. As mentioned above, this is hard to look at and most people won’t, but that’s part of why our world is where it’s at. 

Following my cat through the garden today, I’m thinking about Ahimsa and how easy it can be to justify our hatred. I thought about people who’ve endured devesting realities. What about our hatred towards those who enslaved and tortured populations of innocent people? Certainly, this kind of hatred is warranted. And yet by us holding onto it, it is perpetuated through generations and through our world. In these extreme cases of unbearable cruelty, forgiveness can feel not only impossible, but undeserved. Yet, in not forgiving, we harbor hatred and resentment in our hearts. Whatever energy lives within us is what we radiate out and what stays alive in our world. This is another subtle and difficult facet of Ahimsa to reconcile within us, one that brings us to our knees. Because, ultimately, what Spirit is asking us is to forgive so that we don’t carry hatred forward. Forgiveness allows us to see life through the eyes of the Creator. We become the alchemists, transmuting poison into medicine, blackness into gold.

Ahimsa asks us to set the past aside and look into the eyes of another human and see that there is light and love in this moment- and to remember that’s what’s real. That love we so often glimpse yet dismiss is what’s underneath all our opinions and judgements. We are not so separate as we would like to believe. And if that idea of oneness is hard to accept, it is undeniable that we are all connected and that our energy and actions affect each other. You are an inseparable thread of this collective weave. Your vibration affects the vibration of the whole- there is a ripple effect- and vice versa. Kindness inspires more kindness and aggression inspires more aggression. 

Think of how road rage can affect us if we allow it to. It is so easy to react when someone cuts us off in traffic. Unless we transmute that energy, we will let it take hold of us and we act it out again, and so that energy ripples out, lest it stops with us. Everything is energy. Conversely, even the smallest act of kindness or generosity can have a similar ripple effect. My boss came in to visit me, with his one year old son, when I was working on my birthday. It was a gift enough just to say hello and play with his son, but he pulled money out of the register and told me to treat myself to dinner after my shift. I was so surprised and grateful for his generosity that I ordered something for my co-worker too. This is a tiny example of how kindness and generosity can ripple out. Or maybe you’ve received an unexpected compliment by a stranger and felt so good that you offered one up to someone else you passed on the street. This is how energy works. Vibes are infectious, for good or ill. What we put out there grows. Ahimsa asks us to choose love and kindness with every thought word and action.

Lokah Samasta Sukhino Bhavantuou: may all beings everywhere be happy and free (and may every though word and action of my life contribute to that happiness and freedom for all). You are the only thing you can really, ever control. We can’t shake anyone awake. We must become the change we wish to see and radiate it out through our hearts, words and actions. We must become a beacon of light. Others will see it. Others will gravitate towards it and ask: how can I be like that? So full of love and light? This is how we change the world: by changing ourselves.

You are responsible for yourself.

The true path of yoga requires incredible discernment and self-honestly, often revealing pieces of ourselves that shock and horrify us (at least, this has been my experience). It is a deeply humbling process that requires us to get down on our knees and see all the ways that the poison of hatred and judgement have made their way into us and how we’ve let them stay. I’ve come to believe that judgement is a form of violence. It has its roots in shame and self-righteousness and is our own opinions and biases turned outward in an aggressive way- a trick of the ego to validate our opinions and affirm our separateness. What is judgement but a minuscule act of violence? It’s hard to acknowledge this- because we are all judgmental. Let us note that there is a difference between judgement and discernment. Discernment is an inner process of being present with what resonates or doesn’t resonate with us. Discernment keeps us safe and centered in our truth. Judgment keeps us self-righteous and separate.

All the Yamas and Niyamas, especially Ahimsa, reminds us that the work of changing the world begins with us. It’s so easy to look outside ourselves and condemn everyone and everything around us. The work of yoga has us look within. There are, of course ways we can contribute in a practical way to efforts of peace and take action to help others in less fortunate positions than us. However, some of us are not able to offer help in this way. So, what can we do? We can do the daily work of being mindful of our thoughts, words and actions and become vehicles of peace, love and compassion. To be this mindful is hard work and a lot of people aren’t up for. I understand why and at the same time it breaks my heart that we are not more willing to face ourselves.

Ahimsa, at first glance, seems like an easy thing. Yet, as we’ve seen, is perhaps the hardest of all spiritual practices that we could spend our life with, and perhaps the most important. I believe we can love ourselves and the world into a healed and whole vibration.

Ahimsa is a call to the inner battle that rages within each of us. If each of us would turn inward and face the war that wages within, instead of directing it outward- then we will truly change our reality. What about the way you speak to yourself? Is it a voice full of love, compassion and understanding? I can only speak from experience, but this has not been the case for me. Usually, our inner voice is the harshest. Can you imagine speaking to your dearest friend the same way you speak to yourself? Even the smallest negative thought towards ourselves can be wildly destructive and seed self-doubt, mistrust and disconnection from our truth. What are you telling yourself about who you are and what’s possible in your life? Our stories can either limit us or open us to our creative potential. Don Miguel Ruiz says, “We must learn to question our thoughts, especially those that limit the expression of our life force.” Though, somehow, it is so easy to look in the bathroom mirror and tear ourselves apart than it is to offer words of love and compassion. Once again, Ahimsa calls us to look at ourselves and our lives through the eyes of the Creator rather than our cultural conditioning, which so often is black and white. There is nothing black and white about us or our world. It is time to take off this filter and see with wider eyes full of wonder that hold space for the great mystery.

I watched the movie “Wonder” recently, a movie based on the book by R. J. Palacio. It’s a story about a young boy with a facial deformity and his entrance into public school after being homeschooled all his life. As you can imagine, he encountered many reactions to his appearance, most of which were heartbreakingly cruel. In tears after his first days at school, the boy, Auggie, asks his mom if it (how we look on the outside) will always matter. She gives him an anguished look and hugs him. In the end, the principal of the school implores the parents of a kid who’s been bullying Auggie all year, that we must learn to change how we see. In a culture that holds physical beauty as the most revered and hallowed thing, how can we change the way we see beauty, both in ourselves and in others? 

The golden rule applies here: treat others how you wish to be treated. This seemingly antiquated mantra, in fact still holds deep truth. Have you taken time recently to consider how you, yourself would like to be treated? It’s worth sitting with. Because if we take the time to get real with ourselves, the truth is, we want to be treated with care, compassion, patience and love. Is this how we meet others in the world? Is this how we dance through life, upon this beautiful living earth?

And what about how we treat our beloved Earth? We can’t forget Pachmama. This living, breathing earth that provides us with literally everything we need to live beautiful, fulfilling lives, is often taken for granted or forgotten completely. Again, we must remember that we are NOT separate from the Earth. We are part of her. We are the Earth’s children, just as much as the oceans and trees are. How can we engage with the Earth in a way that acknowledges her generosity? How can we be more mindful of what we consume and where we invest our money so that good people who care about the earth are supported to do their work. Consider researching farmers who are interested in the health of the soil, which is dangerously threatened. The health of humans depends on the health of the earth we live and breathe on. If our mother suffers, so do we. If she becomes sick, so will we (we’re seeing that now). There is no technology that can save us from this. We must invest in ways to restore the health of our earth. She is as alive as anything you see around you and she desperately needs us. Have you hugged a tree lately? Try it. You’ll be surprised how it connects you to your heart; it’s in opening our hearts that we open the doorway to healing ourselves and our planet through love.

These are big questions and considerations to sit with and deserve more than a mere pondering. Ahimsa could be the gateway to creating the world we all hope for. But hope is nothing if it is not acted upon. To make real change, we must do more than hope. We must intend and act accordingly.

A Story from the Linden Tree

I’ve been reading poems to the trees for over a week now. Donning my jacket and earmuffs and trolling out into the chilly morning air in my pajamas. Like all rituals, this is one that has nestled itself warmly in my heart and made an impact upon the quality of my presence and mind as I move through my day. Reading to the trees every morning has been easy enough. In the journey where I’d been guided to make such an offering to the trees, my guide said that any heart-centered offering would do, but the assignment- if you want to call it that- was to make daily offerings to the trees. My guide gave me suggestions like reading poems, singing songs, or adorning the trees with prayers and ribbons and strings.

When you learn to listen the right way, you will begin to hear them. The trees. The plants. The grass and the butterflies. They are all singing their own song. And if you open your heart and mind to them, they might even become your friend.

Last night, the trees informed me that tomorrow morning they would like a story. A story from my own imagination. I laughed, doubtful anything interesting would emerge, but I agreed, as you must in cases like these.

So, this morning I went out without a book. My scarf tucked tightly around my neck did little to keep out the bitter wind that had flown in during the night. Reveling in the cold, early morning light, I stood, rather than sat, on the edge of my garden as I often do to read. Two crows perched in a tree across the street, whom I saluted, taking solace in their presence. I cleared my throat and began without any idea what kind of story might unfold from my lips.

Once there was a girl, I said to the Linden tree. Once there was a girl with a deep sadness in her heart. A sadness so vast she could barely breathe some days. She wore a blue dress that stood out against her dark hair. This sadness felt as deep as the sea. It was there, she knew, because she could see and feel the depths of the world. In others, she saw what they stuffed down, she saw their fears, their shame, their despair. She also saw their light and how it was blocked in so many of them. She felt it was her responsibility to remove this shadow from the world and its people and took it upon herself to endeavor to do so. But in taking on such an insurmountable responsibility, she began to forget who she was. Her only purpose was to help others see their truth and their light as she so easily could. The weight of sadness pressed harder on her heart and mind as she felt her efforts to show people who they really were went unnoticed.

One day, while walking in the forest, feeling the well of sadness threatening to drown her and pin her to the bottom of the ocean, a women emerged through a golden streak of late afternoon sunlight. The woman was unnaturally tall, with auburn hair that fell in silky trusses down a robe that could have only been made from twinkling stars. Her pale eyes reflected that same starlight. Soundlessly, though the tails of her cloak traveled across the leaf strewn ground, she made her way to the girl in the blue dress.

“Child,” she said, lifting the little girl’s chin to catch the light of a soon to be setting sun, “your sadness was meant to be a gift.”

“It is a curse,” said the girl.

“Gifts often have two sides,” agreed the woman. “You’ve let this sadness cloud your way. It is a gift that you can feel and see as deeply into the heart of the world as you do, but it is blocking you from seeing into your own heart, which needs attention now.”

Tears streamed down my face as words poured from my mouth to the Linden tree, words that were coming from somewhere beyond me. One crow swooped from its perch into somewhere in the yard I couldn’t see. A moment later, its companion followed. Something was happening in this seemingly mundane morning. A blessing and healing were taking place. One I hadn’t expected. My voice shook as I continued to tell the Linden tree a story that was coming from a sacred place beyond my conscious mind. Perhaps, I thought, from the Linden tree herself.

The woman pulled an ornate silver box from the depths of her robes. “You will place your sadness in here,” she said.

“Where will it go?”

“To the sea.”

The little girl shook her head. “My sadness is too big. I don’t want it to damage the sea. I don’t want to burden anyone with it.”

“The sea cannot be burdened by your sadness. She is the sea, after all, and holds much more than sadness in her depths.”  

The little girl stepped back, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t,” she whispered.

In a silent stride, the women swept the little girl up in her cloak and drew into an embrace that softened the little girl’s mind. “This sadness has become your own shadow now, and that was never the intent. You must relinquish it if you are to see your way forward.”

“I don’t know the way forward,” the girl sobbed, coming undone now that she was in the safe embrace of the woman.

“Yes, that is the problem. You’ve become mired in service and forgotten how to live for yourself. Give your sadness to the sea and the way will clear.”

Trembling the little girl stood up taller and gazed at the woman, whose face glowed like the full moon in summer. “What if I lose who I am?” She whispered the words as though afraid the wrong person might hear.  

“That is a fear all humans have when asked to let go of something they have long held. Will I be the same? Of course, you will not be the same. But will you lose who you are? No. The idea here, child- the reason I came to you- is for the hope that you will find yourself.”

The little girl mouthed the words, find myself. She gazed into the ring of trees surrounding them, heavy golden light poured onto their trucks like honey and the girl wondered what it would feel like without the weight of this sadness.

“It won’t be gone,” said the woman. “Merely transformed.”

The girl nodded and the woman lifted the lid of the silver box, which the girl noticed was decorated with roses. “How do I put my sadness in there?” she asked, peering into the box that appeared to be filled with dewy tear drops.

“With your mind, dip down into where you feel the pool of sadness within yourself. Scoop it out with your hands and let it spill into the box.”  

It’s that easy? Thought the girl.

“It’s that easy,” said the woman.

The girls’ eyes widened at the response to her non-verbal question. And then inside her mind she could’ve sworn she heard a tinkling laugh and the words: are you really surprised?

The girl answered that she supposed she wasn’t. She closed her eyes to pull the sadness that had so long been resident within her that she wondered with still a thread of doubt and dread, what it would be like to have it gone. As the sadness came out of her, she held it for a moment in her hands before pouring it into the silver box. “It looks like tears,” she remarked, watching a mini ocean settle into the box.

“Tears you needn’t cry, for they are not yours. They never were, my love.”

“Can I go with you?” asked the girl to the woman.

“You have work to do here,” she replied, closing the box and tucking it back into the silver folds her robes. 

“I know. I meant, can I go with you to put my sadness in the sea?” 

“Oh. Why, yes. Yes, you may. Let us go now. Here, take my hand. Don’t mind the mist. We will be through it quickly enough. Close your eyes if you must.”

The girl did as she was told, choosing to close her eyes straight away. She felt nothing to suggest she was moving across a broad expanse of space, but when she opened her eyes, she was standing upon a craggy rock shore she had never seen before. Vast hills and grass lands surrounded her, and she had the strangest feeling like she was home. Something about the hum of the wind on the water stirred feelings of familiarity in her, though she could conjure no memories of this landscape.

Water lapped at the pebble shore and the woman helped the girl down from the higher rock to the water’s edge. “Would you like to do it?” she asked, passing the silver box engraved with roses to the girl.

The girl took the box and opened it, having the sense, once again, that it was tears- her tears- that filled the box.

“Are you ready?”

The girl nodded. With a gentleness that edged on reverence, she poured the contents of the box into the sea. It made barely a splash before uniting with the wide, vast water. As though it was never there, she thought. Who will I be without it?  

“Who you were born to be,” said the woman. She wrapped her long-fingered hands around the girl’s shoulders. “Who you are becoming.”

They stood side by side in silence, taking in the great breath of the sea. The wind coaxed the surface to dance in little white-capped waves and the girl sent a prayer to her sadness that was now part of something so huge her mind could barely comprehend. A deeper knowing told her she could trust all that the woman had told her. She still didn’t know who she would be without her sadness, but for the first time in a long time, she was eager to find out, eager to live life for herself. What that meant, she didn’t quite know yet. I am open, she whispered to the sea. I am open to possibility.  

Into the Night

I never know when the darkness will call. Always unexpected. It comes like the grim reaper. To take away a piece of me (a perception, an attachment, a shadow) that has long outlived its residence. I always resist at first. How could life take such a sudden turn, I wonder in anguish and resentment?  Just moments ago everything was fine. But was it? Of course, once I surrender and open my eyes to what is truly here, I see that, no, everything was not fine. I was sweeping things under the rug and hoping they would go away instead of fester. Would it all have turned out the same had I tended to them straight away or done things differently? Maybe and maybe not. We can never know. All we have is now and the single stone we stand upon in this moment. The choices we made with the knowledge and tools we had at the time. We cannot blame ourselves. Yet, we can listen.  Hopefully, next time, we will do better. And in the end, life is one great big lesson. We are ever learning and ever evolving. Nothing is black and white, failure or success, nor is anything static and certain. It is all so deeply nuanced, and we must remember this. Please remember this.

I had some major relationships fall to the fate of the grim reaper’s sickle in the month of September 2023. Each were unexpected and yet, looking back at the energies in play (and how I’d been feeling about each relationship respectively) it was not such a surprise. To have three major relationships stripped away within the space of one month had me on my knees, begging the Great Goddess Kali for mercy. “No more, please no more.” And yet, despite the pain and fear and grief, I knew I was being blessed. Blessed and realigned. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, these relationships were not healthy, and I saw no way to repair them. In each of them I had been betraying myself, crossing my own boundaries and not honoring my needs. It’s been hard and painful. And to have these relationships cleaned out in such an intense and dramatic way still has my head spinning. The farther I travel along this path, the more my mind is blown by how Spirit steps in to support me (never in the way I think- always better and far more inventive that anything I could’ve conjured).

I have been on a “spiritual path” for some time. It’s hard to say how long. When was my first initiation? Ten or eleven years ago… or was it twenty? I would say at age twenty-five/six is when I really dove into dissecting myself, my motives and took a good, hard look at my patterns- though, I will credit my younger self for always being inquisitive. At 25 I quit drinking alcohol, seeing the destructive loop that was preventing me from growing. I’ve quit many challenging things in my life before that- alcohol was the easiest. Bulimia and self-destructive thoughts were the hardest.

What I’ve learned about being on a spiritual path, is that it gets harder, not easier as you go along. I know! I’m sorry! I wish I could tell you otherwise. I wish I could tell you that it’s all sparkles and unicorns. The truth is, it’s a venture into the night. Into the darkness. Every year, I learn to befriend the unknown. Over and over, I am asked to do this. Lean into uncertainty and surrender everything I think I know.

Yoga has been my path for nearly seventeen years. Like all spiritual paths, yoga is a practice/process of unifying with the Divine, of uncovering and remembering our true selves. I’ve frequently come across the analogy of cleaning away the grime from a stained-glass window to uncover your true self. We are all Divine Light under the layers of our conditioned self, our likes and dislikes, our attachments, beliefs, biases, etc. Yoga (and every spiritual path) is a process of peeling away the layers that are not us. I’ve spoken and written about this countless times. However, it’s worth reinforcing here.  

Finding our true selves is not an adding on of more, but a stripping away to get us down to our core. Our bare essence. That’s where our magic is. At the center. In my experience, this stripping away is painful. Painful and liberating. Every time a layer is peeled away, a piece is taken (willingly surrendered or ripped from my hands while I scream), I feel freer, lighter, and more like myself. This path liberates. It does. But often, the process looks nothing like what we think or hope it will.

In 2015 I wrote a novel (it took me two solid years). Had I known as I lightheartedly frolicked my way into that venture what the process would entail, how it would strip me down to my bones and demand my focus and discipline in a way I’d never known, I likely wouldn’t have started writing that book. And so are the tests, trials, and initiations on a spiritual path. If I had known what sacrifices would be demanded, what treasures I would be asked to surrender, I would never have embarked upon this path. And yet, here I am. Freer and more in love with myself and this life than I knew was possible. Don’t get me wrong, it still has me shaking in boots some days. That black void of the Great Mystery eyeing me with her treacherous and unknowable gaze. Yet, I’ve felt the love in that intense blackness too. I’ve swam in her waters more than once now, and even though she terrifies me, I trust her.  

I’ve had some hard lessons lately. The part of me that wants to hold on, that doesn’t want to shed or change, screams in protest, and declares with indigence the injustice! The wiser part of me with the higher perspective can see exactly what the essence of these lessons are- and accepts them graciously, with gratitude. Because ultimately, I can see these “lessons” were answers to my prayers.

What am I trying to say in all this? That spirituality, healing, being on a spiritual path or awakening (whatever language you want to use for this journey you’re on), can- especially in its initial phases- seem like sparkles and rainbows. “Everything is working out for my highest good!” she shrieks with abandon! And it is. It’s just that what’s in your highest good is often a stripping away of a lot of shit that isn’t who you truly are-  a fuckload of identities, beliefs and energies you’ve picked up along the path of your life- often from trauma and other people’s ideas of who you should be. Spirit comes in and says, “That’s not you. Let me take it from you.” Because underneath it all is what you’ve been searching for. And in the taking, we feel like we’re dying. Because we are. Who you started as on this path is not who you will finish as. It’s a metamorphosis, an unveiling of the true light that you are- a light and brilliance beyond your wildest dreams. Who you are is so much more than you’ve ever been led to believe. The more you are open to letting go of old stories of yourself- especially the ones you believe with a firm and unyielding conviction- be open to letting those fall away like gossamer cloth in a gust of autumnal wind. Let it go. Let it go. Let it go.

Surrender is the answer. I’ve been saying it for years. Those of you who don’t like to let go will fight me tooth and nail. Asking why? How? For that, I have no answer. All I can say is, “Surrender and Trust.” Over and over again. Let the sweet nectar of life come to you. And at the same time, surrender to the sting of transformation. For surely you will find both upon this path.

Weaving the Lost Pieces of Ourselves

Last week I sent out a newsletter, where I shared a bit about my personal life. Some of you know what the past two years have held for me. And though I won’t go into explicit detail, I will share some of what I said in my newsletter in case you missed it. First, a side note (as I would do all Gemini’s a disservice without straying from the point before coming back!).

I have a challenging relationship with visibility. Most often, I don’t like to be seen. It feels much safer to be invisible, secretly tending the magical gardens of my own life in private. This comes in part from my up-bringing, which I’m sure many of you can relate to, of feeling like your unique energy and soul weren’t seen, nourished or fully understood. This is doubly true for me, being a Four Enneagram: The Individualist.

It felt safer to be unseen, yet- and again I’m sure you can relate- there was and is a deep ache to be seen and witnessed by the world for my unique magic and medicine. Social media is an interesting platform for these energies to play out. If you know me in real life, you know I connect on a heart level. I am invested in those I work with and offer yoga classes to. I have no problem opening up to people one on one. However, social media feels very different. Who’s seeing this? Do they know me? Will they understand what I’m saying? What will they think? 

It’s a challenge to communicate from my heart in the container of Instagram, though I try. And I see many people doing it successfully. Maybe it’s my Four nature, that I fundamentally feel misunderstood. Or perhaps it’s my neuro-divergence. Whatever the case, I’m exploring how to be more authentic and open-hearted on social platforms (while maintaining healthy boundaries, of course!).  

I’m a real person, living a real life with challenges, hardships, stress and worries just like everyone else. I’m working with my shadows and healing my wounds in and out of relationship with others. I am far from perfect. I see many qualities of those around me that I feel I do not possess and at times I feel envious (another shadow). I’m working to see my own value, something that has been a constant pain and darkness most of my life. My point in saying this, is that when we see someone’s website or social media it’s easy to forget that they are a real human with real problems. I never want to appear to be a perfect person. I do, however, want to demonstrate my value and skills to my audience, whoever that might be. I have a gift (I believe) for awakening people to their true nature, potential and power. This started through facilitating yoga and yoga trainings. Now, it’s shifting into working one on one with people and to hosting retreats. I believe in myself, and I believe in you. And because of my own personal healing path, of coming out of addiction, self-doubt and darkness, I know it’s possible to see and experience yourself in a new light. This is my prayer and intention for you.

So, back to that newsletter…

Here’s what I wrote: As some of you know, two years ago I separated from a partner I’d been with since I was nineteen. It was both liberating and heartbreaking, and it initiated a huge transition period that I’m still very much in. My whole adult life, I had the support of a partner, someone to hold my hand as I navigated the waters of life. When we broke up, it was like I lost the hand I’d relied so much on. There were times when I really didn’t think I could do it alone. Reflecting back on the wild, unpredictable and incredibly exciting and healing journey the last two years have been, I’m realizing that that breakup was one of the greatest gifts of my life. Largely because it showed me that I can do it on my own. (*A caveat: I’m not a hustler or someone who believes in hyper independence- especially amongst women- rather I believe we need each other, rich community and true support on all levels to thrive). With that said, being on my own has opened doors into myself I could not have imagined. These past two years, I’ve been saying YES to myself WAY MORE, saying yes to adventure, to healing, to taking risks and spending money on what fills up my soul. And you know what? It’s all paid off. I feel more alive and excited than I ever have in my life. More and more feels possible. And yeah, it’s hard some of the time, but I believe it’s hard because I’m growing, I’m confronting my shadows and pushing my edge (and life is just hard sometimes). I also want to add that I loved my partner of fifteen years deeply. He was and is a wonderful human being and I wish him the absolute best life has to offer. It wasn’t a dramatic breakup; we are still friends and care about each other. *I wanted to add that in because a breakup doesn’t have to be insane and dramatic, it can be a conscious uncoupling and separation with understanding.

It wasn’t until after we separated did I realize how much of myself I wasn’t allowing- how many of my needs weren’t met and how many of my desires I wasn’t holding space for. This happens in relationships- especially when you live together and have for a long time. We must compromise to co-habitat. Over time we can lose pieces of ourselves, threads come loose, and we forget to gather them back up and reweave them into the network of ourselves. Thus, we lose parts of ourselves. Some dreams fade because they don’t align with our partner’s. I could only see this outside of my relationship. The past two years have been a magical (and uncertain) time of dreaming and weaving the lost pieces of myself back together.

Life has never been harder than it has been the past two years. Supporting myself, visioning for a future by myself and wondering how the hell that’s going to come together. Then there’s the daily tasks involved in keeping life afloat and functioning. Feeding myself… I lost my chef with my partner and now I fend for myself. Cooking is not my strong suit, I prefer to dance in the ethers and never mind eating, the air and ideas will suffice. I’m doing all that alone now. So, yeah, it’s hard. AND I’ve never been happier in my life! I feel excited and full of optimism, and potential that I’m eager to reach!

I share this with you because once I didn’t feel excited or optimistic. I was happy enough, but I wasn’t on fire for life. I wasn’t in love with myself and who I was becoming. I am now! And I know it’s possible to rise from the muck and bloom like the lotus flower. I’m sure (and I hope) there will be many more journeys through the mud and many more bloomings like the one I’m in now. I offer a prayer if you feel stuck, bored and lost in your life. I felt this way for a long time (longer than I was willing to admit to myself). It took an enormous change to shake me out of it and though I don’t think that’s always what must happen to initiate change and growth, there is something to stepping or being pushed out of your comfort zone. So, I’ll leave you with this: what is your heart aching for? Travel, love, sex, creation? Let yourself feel your desire. Then, my dear, be brave enough to act.

 

What I’ve learned about letting go

Letting go is hard. So hard. And I wish it wasn’t. Often, I feel discouraged by how hard it is. Yet, I know that letting go is the gateway to newness.

In the past I have stayed with things longer than I should have because I was scared to let go. I knew I needed to move on, and still I held on, making up reasons that overroad my intuition.

I held on because I was afraid that nothing was ahead, that nothing would take its place and I would be lost and alone. What I’ve learned is that something always comes- and that it’s always a better fit, always what I needed but didn’t know I needed, always more nourishing than than the thing I was so determined to hold onto.

I’ve learned that Life doesn’t allow for holding on. Life is change. Constant change- as we all know, yet often fail to recognize when these changes ask us to let go of something that has long given us comfort, maybe even safety.

You can always trust your intuition to tell you when it’s time to move on from something. However, there will likely be a piece of your mind- of your old self- that doesn’t want to let go. Honor that piece of yourself. Talk to it, comfort it and lovingly tell it that to grow and prosper you must move forward, and sometimes when you move forward things must be left behind.

Trust that when you leap the net will appear. I come back to this over and over again when I’m asked to step from something familiar and sure to something unfamiliar and uncertain. Because the net always does appears.

When you dive off the cliff, you find your wings.

So don’t be afraid to leap. And don’t be afraid to let go. Life has you. You are held and so supported in your letting go. So let go and trust. A life beyond your greatest imagining is waiting on the other side of you letting go.

Where and with what do you need to let go?

Pisces season, Emotions, Cosmic Upgrades & Big Astrological Shifts

I’m posting this later than I’d hoped, as I speak of dates past in this post. However, just because I’m “late” in getting this up, I don’t want to throw it away. I believe this post still has value and can offer insight into this potent, healing month of March. I’ve been re-regulating and training my nervous system recently and as a result moving slower, honoring rest and honoring boundaries around my work and how much time I spend on the computer.

Here we are again: Pisces season (on the tail end now…). The grandmother of the water signs, and with Pisces comes deep emotions, heightened sensitivity, and a thinner veil to the spirit world. But because Pisces takes us to the spirit world through our feeling body, it can be an uncomfortable ride, one where we must surrender to our feelings, go deep into ourselves and be a witness to all that’s there.

I see this late wintertime and Pisces season (for us in the north) as an opportunity to harness the last window of winter’s yin magic. A time to go deeply and fully into ourselves. The last gales of winter wind, that ride upon the ice coated branches of trees awaiting their rebirth, call us to finish our inner wintering season of deep introspection. For soon it will be the time of rebirth. Winter’s final breath of darkness is upon us and it invites us to be quiet with ourselves just a little longer. I find winter to be the most intoxicating time of year for inner work, meditation and healing. The darkness wraps me in a cloak of nourishment, giving me all that I need to go deep within myself, to open my third eye, to see, to heal. If you live in the north, like I do, I invite you to take the last month or so of winter to go inward, rest and be quiet. For soon enough the light will return in full force and we will be called outside to plant seeds and frolic in the sun and warmth.

March is a big month astrologically. The biggest we’ve seen in a while. Before I go into detail about what’s coming, I want to wax poetic about Pisces season, the water element and being in the sea of emotions this sign has us swimming in. Pisces season enhances everything. It makes us extra sensitive- and for those already in that category, we need to slow down during this time of year. Slow down and surrender to the medicine of water, which is the medicine of deep feelings and the wisdom that lives in our emotions. You feel what you feel for a reason. It’s not an accident and it’s not hormones (I hear so many women say this). There is precious information in your feelings. Pisces season reminds us that we can trust this. We can trust our feelings and follow them, allow them to show us what needs attention- what needs healing.

I’ve dreamed of water the past three nights. Emotions and energies are surely stirring. Core wounds are being triggered and yet, I’m not triggered. For the first time I’m simply allowing and surrendering to all that arises with Pisces’ tides. All winter long I’ve been doing such beautiful inner work (maybe it’s paying off). So much love has emerged from sitting quietly with myself, breathing, meditating and reaching out to my plant allies (when I talk about plant allies I’m not talking about psychedelic plants, rather, it’s Mugwort, Calendula, Blue Vervain and Rose who speak to me of wisdom, healing and insight).

I know I often speak of potent times for inner work, shifting out of old patterns, rebirthing yourself and digging deep. This is a constant, ever unfolding path for me. Maybe it is for you too. I think all the time is ripe for this work. However, there are special windows- you might call it a portal- when the collective cosmic energy is supremely positioned to assist you in great internal shifts of consciousness. And one of those times is upon us now as March 2023 dawns. We begin this month with Chiron (teacher, healer, tender wounds) and Jupiter (wisdom, truth, abundance- the gift giver) conjunct in the sign of Aries. These two planetary bodies will be side by side for the entirety of March, with Venus adding her sparkly magic too. This is powerful healing energy! This conjunction will bring truth to the surface- truth about your core wounds- truth that liberates and facilitates deep healing, release and propels your forward on your path. As this energy is in the sign of Aries (self, determination, swiftness and fire) these revelations could come in quick bursts. The blasts of clarity you receive in March will spark a greater cycle of healing and wisdom that will support you throughout the year. So even if doesn’t feel profound or even grounded in the moment, this transit will initiate healing and movement in your life.

March is a month of new cycles. I know I speak of cycles often, as that is the nature of the earth and of our interiors, which of course, mirror this beautiful world.

On March 7th there’s a full moon in the sign of Virgo. This happens on the same day that Saturn (boundaries, structure, foundational/sustained change) moves from Aquarius into Pisces. This is a big deal. The last time Saturn changed signs was March of 2020… And though, because of other astrological factors, I don’t anticipate Saturn’s sign change to orchestrate such dramatic results, it’s still a big planet that we will all feel when it takes on a new energy. This is the beginning of a new cycle (for you personally and for the collective). Saturn builds. Saturn gives us the sustainable and necessary tools to bring something into being. Pisces is spirit, the transcendental, the boundless world of possibility, feeling, creativity, dreams and fantasy. Saturn in Pisces, among many things, will serve as a bridge to the higher frequencies of Pisces. In 1994, when I was seven years old, sitting in my first-grade classroom, I vividly remember looking around and thinking: “Whoa, I can’t believe I’m here again.” (Like, here on planet earth.) Saturn had just moved into Pisces. This energy can awaken deep spiritual memory and is a time when we are more connected to the spirit world and our own higher minds. The next three years is a time to commit to your spiritual path, where the potential to awaken dormant psychic gifts and touch the world or spirit is at an all-time high.

A full moon in Virgo is an invitation to surrender and though we are past the full moon, the healing energy resides within our heart. We are feeling the fullness of Pisces feelings and likely trying to take on all of life’s demands at the same time. This moon invites you to stop. Sometimes it can feel like you don’t have a choice- that you must do everything. The truth is, you don’t. Everything you are doing, you are choosing to do. You can take a day off. You can cancel those plans, skip class, put your homework (or whatever it is) off for a day. The more we operate in hyper-productivity, the more we reinforce a system that stresses and exhausts us. During this full moon, do less. Rest. Be quiet. Virgo can have us in our analytical mind, focused on details and tense as a result. Practices that calm and quiet the mind and body are supportive here. Uranus is involved in this moon as well, giving us a perspective shift- look at things in a new way. If you’ve been approaching the same problem/situation over and over, try something totally different. Uranus helps us to see things differently. Let this full moon illuminate a new, revelatory solution or way of doing things.

On March 24th Pluto begins its transition into the sign of Aquarius. For the next two-ish years Pluto will go back and forth between Capricorn and Aquarius, initiating a whole new era and helping us learn the final lessons of the past cycle of Pluto in Capricorn (the last fifteen years). Pluto is the underworld journey, the subconscious, power, destruction, transformation. And most importantly, Pluto does all this SLOWLY. Pluto transits can be intense, but they also unfold (to find their full manifestation and meaning) over a long period of time. With Pluto moving into Aquarius we’re being initiated into a new twenty year cycle! We likely won’t see immediate changes, rather a slow unfolding and transformation over the next twenty years. Of course if you have placements in Aquarius- especially early degrees (or placements in Leo, Scorpio or Taurus) you’ve been feeling Pluto’s presence growing for a while. With Pluto think of it both as a slow, steady collective shift in consciousness as well as a slow inner (personal) transformation. We are officially in the Age of Aquarius and Pluto’s ingress into this sign on the 24th of March 2023, initiates us into this new paradigm of consciousness. The victim and the savior mentality is falling away. The empowered individual is rising! With this comes the new truth that ALL YOU NEED IS WITHIN. The student/teacher paradigm is falling away. Go directly to source. Trust yourself, your intuition and what you receive from your spiritual practices. Stop looking outside yourself- this is Age of Pisces thinking and Pluto heralds us into the Age of Aquarius!

 Surrender to the month of March, it is an initiation of the the highest order and if you allow it, March 2023 will change you and raise your frequency in a way that has never happened before. I’m feeling it. Are you?

After the Equinox

I felt the Autumnal Equinox energy potently this past week. Returning from a nine-day road trip to California and over sixty hours roundtrip in the car, I feel new energy riding in upon the wind. This wind rustles leaves not quite ready to release from branches that still carry a hint of moisture and moss. I too feel myself holding onto the last breath of summer. Just a little, though. My grip is loosening. I am ready to let go. I am ready to open to a new season where the moon and darkness hold more weight than the sun and light. I feel a lightness in my heart as I surrender to the shortening days, the cooler weather, the call to draw inward to my kitchen. A sense that life wants to settle into something more stable and rooted as the darkness stretches out on either end of the day. A deepening exhale towards the winter Solstice. Where the summer felt like a constant burning fire, wild and deep with penetrating heat and humidity, autumn and the cool wind, crisp and dry, is a balm to my body and mind.

Change. I need it. A fresh canvas to paint the pictures of my soul upon. New ground, cold and dry, sprinkled with curling autumn leaves that I shall dance upon with bare feet that have endured so many steps recently.

My plants, one at a time, call me to bring them back inside, where for the last several months they’ve sat nestled in my garden among the mugwort, yarrow and chamomile that will soon wither and return to the earth.

As the autumnal winds ride across the golden wisps of tall summer grass, I feel the call to shed. I know I must. Like the trees that are now beginning to drop their leaves, so slowly, just one or two at a time, I feel my own soul preparing to release what is no longer aligned with the path I have chosen, the path I have prayed for. There is both a sadness and a rightness to this letting go. Like the leaves, I know it’s time and I mustn’t resist. For if I do resist, the wind will force me. So, I choose grace. I choose acceptance to what must be.  

What was serving me before, no longer does. What was, has served its purpose. Beautifully, deeply. And for that, I am so grateful. Yet, knowing it’s time to move on does not always make it easier. What is it we fear in letting go? The space between, I think. “Leap and the net will appear.” When we are asked to let go, rarely can we see what we are leaping towards. Usually, we only see the empty space between; where we are and where we will be. A liminal space, where we are suspended. With nothing to do but trust that the path that we cannot yet see will appear beneath our feet. Yet, it always does. Sometimes, just in time.

This is where I find myself as September closes and October opens. My life needs me to tend to different things now, and to heed this call I must let go of other things, like the children I’ve looked after for nearly two years. Children who taught more than I could ever express with words, who’s souls are rich and wise and wild and who have showed me how to be the same.  I’m also letting go of a romantic relationship that far outlived its expiration date, something that’s been long dead that I keep, painstakingly, trying to revive. I was afraid to let it go, for when I did, I knew the grief would come too, absolute and final this time- and thus so sharp and heartbreaking. These have been hard things to say goodbye to. They have been hard conversations to have. Yet, I had them. And I feel more peaceful because of it. Grief still sits in the cracks of my heart, but I feel more aligned on my path, closer to my purpose. There is a sweetness that comes with following your intuition, even when that means making hard decisions. My intuition has never led me astray, nor will it ever. Continually I learn to trust this, to listen to my body, which is intrinsically connected to my soul.

Loss and letting go has been a strong theme in my life for longer than a year. I continue to be called to the feet of this wise and challenging teacher. Surrender. I’ve had to let many things go recently. None of them have I wanted to release. All of them I knew I must. And in this space of loss the voice of Spirit whispers, “surrender and trust.” And so, I remember that life has always given me what I want. And more importantly, life has given me what I need. Life has responded to the deep yearnings of my soul. Desires and needs buried deep in my heart. We are held in the divine arms of Love. This intelligence responding to the call of our hearts. Trust it.

We know when it’s time for something to change. We are mirrors of nature and nothing in nature stays the same. The earth, the air, the sky and sea are ever changing. And so must we gracefully and willingly change too. To be like the earth and know when it is time to shift. Even if we don’t feel ready. Like nature, Life knows, our souls know the way to hold us in divine balance. May we listen to our intuition. An unyielding voice within, telling us how the winds of our life are changing and how to align ourselves in the direction that runs with this sacred wind.

Who You Really Are

I had a yoga teacher once who often said in his class, something along the lines of, “Yoga is to remember who you really are.”

To me, this is the foundation of yoga and what I strive to get my students to experience.

I’ve been trying to be more authentic. I bristle at the word authentic as it is so overused these days. But when it comes down to it, I am. I find it extremely difficult to “be authentic” on social media. I try, but I always feel like I’m wearing some kind of mask. Scared to be seen. As I’m writing this I’m realizing, I’m not so much scared to be seen- as much I’m scared not to be seen. Not in an egoic sense, bur rather a bone deep fear that my soul might not be fully expressed- that “I” (my ego? my trauma?) might hold me back from my fullest expression.

We do so much to make ourselves small. To fit into a culture that if we really slowed down to examine, would we want to be a part of? How much do we chip away, exile and shame ourselves because it feels safer to be small rather than in full the grandeur of our exquisite selves?

Is that what we want? Is that what we came here to do?

No. Of course, it isn’t.

But can you say that you fully know your true self? Have you taken the time to look? Recently, I thought I had. I thought I had a pretty good idea, only to realize there was a wall of cement between me and myself, me and my heart. So much gripping. So much fear. It felt almost impossible to let go and admit, “Maybe I don’t know myself at all. Maybe there’s so much more.”

Have you taken the time to ask yourself that lately? Have you given yourself space to just be. And listen?

If you think you’re anything less than amazing, then you don’t know who you really are.

I hope this post has sparked the sacred in your heart and makes it a little easier to listen to the voice of your soul.

This is essentially the heart of the ReWilding retreat I’m co-leading in November. For me this feels like the medicine that is needed right now. If you’re interested or would like more info let me know.

The Medicine of Mugwort

It was early March, late enough in the night that my mom’s living room was completely dark save the streetlights that glowed beyond the still frosty windows of a winter that seemed would never end. I was alone, save my mom’s dog I was watching for the week. It had been my nightly ritual since returning from Peru and the Ayahuasca retreat a month previous, to sit and meditate and heal all that the plant medicine had revealed to me. It was a warm ritual I had come to crave and find comfort in.

My intention in going to Peru for the plant medicine ceremonies had largely revolved around finding self-love and self-worth. The ceremonies themselves had not spoken to those themes directly. Rather, I was finding that the “integration” process so emphasized by the facilitators was where the real magic happened. I have always been a good listener, which I attribute to my Gemini placements in the 9th house. I’m not just talking about listening to other people, though I am good at that. I’m talking about listening to the nuanced whispers of the Universe, to the quiet sound of the soul and to all those nearly silent nudges we get from life that are mercifully encouraging us towards the path of our greatest evolutionary potential. As I sat in front of my mom’s electric fireplace that evening in March, that is what I was listening for.

I worked with the plant Mugwort that night. I took a few drops of a tincture I’d made from the abundant Artemisia Vulgaris in my friend’s garden the previous summer and sat down to connect with her. I often refer to plants as she though that’s not necessarily correct. Are plants gendered? However, when the spirit of Mugwort comes to me, it is very much a feminine archetype. In fact Mugwort is named after the goddess Artemis, mother of the moon.

Mugwort has been a plant ally of mine since the genesis of my journey on the plant path. The very first time I made herbal medicines was with my friend- the yogi and botanist I’ve mentioned in previous posts- in October 2019. That October night my friend gifted me a Mugwort tincture and told me it supported vivid dreaming, dream remembrance, ancestral connection and vision work. Later that week I took a “What Plant Spirit is Your Ally” quiz and got Mugwort. In the description it said that if you are gifted Mugwort this signals your initiation onto the plant path. Shivers ran through my whole body when I read that. I felt a deep soul call that I didn’t quite understand but I knew something important had happened. Two months later I put down a deposit for an herbal medicine apprenticeship and have since completed two eight-month herbal programs. And I now work for said herbal medicine teacher, taking care of her three incredible, wild and fiercely loving children. The plants had a plan for me I could never have dreamed of. All I had to do was lean in and follow the breadcrumbs of intuition.

Back to that frosty March evening in my mom’s living room in front of the fire. I called out to Mugwort. I reach out mentally and energetically for the plant spirit I wish to connect with. The plants also like songs, especially if you are just beginning your work with plant medicine and spirits, I have found that the plants respond fondly to offerings of song and music. Any song will do so long as it has resonance for you and is uttered from your lips. I think I sang to Mugwort that night, though I can’t recall all the details. I do remember that her response was immediate. Her spirit was strong. Potent. A heady energy swept through the room. She is ancient; that was clear. Her wisdom and medicine rich and deep. Power and grace breezed through the room and chills ran through my body as I opened to her presence. When meeting such a strong spirit, I feel intimidated, almost unworthy to be in their presence. When I feel this, I offer my heart and intention with humility, gratitude and reverence. I bowed at her feet, acknowledging that I am a gracious student, open to learn and receive whatever medicine and wisdom this being has to offer me.

Deep in my mediation, I asked Mugwort to show me the part of myself that loved me. Up until this point, I felt like the “part of me” that had been guiding my life was a part that didn’t love me fully, didn’t believe in me fully. And I couldn’t have that energy driving my life any longer. I needed to connect with the part of myself that had been exiled. Since returning from Peru, my meditations had been and continue to be incredibly visual. Mugwort took me into a room in a ship (the ship of my life/myself). The room was made of polished oak. A desk stood in the center, littered with paper and writing tools. Asleep on a padded bench near the back was a beautiful woman in a blue gown. I knew it was me. And the room with all its writing tools radiated such a resonance of truth- the truth of my own being, my soul. Mugwort told me I needed to wake the woman in the blue robe up. She was the part of me who loved and believed in me the most. A jolt of despair broke through me as I realized that the part of me who loved me was asleep and ignored.

When she woke, she told me that she’d been trapped in this room for a long time. I felt small and awed by her strength and beauty. Immediately, I knew she needed to be the one in charge. I told her that I would let her out of this room she’d been locked in for so long. I opened the door and we walked to the deck of the ship. A chill night and open air met us. The freshness of the sea swept through her dark hair, and she stood tall with open arms to embrace the freedom of finally being released from her exile at the bottom of the ship. I asked her what she needed from me. I said I wanted her to steer the ship of my life. She told me she would do this, but that I had to completely surrender all my power to her. That I was no longer allowed to wallow in self-pity and victimhood- and that if I did return such to mentalities she would go back down to her basement room and not return. I told her I would. She nodded and she took the steering wheel.

This is only one of many powerful meditations I’ve had with Mugwort. I take Mugwort elixir nearly daily, just a small dropper full, usually before bed, but sometimes as I feel called to take it during the day. The physical constituents of Mugwort are cooling, bitter and aromatic. It is safe to consume daily as a bitter tonic to support digestion. In addition, Mugwort has many magical properties and according to a reference in “Earthwise Herbal Vol. 1” by Matthew Wood, is “Called the oldest of plants, (yldost wyrta).”

I continue to have profound healing experiences with this plant and when I ask her how to repay her for all her support and wisdom, her answer continues to be: share my medicine with the world. And so, I offer you this personal medicine story of how Mugwort, Artemisia Vulgaris, helped me reclaim the part of myself who loves and believes in me.

I make and sell Mugwort tincture and elixir in 1 and 2oz bottles. If you are interested in purchasing Mugwort medicine from me, send me a message here. 1oz bottles are $15, 2oz bottles are $25 and shipping cost varies.  

Taurus Season, Eclipses, Dead Birds & Messages from the Gods

Three dead birds make an omen.

Finding a dead or injured animal may seem like an ominous omen. I assure you it’s not. Death is also a symbol of life, rebirth, new beginnings, and transition. To tie this more thoroughly into eclipse season, I’ll add the keywords endings, change, and shedding skin. 

We are deep into the heart of eclipse season. What does this mean and how are we to navigate these torrential cosmic waters? I’ll tell you in my usual long, rambling way.  

I’ve seen three dead birds in a week. I saw the first one on Easter while walking with my friend through the newly waking forest in Crosby Farm park. The first bird had beautiful blue iridescent wings. It was sad and a bit shocking to see it keeled over, dead on the ground. We lifted it onto a large piece of bark and made a burial space beneath a mossy tree trunk. 

We saw another dead bird a few days later while walking through our neighborhood, a woodpecker. Upon finding the second dead bird, I said, “These dead birds are an omen.” To which, my Capricorn friend said, “Or it might just be the avian flu.” I told her that was a really Capricorn thing to say. I insisted it was an omen from spirit. 

My contract with spirit is that if it’s an important omen or message, it will come in three. And sure enough, I found the third dead bird yesterday, while walking my mom’s dog. That’s three dead birds in a week. Avian flu…? Well, maybe there is some validity in that, but meaning can be multilayered. 

I’ve been feeling the eclipse energy building steadily over the past few days. The magic was potent and palpable this weekend (for me anyway). I feel permeable to ethereal energy and messages, which I always do, but it’s extra right now. Maybe you’re feeling a little extra too? 

The air is thick with old magic and celestial messengers. The eclipse energy is helping us to shed the last of our old skin (which ego will hold onto for as long as it can). Let it go. Let it go. Let it go. Can you feel your angels, spirit guides and plant allies doing everything in their power to help you in this rebirth?

These eclipses are a massive portal for change and renewal. We are coming into our beauty and goddess power (Taurus). Before we can do that, our shadow must become conscious (Scorpio). There is a dramatic contrast to these two energies of Taurus and Scorpio: simple beauty and dense shadow. (Of course, shadow is not all that Scorpio is, but that’s what it represents for this eclipse and the purposes of this post.) 

We are being called to explore our shadow energies. They’re likely emerging despite your efforts to keep them hidden. Lunar energy (especially eclipses) cause things to surface. Hold on as you might, your shadow is crawling into the light. It’s never pleasant to see. I can attest to that. The past four months have been concentrated shadow work for me and it’s been ugly and exhausting (I hope it’s almost over). 

As hard as it’s been to face the ugly truths about myself, it’s wildly liberating. I actually understand what liberation means (at least more than I did before). So, if liberation is the fruit of shadow work, why do we resist it? Our ego is dense, our neuropathways set, our minds made up that this is how I am. Spiritual work is the work of breaking through what we’ve build up and solidified in ourselves across a lifetime or lifetimes. You are unraveling energy that’s been bound up and calcified over generations. You’re not going to free yourself overnight. This path takes commitment, dedication and heartfelt effort. And I assure you it’s all worth it. 

Back to eclipse energy and dead birds. There are messages coming in from the invisible and celestial realms. What does it mean? Why are the gods talking, and what exactly is their message?

The dead birds tell me something. Any time spirit communicates with a potent omen, whether it’s a dead bird, an overpowering sensation in your heart or a series of events so inexplicable they must have celestial influence, there’s a message for you. These celestial messengers speak in symbols, soul sensations and impressions. Dead birds are part of spirit’s language. We must listen not just with our ears and minds, but with our souls. We must nurture and hone our intuition and open the ancient doors of perception that reside within our hearts. We must tune out the ego’s lament and learn to listen beyond the noise of the overculture that tells us what is unseen is unreal.

Cosmic energy and messages from the gods are pouring through the eclipse portal and celestial gates. What are you noticing? What do you feel in your soul? What do your instincts tell you?  

I’ve been crying a lot lately. More than usual. (It’s been a tough year. More on that than another time.) Many of those tears were in grief and hurt and loss. Lately my sobs have taken on a different tone. I don’t cry for what I’ve lost, rather I cry because I’m overcome with such profound soul-level sensation of change, shifting and possibility. A song rides upon these soul pulsations. Something is trying to reach me. I think it’s Life, expansiveness and possibility. Lately, it feels like the Universe is whispering into my heart, whispering change is coming, just hold on a little longer and you will see. 

The exact message from spirit is often difficult to translate into words, but I guarantee, if you listen with your heart, you’ll get the gist of it. And, it’s not really for us to know the details- those work themselves out with time- certainly, we’re not meant to know what exactly will happen. What fun would that be? Rather, spirit is inviting you to see something hidden in yourself and in your life- that’s why we feel such potentncy when these messages come to us. Our soul recognizes the language of spirit as it rides along the ether. On some level, we know what the message is.

Let’s come back to earth and leave the abstract symbolism of celestial messengers for a moment. I’m reading Steven Forrest’s book on the Earth element called “The Book of Earth.” As you’d expect, he writes in length on Taurus. He says wherever Taurus is in your birth chart is where you need to relax. Taurus is about simplicity, comfort and enjoying of life’s simple pleasures. As someone with a highly active- often existential- mind, that’s hard for me. I have Taurus (also the ruling planet of my Libra ascendant and thus my chart ruler) in my eighth house of psychology, depth and death… Forrest’s insight suggests that maybe life isn’t as complex as I’d like to think. Maybe the answers I’m so fervently seeking- the answers I believe to be vastly complex- are in fact, quite simple. And maybe the solution to your problem is simple too?

How do we nurture and participate in Taurus energy, which for the next year is also tied into the wild energy of eclipses? The Taurus North Node is the collective direction and the medicine here is simple. Literally, it’s simplicity. Simplify your life and mind. Get back to the basics. Slow down, breathe, love and take in the beauty of yourself and the world. Forrest uses the Zen proverb as an example here: eat when you’re hungry and sleep when you’re tired. Perhaps you are more attuned to this wisdom than I, but I have a remarkably hard time with both those things! The point is: feed yourself well during this eclipse season, not just with what you eat but in every way. This is the time to fill your cup. Love up on your body: nourish with salt baths, herbal body oiling, meditation, good food and rest. Read a book. Eat a cupcake. Enjoy the physical pleasures of being alive upon planet earth. Whatever you normally deny yourself (because it feels indulgent or unnecessary) let yourself have it during this eclipse portal. 

Ground yourself in the earth and get back to the basics. That’s one half of navigating this eclipse season. The other half brings us back to those seemingly ominous dead birds. I knew immediately upon seeing the first blue winged avian that it was an omen of change. Change can be ominous. What will it bring? Who will we become because of it? Only time can answer these questions. And so, we come back to Taurus. Taurus is earth energy. The earth is our mother, and she is a mother we can trust. The earth is solid and will always hold us. So, especially during the season of change (eclipses) we are reminded to trust the changes unfolding within us, whether grand or small. We are supported and encouraged to shed old skin that doesn’t fit- that feels too itchy to keep on any longer. Last month, I wrote a blog post titled, “Planting Seeds of the Heart,” where the dominant message was: be patient and trust. That is a good mantra for this eclipse season as well. 

 

P.S. 

Not all eclipse energy will manifest on the grand scale of deep soul work I’ve laid out above. In fact, this week and weekend, you’ll likely see the eclipse manifest in the mundane. I’ll give you a few examples. 

Sunday night, I told my coworker at the yoga studio that I was a bit tired (in fact, I was exhausted, but that’s not the point). She didn’t so much acknowledge my fatigue, but her eyes lit up and she looked at me and exclaimed, “You’re the right person to ask about this! I’ve had the craziest dreams the past few nights.” (This yoga teacher is a professional musician and performs regularly.) “I dreamed I was performing with Mariah Carrey and she came into the dressing room to inspect our outfits before the show. She was really critical! ‘No, you can’t wear pink with that.’” I couldn’t contain my laughter. “That’s the Taurus eclipse!” I said. Music, outfits… “Literally, Taurus.”

Back at the yoga studio at 5:30am today, the man who delivers our towels asked me if the elevator was turned off. “Not to my knowledge,” I told him. I went over with a key, but the moment I saw his furrowed brow staring at the lifeless elevator, I knew it was eclipse energy manifesting. That elevator wasn’t turning on today. Eclipses bring unpredictability and curve balls. Alas, he had to haul five massive bags of used towels down the stairs and bring up all the new ones (without an elevator) and he was visibly annoyed about it. Eclipses ask us to roll with the punches. Expect the unexpected. Shrug your shoulders and move on.

This eclipse could bring revelatory realizations, or it could manifest on the small scale of mundane life. It could be both!   

Chiron: Embracing Pain

The new moon in Aries this past weekend was a tender one for many people. Though this energy is behind us, I find that Spring, while it ushers in fire, growth and forward movement, often bears a touch of sadness, grief and tenderness.

March and April are the two hardest months of the year for me. I’ve heard from other northerners that they feel the same. In Minnesota, March and April carry only a whisper of Spring. Rarely does Spring come in full force, instead, winter holds on with resilient claws. I appreciate this dance, a reminder of the power of death and rebirth. It’s beautiful, unparalleled even. It also brings a strange wave of melancholy.

Sixteen years ago I experienced an emotional trauma that surfaces each Spring, which is part of why April -though Spring is finally gaining an upper hand- still feels raw and vulnerable for me. Every April I get whiffs of the experience: the incense that were burning, the smell of my best friend’s perfume and the images of events that unfolded over those several weeks in April when I gained a new life but lost an old one.

The new moon in Aries last Friday was conjunct Chiron. Chiron is an asteroid known as the wounded healer. Wherever Chiron sits in your birth chart indicates the nature of your deepest wounds. Only by going into these wounds can we heal them. It’s through embracing this tenderness and pain that we reclaim lost and hurt pieces of our soul. Chiron is a difficult and painful teacher. Tender is the word I like for Chiron. Whenever I read Chiron placements in someone’s birth chart, I immediately see the expression and energy of my client shift. I’ve touched something and it’s tender. Then, I either see them open to the vulnerability of Chiron or they shut down and I know to move on. You can’t force yourself into pain you’re not ready for. I’ve tried a forceful hand and it doesn’t work; it only agitates the wound and causes more closure.

The wisdom here is to recognize that there’s vital information in your pain, in that space you don’t want to look at. You likely don’t want to look at it because you’re afraid of that pain. Reasonably so. I recently read a post on social media, “The love you seek is at the center of the emotion you are trying to avoid.” We avoid our pain. Of course we do. To the inexperienced mind, pain is unproductive- it holds nothing but undesirable sensations, discomfort and… well, pain. But pain is simply a barrier to untapped potential, a barrier protecting our wound. However, if we can lovingly cross that barrier and feel into what it’s protecting, there is a level of healing to be found that defies all logic.

The thing you least want to face, is the thing that holds the answers you are seeking. On the other side of your pain is the wisdom, the growth and the revelations your soul has been craving.

Chiron activates our wounds and brings pain. Wherever this new moon landed in your chart- wherever Chiron currently sits, house and sign, indicates where you are currently experiencing this “wounding” energy. Note that wounding energy is the same as healing energy: there cannot be healing without a wound.  

For me, Chiron has been passing back and forth across the descendant angle of my birth chart for months now, pouring this “healing” energy into my 7th house of partnerships. Aries is a big part of my chart, being opposite my Libra ascendant and South Node. Chiron is revealing the wounds I’ve incurred from past relationships, particularly where I’ve given away my Aries autonomy and power. As I write this, Chiron currently hovers over my North Node in Aries, which activates my soul direction and reveals the wounds that hold me in unhealthy mental and emotional patterns, preventing me from stepping into my Aries power.

Where is Aries in your birth chart? What wound is Chiron currently activating? I’m offering a mini emailed reading specifically about Chiron in your birth chart. It’s $20 for a three paragraph write up, including reflection questions and advice on how to navigate your current Chiron transit. You can purchase it here.

Through your pain is the path to your greatest healing. I know it seems contrary to your natural instincts, which tell you to move away from pain. I can tell you from experience that your pain is a gift. It’s a secret entry point into the self-healing nature of your soul. When explored carefully and lovingly, this pain will lead you back to yourself and show you how to reclaim those lost and wounded pieces in exile.

Planting Seeds of the Heart

Be patient and trust. This has been my mantra for the past few months, one I received while communing with the plants in the Sacred Valley of Peru. It was given new meaning this past weekend on the Spring Equinox as sun and warm weather blessed the barren March land of Minnesota.  

I spent Saturday with my dear friend, who is a botanist and yogi. She hosts quarterly sadhanas at a local yoga studio to celebrate the turning of the wheel of the year. We got to talking about Spring and the fertile soil of this new season and the seeds we are invited to plant in the womb of the softening earth. My friend had a beautiful ritual planned for her students that involved speaking intentions into literal seeds, blessing them and chanting mantras to imbue auspicious energy for growth. This inspired me to consider what seeds of my heart I want to plant this season.

And so, I ask you the same: what do you want to see grow in yourself and in your life? What desires of your heart and spirit are eager to break free and take root?

Sometimes we are afraid to plant these seeds. What if they don’t grow? It can feel vulnerable to acknowledge a heart’s desire, let alone to put it out there, nestling these delicate seeds in the soil of possibility. To acknowledge a real chance for them to grow can feel almost dangerous- exposing them to the elements, to reality. It’s easier to keep those seeds tucked in our back pocket- kept safe as a dream, a silent wish. But it is only by planting them and exposing them to the elements that they have the chance to grow and one day bloom.

Be patient and trust that the magic of nature will support the growth of your seeds.

I’ll tell you a story about some seeds I planted last year. These are literal seeds, mind you, but I think you’ll find the theme comes full circle.

Last Spring was the second year of my garden (the first one I’ve had as an adult). I spent the early Spring months clearing out the old beds, and when the soil was soft enough, I dug out new beds, upturning sod, digging, and smoothing out a new home for my plants. It was laborious and I got my annual May sunburn. “The Sun is strong in May,” my dad always says, “You better wear sunscreen.” Of course, I didn’t wear sunscreen and paid for it with a painful red stripe across my back.

I was particularly proud of one of the beds I’d dug out. It curved in a lovely half-moon shape off the fence, and I’d placed large (heavy) rocks all around it that created a satisfying separation between the garden bed and the rest of the yard. I knew day lilies would come back in the center of the bed, tall and wild and orange. On one side of them I decided to plant bulbs- I think they were Irises, a gift from my mother. I knew I wanted something special on the other side. I thought of the packet of California Poppy seeds I had in my fridge. The instructions were simple: bury the seeds three inches in the soil in late Spring.

I’d never had much success growing or keeping seedlings alive; they were always frail and scraggily and never did well when I transferred them into their pots. One year I impressed myself by fostering baby tomato plants from seeds. Those tomato plants got huge that summer and my mom and I had a fruitful harvest. I felt hopeful as I plugged my California Poppy seeds into the newly dug garden bed. I tended them daily. I watered them, sang to them and whispered blessings for growth and nourishment.

Weeks passed and I saw nothing growing from the place I’d sowed these seeds. The day lilies were coming back, as I knew they would- reliable as ever- and the Irises started to poke out of the earth, unfurling their hearty leaves like a prostration to the Sun. But no sign of my poppies. The days got warmer and longer. Summer came. And so did the weeds. I tended my beds, watering constantly because of the unusual heat and drought. I pulled weeds (the beds were getting overrun) and it was hard to keep up. The whole yard seemed to be a mess of weeds (and not the good kind like creeping charlie and dandelion).

I went to the nursery with my mom one day and brought several boxes of plants home to fill in the empty spaces in my garden that had been revealed now that everything was growing. I looked disappointedly at the bare spot where I’d planted my poppies. There were weeds there. I frowned. It was already mid-June. With a sigh, I decided that my little seeds had failed (that I’d failed). I pulled the weeds, delicate mint green things that were actually quite sweet looking. In their place I planted Monarda (a wonderful, spicey pollinator). I walked away feeling somewhat defeated yet pleased that another plant friend would take the place of my lost poppies.  

Life happened. It happened hard that summer. There were many unexpected changes. I ended up moving and having to leave my precious garden behind (but that is a story for a different day). Much later in the summer, my friend-the yogi and botanist- told me to come by her garden to harvest California Poppy. I thought despondently of my failed seeds, but I was grateful I could still make medicine from this special plant. When I got to her house (my friend was out of town), I knelt beside the bed of poppies, their gentle yellow petals dancing in the slight summer breeze. My heart gave a jerk. Those delicate mint green leaves… almost sprite-like, floating above the ground…

What I’d thought were pesky weeds, had in fact been the beginnings of my poppies. I almost cried as looked down at my friend’s bed of blooming poppies. I sent out a silent prayer for the poppies I’d unknowingly destroyed. I’m sorry, I told them, I’m so sorry.

I hadn’t been patient enough with my seeds. I hadn’t trusted that they would grow. Instead, I’d let a trickle of doubt destroy them.

As we enter the season of Aries and witness the wheel of the year turn to new beginnings, warmth, fertile soil and growth, I ask you again, what seeds of your heart do you want to plant? And once you do plant them, be patient and trust that they will indeed grow.

Conversation with a Six-year-old

I had a conversation with a 6, almost 7-year-old year old today. I paused after reading a scene in a book, where the character is momentarily conflicted as she confronts a selfish desire. She learns a magic spell that will make her the most beautiful woman in the world. She wants this terribly (as any woman would). Through a magic premonition she sees that if she performs this spell, it will have catastrophic consequences; a war will break out between nations, people will die, much will be lost.  

I asked my 6, almost 7-year-old friend, what she would choose. At first, she said she would choose to do the spell. I looked at her hard and asked, “Really? Even if that choice caused a war?” It didn’t take her long to revoke her initial response, but she tried to negotiate, looking for a way in which she could have what she wanted without the consequences (as any of us would). I told her the consequences were assured. Sighing in resignation and annoyance, she leaned back on her pillow and told me she wouldn’t do the spell. I nodded approvingly and acknowledged that it was a hard choice.

This led to a conversation about morality. I asked if she knew how the right choice felt in her body and heart. At that point, her brother chimed in and said he could see it. They both agreed that when it came down to it, they just knew what the right thing to do was. I said, of course you do. We all do. That’s your soul speaking.   

This unexpected conversation about morality and the human conscience was flowing surprising well (being that she is six). So, I kept going. I asked what motivated her to make a moral choice, even if it meant sacrificing something she wanted. She told me a story that involved her friend and a stuffed animal that had been misplaced. I’ll spare you the details. Basically, it came down to the fact that it felt too bad to choose a selfish desire over what she knew was right.

We all face such moral dilemmas. As we get older, the stakes get higher. I’ll quote from Harry Potter now, “There will come a day when we must choose between what is right and what is easy.”

We got to talking about lies, though I’m not quite sure how we got there. I told her never to lie, even about something small, because the truth always comes out. We always get caught. Whether it’s in five minutes, five years or five lifetimes. The truth always comes out. She scrunched her nose and asked me, “How?” I shrugged and said, “That’s the magic of Truth. It can’t be suppressed. It just can’t. Eventually it will surface. Eventually the lie will be exposed.”

Nourishing Yin: Late Winter Ritual

Recently, I’ve sat at my desk, feeling the leanness of this late winter season. In Minnesota, mid to late February can feel as close to Spring as December does. Of course, this is not true. The days are getting longer and the sun stronger. Yet, it is still very cold. There are many weeks of bleak skies, freezing temps and crunchy snow yet before us.

By the end of February, we are well into the new year. And as I continue to set goals and dream about what I hope this year will hold, I feel a bit hopeless in this lean February time. There is not a great sense of abundance in late winter and my internal fires of ambition feel like dying embers rather than roaring flames (that I see on social media and every other external outlet of the world).

Instead, I feel called to slow down. Yes. Still.

I spent the first month of the new year in South America on a spiritual retreat. When I got home, I felt a need to get back to work. But it wasn’t a genuine desire fueled by passion, excitement and inspiration, rather it was out of desperation to start making money again. When I caught this I was disappointed and discouraged. Why did I feel the need to jump back into my life with full force when my intuition was telling me to take it easy? When I looked deeper, I discovered scarcity and fear. These are of course personal to me, but I think it’s common to feel this sense of scarcity during late-wintertime (even if you have a reliable stream of income). This was arguably the most dangerous time of year for our ancestors, and we carry those traumas in our bones. Late winter was when food stores were at their most meager, when the body was weakest from lack of sun and nutrition. And though in modern times we have access to abundant food during the winter, we are still deprived of the sun and our bodies are still weak from being inside, isolated and sedentary.

I have two points here (as any good Gemini would). One: it’s okay to not feel great right now. Two: it’s still winter; we’re still in the energy of Yin.

The Yin season is one of quiet, darkness and introversion. It’s the season where we are cradled in the arms of the Divine Mother and invited to the nutrient rich den of her womb. Here we become still, we listen, we wait. Often it can feel like nothing is happening, that we are waiting in darkness- waiting it out, whatever it is. In my experience, it is healing, rest and integrating life. Winter (Yin) is a spiritually rich time, one where I feel most connected to my intuition, psychic abilities and creative gifts. This energy is not bold. There’s no fire. Instead, it requires us to slow down- like really slow down- and get in touch with what is deep beneath the surface of our minds. The more you can slow down the more this energy will yield to you and the more you can use it for your own healing and spiritual growth.

Having lived in the north all my life, I’ve often wondered what it would be like to exist in a place with no winter. Yes, I realize everywhere has winter. But there is a difference to enduring deep northern winters with sub-zero temperatures, raging wind and snow and ice versus slightly cooler temps and shorter days. Northern winters do something to the spirit and the soul. I am sure of this. Most years, I feel like I’m just getting through it- especially at the end of February (when it feels like it will never end). But every Spring I am surprised and awed when I emerge into the light and warmth of May feeling like a caterpillar out of its cocoon, transformed into a butterfly. A spiritual transformation happens during the winter months. As with any transformation, you must allow it and be an active participant in its unfolding.

The entire winter season is about nourishing and tending our spiritual, mental and energetic roots- the roots that will support us when the energy shifts to Yang and we are ready to burst open and upward like bamboo shoots rocketing from the soil. Be patience dear one. This season is nourishing those unseen spaces within you. Your spirit is working behind the scenes to nourish and resolve what will support your growth later in the year. If you don’t feel the burning passion of forward movement, motivation and growth just yet, it’s okay. You’re not supposed to. Let the last drops of winter’s medicine seep in so that when the time comes to grow upward and outward your heart and spirit will be ready- you will have done your healing work and you will bloom with the full brilliance of your newfound wisdom.

Full Moon in Leo: Embracing Vulnerability and Soul Direction

The Full Moon in Leo is on February 16th 2022. You will feel this moon most especially if your Sun, Moon or Ascendant falls in the sign of Leo or Aquarius (especially if you’re at a later degree); the other two signs that will feel this moon most sharply are Taurus and Scorpio. However, even if you don’t have any planets in those signs, you could still feel this moon! There are many factors as to why certain moons hit us the way they do. If you’re feeling this lunation, see it as a blessing. It means there is healing energy trying to get to you.

There’s two parts to this full moon. There’s Leo and there’s the North and South node. First, I’ll talk about Leo.

Leo is a sign that needs to be seen. Leos have a way of making themselves the center of attention. Perhaps you’ve seen this in your Leo friends? They have the reputation for being dramatic, self-centered and attention seeking. However, that’s not all that Leo is about. Leo is ruled by the Sun and thus is associated with the King/Queen archetype. There is a natural regality to this sign. We all have all the zodiac signs within us. Each sign is like a piece of our core makeup; some signs are just more emphasized in us than others. Point being, we ALL have a Leo inside us that needs to be seen.

Leo’s need to-be-seenness comes from the place within that understands the importance of putting ourselves out there and singing our soul’s song to an audience that matters. Because it’s one thing to sing the song of your soul alone in your bedroom and quite another to sing it in front of a thousand people, especially if you genuinely care what those people think of you. For Leo, the audience matters. For Leo, the audience is everything. Being aligned with Leo means you have the courage to be vulnerable and put yourself out there for the world to see (and judge).

A Leo full moon can bring up emotions connected to how we are allowing or disallowing ourselves to be seen. This can be a confrontational and uncomfortable sensation to encounter within ourselves. However, allowing ourselves to be seen is essential. To show the world who you are is part of why you came here. Of course, each of us feel this to varying degrees. So, you must ask yourself, how important is it for you to be seen? Is it worth the risk of rejection? Is it worth the discomfort? For some, it might not be. Though, I’d bargain there’s something to be excavated beneath that resistance.

In my opinion (and experience), it’s better to put your whole, honest self out there (an act of true vulnerability) and be rejected than to not put yourself out there at all. Yes, rejection hurts. In the long run, though, it hurts more to never try and thus wonder how things might have turned out. In my opinion, it’s always better to know, because with that information we can then do something different. If we’re stuck wondering, we trap ourselves.

Even a full-blooded Leo with every air of being confident, still must face the raw vulnerability of putting him or herself out on the stage of life. Leo doesn’t have a magical power that makes him or her impervious to criticisms, rather, a Leo knows that the act of courage itself is where the real magic is. Whether you are rejected or embraced, it’s the single act of displaying your honest heart to the world or to another that is the real medicine of Leo.

On top of these general Leo full moon energies, we are also working with the nodes. This activates two things: our soul direction and the habits, beliefs and behaviors that prevent us from getting there.

The lunar themes manifest on the macro and microcosmic level, i.e. the collective and the individual. As a collective, humans (and our world/culture) are being pushed towards a higher expression- a more expanded, evolved expression. We are in the thick of this process as we move deeper into the Age of Aquarius. What this means for us as a world and for you as an individual, is that “the Universe” isn’t going to let you get away with what you used to do. In other words, we/you cannot continue to think, live, behave and exist in the same way you’ve done in the past. Change is being forced upon us with a cosmic sledgehammer and the consequences for not evolving and changing are getting steeper. The stakes are being raised.

Let’s bring this nodal conversation back to you. What are the energies of your north and south node? Each of us has a natal north and south node. These positions are always in opposite signs. The signs of your north and south node can provide a great deal of information for you. Here’s what these placements tell us. (Personal plug: if you don’t know your north/south node you can book a follow-up astrology session with me and we can deep dive together. Book your session here.)

Your south node is your past. It’s the behavioral trap you fall into (and not the good one). Whatever sign your south node is in shows you the emotional, energetic, mental and behavioral patterns you get stuck it. In short, your south node is your comfort zone (again, not the good one). As anyone who has striven to accomplish anything in life knows, success and growth come almost exclusively from getting out of your comfort zone. Which brings me to the north node.

Your north node is your future. You could also see it as your destiny. It’s where you need to go to grow the most. If your south node is your comfort zone, your north node is your discomfort zone. Many people I’ve read birth charts for, know this instinctively. There is a soul level calling towards your north node. Deep down, you know what you need to do. It’s doing it that’s hard. And sometimes it’s easier to ignore it and pretend everything is fine the way it is. After all, it’s easier to stay in what’s familiar. But over time, it will eat away at your spirit. You can’t ignore the cravings of your soul without consequences. The zodiac sign of your north node will give you clues into the energy you need to embrace for your deepest growth and soul evolution.

Because this Leo full moon is squaring the nodes, it could bring up those deep-rooted mental, emotional and energetic patterns that keep you locked in the past. If you keep doing what you’ve been doing, you’ll get what you’ve always gotten. This moon could be uncomfortable, as it will reveal these unhealthy patterns very clearly. However, it also offers an incredibly rare opportunity for us to shed some of this energetic baggage.

How to harness this full moon energy? Meditate.

Be still and feel as deeply into yourself as you can. Get beyond the noise of your mind and feel. Be open to seeing the energy and narratives that keep you locked in old patterns (and prevent you from moving forward). Feel into those tender corners of yourself. Sit for as long as you can. Hours if possible. And just observe your breath, body and energy. Don’t try to think your way through this. You can’t. Healing is happening on a deeper level than your mind. As you relax and open, messages and insights will come in. Trust it.

You cannot use your conscious mind to override these subconscious programs. You must learn to get beyond your mind to access these deeper patterns in your body and energy. Be receptive to what you discover. It’s not always comfortable. In fact, it can be frightening and devastating to see the beliefs you hold about yourself. The truth is confronting and often hard to swallow. (*See my post, “Truth as a Spiritual Force” for more on that). We need to meet these uncomfortable truths to heal. This brings me back to the courage of Leo. Only when we have the courage to face our truth (yes, the ugly ones) can we fully embrace the entirety of our being, and only then can we shine the light of our soul in true Leo fashion, radiant in self-love.

 

The Tear: Prologue pt. 1

This post is a piece of my fiction writing, a story I’ve been working on for a few years that I can’t seem to get off the ground. Initially I intended it to be a full length novel, however, I’m rethinking its form. This is part one of the prologue. I’ll continue to post installments as I write them. I hope you enjoy.

“What you’re doing is wrong, Ramael. You know it is.” Rhiannon brushed her silken skirts with her hands unconsciously. She was agitated. Agitated and concerned. More than she was willing to admit to her brother.

“It’s power, Rhiannon. Raw power. Don’t tell me you’ve never been tempted.” Her brother’s dark eyes flashed at her.

A chill ran down Rhiannon’s spine. She didn’t like what she saw there. Hunger and arrogance. Her concern deepened. Never in all her years had she seen her brother like this.

To say Rhiannon was old would be an understatement, though exactly how old she was, was very difficult to say. Time didn’t exist in the Otherworld and sometimes she felt as old as time itself. She was a guardian, a protector of the human world. It was her job (and Ramael’s too) to see that the humans were protected from forces beyond their awareness: the things they couldn’t see or possibly know- forces only beings like her were capable of navigating. She had been a guardian since the beginning. What Ramael suggested threatened everything.

What is he thinking? She asked herself. She could barely maintain her composure. “We don’t touch that power. It’s not for us. It’s not for anyone.” She met her brother’s gaze levelly.

Ramael let out a hiss and began pacing in front of the hearth. The fire was dying. Rhiannon thought she should add another log, but she was frozen in place. Her mind raced, running through possible tactics that might nudge her brother in a different direction. Or at least to his senses! She fought the urge to launch into a tirade. Ramael would not be receptive to an argument. Not only was what he suggested wrong, it was completely insane! Telling him that would only anger him. She pursed her lips and took a deep breath.

“Why your sudden interest, brother?” she asked.

Ramael stopped pacing and pressed his hand against the marble mantle. “Sudden? Who says this is sudden? We’ve all thought about it. Don’t tell me you haven’t, Rhiannon. We’ve been here too long not to be curious.”

“I never said I wasn’t curious,” Rhiannon snapped. “We are bound, Ramael. Bound to the weaves of creation. The very threads that hold these worlds together. To touch the Source would be to unravel reality itself. Besides, we cannot touch it even if we wanted to.”

Ramael’s eyes flashed again. “Are you sure about that?”

Rhiannon’s hand trembled where she realized she held the fabric of her dress. “Yes, I am sure.” Though her voice betrayed none of the doubt she felt, an icy stone of fear dropped into her stomach, sending chills through her whole body.

“Then there is nothing more to talk about.”

Silenced stretched between them. All Rhiannon could hear was the pulse of blood in her ear and the distant crackle of the fire. “I suppose there isn’t,” she said at last, letting her hands fall.

“Goodnight sister.” Ramael bowed his head to Rhiannon and left her chamber.

Rhiannon collapsed in a chair. Her dark amber hair fell over her shoulders in ripples that caught the firelight. She dropped her head into her hands. One of her headaches was coming on, a stabbing pain behind her eyes that made her feel sick to her stomach. She closed her eyes and breathed. He can’t. He can’t have tried to touch it. We are bound by the Creator. We are guardians. He can’t have. He just can’t have. She repeated these words to herself over and over, but with every repetition she believed them less.

Well, there was nothing she could do about it tonight. She would sleep. That always helped. She undressed and wrapped her simple linen robe around herself. Her reflection looked gaunt as she peered at herself in the mirror. She took a silver comb to her long hair and brushed it absentmindedly. I’m beginning to look as old as I feel, she thought, or perhaps it was the dying firelight casting shadows under her eyes.

From the outside Rhiannon appeared human, but she was far from it. She was a guardian. One chosen of the Light to look over and protect the human world. That was her job. She existed for nothing else. It was her magic that protected the humans, a magic as old and as potent as the Creator. Her world- the Otherworld- was magic, just as she was. It was a land invisible to humans, but a land that held within its ancient bones the magic that kept humans human. This world was incomprehensible to the human mind. No human could touch it.

Rhiannon set her comb down and continued to examine herself in the mirror. She felt a pang of emotion as she studied her face. She was not human, yet in a way she was. As a guardian of the human world, the Creator had imbued her with human blood. She could bear children; she had born children, children that had lived and died in the human world. The Creator’s intent to make it this way was so that she knew what it meant to be human and that she had a blood connection to the human world. Yes, she knew what it was to be human. She knew how precious humans were. She knew their pain, their joy. She knew how fragile and precious a human life was. As she laid down in her bed, she wondered if Ramael still knew that too.

Rhiannon’s headache persisted into the next day. She ignored it. There was no time to see the Wisdom Healer about herbs, however much they might help. No. She’d woken with a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Ramael. He’d decided something; she could feel it. He was her twin brother after all, and they had a psychic connection. She couldn’t quite read his mind, but she could sense his energy and right now she knew something was going on in that thick head of his.  After dressing and hastily plaiting her hair, she set off for the mountains.

The land rolled out in verdant emerald fields with a spattering of yellow and blue wildflowers that clung to the early morning mist. The light was the half-light of this world, not ever fully day or night as it was in the human world. Rhiannon had seen how the light was different there; not that she visited the human world very often. Strictly speaking, she wasn’t supposed to. Her place was here, in her world, but she had kin in the other world, and despite the rules, she snuck in to visit them occasionally. Does that make me like Ramael? She wondered. Defying the laws set of the Creator. The thought made her uneasy, but she pushed the feeling away. No, she decided. Checking up on her daughters in the human world was not the same thing. She wasn’t grabbing for power- a power that could destroy not only their world but the human world as well. What Ramael was doing was downright wrong. She, on the other hand had merely bent a rule and there were no dire consequences to her actions.

The feeling of uneasiness continued as she cut through the dense thicket at the mouth of the forest. Brambles tugged on her cloak. She cursed as the delicate fabric frayed in its sticky claws. Why hadn’t she donned her wool cloak? Because I was distracted, she thought angrily, examining the loose threads in her favorite silken cloak. It was a moss green material that shimmered when it caught the light just right and it set off the striking color of her hair. She loved that cloak and now it was ruined, thanks to Ramael.

The forest path was barely a path; it wove around massive oaks and nettle patches and Rhiannon had to watch her step for all the protruding roots and jagged rocks. Few ventured into these woods. It led to one place, a place few would choose to go. Rhiannon had almost forgotten that it was home to many wild creatures. For a moment, fear prickled through her. Not that anything in the woods could hurt her, let alone kill her. She laughed to herself- a musical sound somewhat dampened by the thick foliage all around her. Die, she mused. What a thought!

The dim half-light slanted through the foliage, a silvery, almost misty light. Dew clung to leaves and rocks on the ground and she was reminded of the forest her daughters lived in in the human world. Something rustled behind her. Rhiannon started, lost in thought about her human kin.

A tall, sleek, gray dog stood in the gooseberry patch. Its lips were curled back, teeth bared, and nostrils flared. Black eyes like pools of ink bored into her. Those eyes reminded her of the abyss. A devastating emptiness. Foreboding flooded her. Why should a creature unsettle me so? There’s nothing to fear, she told herself. The creatures here aren’t dangerous. It didn’t serve anything for them to be, couldn’t serve anything. There was nothing violent or evil in the world of the guardians, yet, staring into the dog’s eyes, Rhiannon felt an unsettling pang of intuition that told her otherwise. Her instinct was to back away. She remained still and looked the gray dog in its black eyes. “What do you want?” she asked it calmly.

The beast growled and took a step towards her. Ribbons of saliva flung through the air as it tossed its head wildly. Out of control, Rhiannon thought. Nothing in this world succumbed to such primal and beastly instincts: the creatures here were above such expressions. It was then that Rhiannon realized what had irked her about this creature’s eyes.

They were wrong.

Her heart felt as if it had been plunged into ice. “You are soulless,” she whispered. “The light of the Creator has fled you.”

She acted with pure primal instinct and reached for a potent protective magic. From her fingers, silver threads ripped through the air and wove around the beast. It howled. The threads expanded, some growing thick and bright, others thin and tight; they encircled the beast like a spider wrapping its pray in a cocoon. Soon the beast’s howls were muted. The threads of magic wove so tightly around the soulless dog that it looked like a silver orb and nothing more. You would never know upon looking at it that something evil were contained within. The magic she had used to contain the beast was divine and beautiful; it hung, suspended, like a brilliant moon. But what to do with it now? That question unsettled her almost as much as discovering a soulless creature in her world.

Truth as a Spiritual Force

With eclipse season upon us and the Gemini/Sagittarius axis in focus, I thought it a prudent time to go deeper into Truth (with a capital T) and how it’s a spiritual and healing force.

I’ve always been candid. Direct, some have called it. Rude even. I’m not one for beating around the bush or softening blows. Though, I will admit that this quality was more pronounced when I was younger. I’ve since become more diplomatic in the truths I choose to tell and to whom I tell them. Not everyone wants to hear the truth and I had to learn that the hard way. Though my relationship with how I offer Truth to others has changed, I’m still a fierce advocate and servant of it.

The Truth is always right. The Truth is. It just is. Choosing to ignore it or hide from it doesn’t make it change or go away. The Truth is waiting for us to see it. Always. I’ve never understood people who didn’t want to hear the Truth. Isn’t it better to know the Truth than to hide in the mist of illusion? Even if it’s shocking or painful, isn’t Truth better than lies, even if the lies are meant to protect us? Like all things, there are big Truths- cosmic and world Truths- and there are small truths (that perhaps don’t deserve a capital T). I’m an advocate for all Truth and I’ll tell you why.

The Truth is an immensely healing force that will always correct you to the path that is most in alignment with your highest good and with your soul. However, not everyone chooses to live life in connection to their soul. There’s even debate in the spiritual community that some individuals on earth don’t have an individuated soul and thus no true inner compass guiding them towards their evolution, but that’s another topic entirely. My point is that some people fear the Truth. They see it as a destabilizing force rather than a re-stabilizing one. I’ve never feared the Truth. That’s not to say I haven’t resisted it, denied it, or fought like hell to change it. I have. But as soon as I surrender to Truth, I always feel a deepening in my heart, a rightness and then peace. As with all self-study and spiritual work, there’s an element of depth required. You must be willing to go beyond what you think you know. Our ego, which likes to be safe and in control (an illusion), will, in trying to protect us, prevent us from seeing the Truth. The ego’s nature is protective, but there’s a fine line between being protected and being imprisoned.

Your heart and the Truth are intimately connected. Perhaps they are even one and the same. When we finally surrender to the Truth, we feel peace. Your heart knows what is right for you. It just does. It’s the magic of your spirit that you can sense this. But we don’t always trust it. We don’t always follow our hearts. Why?  

Like our intuition (another topic I plan to go deeper into), our hearts don’t follow logic. To follow your heart, you must trust in something greater, something invisible. You might call this Spirit, The Universe or God. Whatever you call it, it’s the greater perspective that sees beyond time and space. This force knows, and because it is inside us, we know too. We just don’t necessarily understand how or why we know. But we do know. Because the Truth is connected to our hearts, we feel the resonance of Truth when we hear it.

What is the Truth exactly? The Truth has as many faces as there are creatures upon this earth. Is there an absolute Truth to existence? Maybe. Probably. If there is, I don’t know what it is. What I do know is that Truth has a resonance. I can feel it. You can too. But if you’re living exclusively in the logical part of your brain, you might dismiss it. Most of us were raised to value logic and reason over intuition and spirituality. So, that’s another hurtle to connecting to the Truth: you have to be open to feeling it. Because the Truth can’t always be proven through facts and tangible evidence. Some Truths in this world can only be accessed through intuitive knowing. If you’re waiting for factual evidence for everything, you’ll be perpetually disappointed and you’ll imprison yourself in logic, which isn’t the whole picture. It’s like when a husband cheats on his wife. There’s a saying, ‘the wife always knows.’ She picks up on her husband’s energy and the subtle changes in his behavior and actions. Before she gets tangible proof (if she even does), she just knows. Because we have an inner Truth detector. We all do. It’s just a matter of how tuned in we are.

There are a few different ways the Truth registers within us. When the Truth hits us, we might get goosebumps, cry, feel a sensation deep in our chest or guts, or we might just know it’s true. You can strengthen this kind of intuition by paying closer to attention (to everything). Always notice how your body feels and responds to what you watch, read and interact with (humans, plants, animals, information, etc.).  

Sometimes the Truth feels beautiful and affirming. Other times it feels painful and world shattering. The Truth is potent and multifaceted. It comes to us in many forms. As a rainbow or a raging tempest, the Truth is like a mother, both fierce and gentle depending on what we need.  

There have been many times in my life, often while reading or listening to spiritual teachers that I have felt a strong resonance of Truth. Sometimes this Truth contradicts everything I thought I knew, and it conflicts with my current belief systems. Yet, still, I know it’s true. Sometimes the Truth is wildly affirming, like when I saw a psychic and she told me that I was persecuted and killed in a past life for expressing my beliefs (which, is why I feel so vulnerable sharing them in this life). Those kinds of Truths feel like a relief because somewhere deep down we already knew, but it didn’t make sense- we couldn’t articulate it, but when we hear it said aloud, we just know it’s real. Can I know with absolute certainty that what the psychic told me was true? No. There’s no tangible proof. But why is my own inner knowing and intuition not considered concrete? Because intuition isn’t considered credible, whereas logic is. However, I think that’s changing.

The Truth can be hard to accept, especially when it means we must change or face something painful, like ending a relationship. As humans, we like stability, certainty, and safety. Even if life isn’t perfect or even fulfilling, we’ll often choose to stay in places that feel safe rather than venture into lands unknown.  

Our spirits ache to be free, to fulfill their desire and their purpose. The spiritual force of Truth will aid our spirits in getting what they want. It’s only our mind and ego that hold us back. The Truth is always there under the surface. Itching. We can’t always identify the itch, or where it’s coming from, but deep down we know if we’re not in alignment with Truth. If we sit with ourselves (if we’re honest with ourselves) we know if our hearts are asking for something more.

But it’s scary to take that step, to admit that our hearts yearn for something more than what we’re curently brave enough to move towards. For many people, it’s easier to ignore that itch and stay in a life that although comfortable, is not fulfilling. It takes real courage to follow your heart and thus the Truth. Because following your heart means something must change. Surrendering to Truth means admitting that you were living in the dim half-light of unconsciousness; it means admitting you have been lying to yourself, however innocently. It’s okay to be in that space. I have been, many times. It’s never too late to admit you’ve been unhappy or unfulfilled. But if you feel that itch of disconnection- where you’ve been suppressing the voice of your heart- it’s time to give yourself the gift of Truth and recognize that it’s time to face it and make the changes.

The Truth isn’t harsh in nature. We perceive it to be harsh because it’s a corrective force, meaning that when it comes, it forces us to confront pieces of our unconscious- pieces in shadow. This is healing, my friends. This is spiritual work. Most people resist it because it’s uncomfortable. The Truth can make us face what we’d rather not see. But just because we can’t see these parts of ourselves hardly means they don’t exist. (And if we don’t face them, they’ll come out in weird ways in an attempt to get our attention).  

There can be an element of shame and embarrassment that comes with being hit by Truth. Truth can shatter our reality and leave us feeling blind. What we thought we knew isn’t true, and that can be devastating. Truth can shatters our reality; sometimes in a small way, but sometimes our whole world falls apart. If you walk the spiritual path, rest assured that this world-shattering will happen to you, probably many times over. It’s nothing to fear, rather it’s bringing you into deeper alignment with the Universe and with your heart. Be open to it. Practice non-attachment and don’t hold onto anything too tightly. Always leave a little room to be humbled and/or corrected. As humans, we don’t know everything and to pretend we do will only impede our path.

Surrender. Let the Truth destroy your delusions so that you can be corrected onto the path that is alignment with your heart. When the Truth comes, it means we’re ready for it, ready to take a step in a new direction and that is healing to the soul.  

Eclipse Season, Mercury Retrograde & The Gemini/Sagittarius Axis

Before I knew much about astrology, I heard whispers across the internet about eclipse season. It’s meaning eluded me for years. The first time an eclipse fully registered on my radar was in 2017.

It was August, Leo season, just after my partner’s birthday. A total solar eclipse visible to me in Minnesota. It was a hot sunny day. I was wearing overalls with a sleeveless shirt underneath. My partner and I took our favorite walk down to the river. The energy was electric. Palpable. And a little surreal. I remember feeling a pulse, like something celestial was shifting or radiating around us. Lots of people were out, looking at the sky. Everyone seemed to know something special was happening. We saw people wearing tinted eclipse glasses and somehow, we managed to snag a pair. We traded them back and forth watching the moon slowly move in front of the Sun.

I wish I could remember more of what I was working through in my personal life at that time. It hadn’t been an easy summer, I know that. There was tension between my partner and myself; we were at the beginning of a long healing cycle- one that would go on for years. That summer was heavy, but I remember the day of the eclipse feeling light and easy. Maybe the eclipse was “eclipsing” some of our pain. This eclipse was on the Leo new moon. Leo is heart energy and I believe that this particular eclipse season offered us some much needed heart healing. 

Astrology offers us structure, touch points in which we can shape our inner work and personal reflections. Following the lunar cycle gives us a monthly structure in which to check in with ourselves. Eclipse season is a similar, though longer cycle. Like a new or full moon, eclipse season reminds us to pause and check in with ourselves.   

Eclipses can bring up a lot of different energies, often unexpected. Eclipses are known for opening and closing doors. They bring the energy of change. As human’s we often resist change. I certainly do. Eclipse energy is unpredictable and therefore a little unnerving, like we don’t know what might happen. But that’s a good thing. Sometimes we need an external force to help jump start something in our life. We need an impetus to push us out of the status quo. Eclipses can do that. Whatever changes happen during eclipse season you can be sure that it’s aligned with your highest good. The Universe has your back.

Does this mean that something profound will shift in your life in the next six weeks? Not necessarily. Then again, maybe. It depends on where you are and what you need. Astrology is a great tool, but it’s just that: a tool.  The most important thing in any spiritual practice is to be aware. Eclipse season can help you move what needs to be moved in your life. It’s a powerful portal for shifting your foundation. This eclipse season is happening on the Gemini/Sagittarius axis, bringing the focus to the information we gather and hold, our beliefs and finding the truth. Every eclipse season pours transformational energy into our lives. What zodiacal axis it falls on determines where the focus will be. Mercury will be retrograde during our eclipse season as well. This means slow down, especially when it comes to communication. Be intentional about what you say and express. Be on the lookout for truth and take quality over quantity, both in terms of consuming and disseminating information.

The term “eclipse season” refers to the time of year that eclipses happen (some people consider it a month before and after the eclipses occur, personally, I see it as a shorter window of about six weeks). This year the eclipses are happening on the Gemini/Sagittarius axis. Eclipses always happen in twos. We’ll have our first lunar eclipse on May 26th, followed by a solar eclipse on June 10th. So, “eclipse season” roughly takes place throughout Gemini season or mid May through the end of June.

In case you were wondering: Solar eclipses occur during a new moon, while lunar eclipses occur during a full moon. “Solar eclipses result from the Moon blocking the Sun relative to the Earth; thus Earth, Moon and Sun all lie on a line. Lunar eclipses work the same way in a different order: Moon, Earth and Sun all on a line. In this case the Earth's shadow hides the Moon from view.” -stardate.org

The zodiacal axis which the eclipses take place on (i.e. Gemini/Sagittarius) is determined by the lunar nodes. The North Node and the South Node. These nodes always oppose each other, meaning they are in opposite zodiac signs. The nodes shift zodiac signs every 18 months. Wherever the nodes are is where eclipses will happen.

The energy or significance of an eclipse is a bit like a portal or gateway for change and transformation. Except “eclipse season” to offer deep insight, healing and unexpected change. During “eclipse season” you may notice people leave your life or opportunities you thought were moving forward to fall away, but not to worry, eclipses bring new beginnings. If something falls away, be sure that something new and more aligned will take its place.

Let’s look a little closer at the Gemini/Sagittarius axis. Every zodiac sign has what I call a “sister sign” or an opposite. Gemini and Sagittarius are sister signs. They complement each other, like colors, red and green, blue and yellow. The first six signs of the zodiac are the “younger” energies (Aries-Virgo). The last six signs are more mature energies (Libra-Pisces). Gemini is the younger version of Sagittarius. Gemini is connected to the mind and imagination. It’s a very creative, playful and cerebral sign. Gemini loves information. Gemini represents the lower mind, where Sagittarius represents the higher mind. Gemini is all about gathering information. The problem with Gemini, it’s youth perse, is that it hasn’t sorted through its findings; this is where Gemini gets its reputation for gossip and shallowness and spreading information that isn’t necessarily true. With the North Node of the Moon in Gemini in the last thirteen months, we can see how across all cultures the desire for information as intensified. Everyone seems to have an abundance of information. But have we found the truth in this information or is it just information for information sake? Gemini’s opposite sign, Sagittarius, is the holder of wisdom and truth. If Gemini gathers the information, Sagittarius pulls the truth and meaning from it. Sagittarius is the philosopher and the student, always searching for truth. With the Moon’s Nodes on this axis, we are called to gather information and find the truth within it all. This will continue to be a theme for the next five months until the Nodes shift to the Taurus/Scorpio axis on January 19th 2022.

What does the Gemini/Sagittarius eclipse axis mean for you? It means that truth will come out. This could take place in the most mundane areas of your life or it could be profound truths that surface. Truth is the name of the game this eclipse season. Be open to it. I know the truth isn’t always comfortable or even desirable. But it’s important. I could go on a tangent here, but I’ll restrain myself. What I’ll say is this: Truth, no matter how painful or ugly, is always healing. So, be open to it. Use it. Heal from it.

Another important cycle taking place this eclipse season is Mercury retrograde. Mercury will be retrograde in Gemini from May 29-June 21st, going direct on June 22nd.

When a planet is retrograde (like Mercury in this case), it appears to be moving backwards in the sky. The planet is not actually moving backwards; it’s an optical illusion, a bit like when you’re stopped at a stop light and a car flies by you- for a moment it feels like you’re moving backward.

All planets except for the Sun and Moon have retrograde periods. The ones that affect us the most are the inner planets: Mercury, Venus and Mars (also known as the personal planets, meaning they affect our personal lives more than the outer planets of Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto). Mercury goes retrograde about three times a year. A cycle.

Mercury is connected to mind and communication. Retrograde in the sign of Gemini, which Mercury rules, brings an even sharper focus to communication. So, slow down. Double check your emails and texts before you send. Be extra intentional about what you say. This Mercury retrograde is a great time to practice listening. Give yourself time to receive and process information before you respond to it.

Mercury retrograde is also a great time to do all the “re” things. Review, reflect, reconsider, rest, reassess. Some astrologers will tell you not to start anything new during Mercury retrograde or not to sign contracts. I don’t totally agree with that. But do take extra time to consider what you’re signing up for and during eclipse season, don’t be surprised if plans change unexpectedly; if they do, trust that it’s all for your highest good.

Here are a few takeaways for eclipse season and Mercury retrograde:

1.     Take time for reflection. Either journal or simply sit. Give yourself extra time to process and digest life.

2.     Slow down and don’t worry if things are taking longer than expected. The Universe has its own timeline. Trust and let go.

3.     Be flexible. There is a lot of mutable energy with Gemini and Sagittarius. So, go with the flow. Evolve and shift with life’s cues.

4.     Take some time in June to check in with yourself, your life trajectory, and your goals. Reevaluate if you need to.

5.     Do a daily meditation and intention practice to be connected to truth. Open yourself up to truth. Set the intention to see it and heal from it.

6.     Most importantly: pay attention. The Universe speaks to us in signs, symbols and synchronicities. As in “The Alchemist,” watch for the Omens.

Taurus Season: Remembering Our Innate Worth

Taurus and the second house represents our stability (financial and home-life), security and value (both what we value and how we see our own value). As an earth sign ruled by the planet and the goddess Venus, Taurus is a very feminine energy. Not that the bull (the symbol of Taurus) isn’t fierce. It is. And the fixed quality provides traction for us to drive forward in our work and goals. Personally, my airy, un-grounded nature loves the structured, steadfast earth element.

Before I get into what I really want to talk about, which is self-worth, I want to talk astrology and put this concept in the context of my personal chart. Taurus and Venus are important for me because I have a significant Venus placement: Venus in Taurus in the 8th house directly opposing Pluto in Scorpio in the 2nd house. Venus is happy in a sign she rules and being in the 8th house of her opposing sign Scorpio, gives me a strong fascination and love for the deep, raw and mysterious. However, with Venus and Pluto in opposition there’s inherent tension. I often feel torn between luxuriating in the soft, cozy comfort of Taurus (a sign known to love beautiful material goods, sensuous experiences, and home comforts) and the desire to go deep into myself and the world (Scorpio). It gets more complicated because Pluto in my 2nd house creates a destabilizing force around my personal sense of security and value. Basically, there’s a deep karmic wound in my second house self-worth and personal finances.

Pluto represents a challenge in whatever house (life area) it’s placed in. Pluto is a difficult hurtle. One that can feel insurmountable. Impossible. I’ve found this to be true for me regarding self-worth and self-value. I do not feel innately valuable in anything I do. I’m not saying this to complain or play victim, rather I see it as part of my karmic wounding or soul work I need to address in this life.

I’ll give you an example of this Pluto wounding in my 2nd house. When I first started working jobs, I accepted very little compensation. I remember babysitting for a family friend and getting paid $2 an hour. This child was not low maintenance. I remember feeling insulted by the paltry compensation but said nothing. This inability to advocate for myself and demand fair compensation for my time and skills followed me into adulthood. For years I accepted much less than I was worth. I worked tirelessly to prove myself but when it came time to advocate for a raise, I shrunk away. Instead of coming up with reasons why I was valuable, I could only think of reasons why I wasn’t.

I made up a lot of reasons why I didn’t deserve more. This mentality permeated all areas of my life, not just my finances. I had many dark years of drug addiction and mental illness that simultaneously resulted from and exacerbated my feeling of worthlessness.

Like most of us immersed in western culture, I learned to equate my self-worth with doing and having. Before I move on, a caveat: it is important to work hard and prove your worth by being disciplined, focused, and dedicated to evolving your skills (in whatever field you’re in). Saturn anyone? The entitled, lazy individual is not attractive. There’s a sense of pride and strength that comes from working hard for something, not to mention we develop and learn by working hard. However, I believe as a culture we see our external achievements directly equating our value as a human being. This is a masculine way of looking at value that doesn’t consider the value of simply being. 

Our culture promotes and values progress, production, and glamor. The Divine Masculine has been blown out, and as a result striped of its divinity. From a young age we are bombarded with images of external beauty and perfection, told to DO, produce, and stay busy. We’re told this is what makes us valuable members of society. We get so lost in the onslaught of media and advertisements that we forget that we are innately valuable without any adornments.  

As a culture, have we forgotten that we are worth something innately?

As a yoga teacher and practitioner, I’ve put a lot of energy into understanding ego. It’s an enormous topic, one I plan to write more about on this blog in the future. For now, I’ll be as brief as I can and look at how our ego prevents us from feeling our true worth and value.

The ego has two sides. The ego is the voice that says, “I’m so awesome. Look at what I’ve accomplished. Look what I can do,” and the voice that says, “I’m terrible. I can’t do anything. I’m so bad at this.” This is the same entity, two sides of the same coin. A healthy ego isn’t about balancing these two sides, but rather being aware of these voices and narratives. Being constantly aware of your ego requires an immense amount of spiritual work. If you think your ego doesn’t have the upper hand, you can be sure that it does. Those who have their ego in check are aware of it constantly trying to take the reins. The key is to recognize what your ego is and how it inhibits your spiritual and emotional growth, and become the master of it.

Our ego gets in the way of our soul voice. Your soul voice is that deep inner essence; it’s the part of yourself you feel connected to when you’re totally in the moment. It feels warm. The most common time we experience this soul voice is when we’re with someone we love, in nature or meditating. The many facets of our ego prevent us from feeling this soul voice, this warmth within us. The ego is like a wall that’s very difficult to penetrate.

Our sense of self-worth and value becomes compromised because our ego is linked to our identity (Aries). Our identity (especially in our western culture) is built on external factors: what we look like, what we do, what we like, what we don’t like and how skilled we are to name a few. Our egos have been conditioned to want external validation and it seeks it based on the things it’s identified with. In the modernization of our world, spiritual truths (ways of living in direct connection with our soul voice and spirit) have been lost. We’ve forgotten how to exist as a human being without these external factors. When we sit with ourselves- our true selves, just as we are- we touch our inner essence. We connect to our soul voice. This part of us needs nothing from the outside to be satisfied or validated. Deep down this innate sense of value exists in each of us. We just need to remember it.

There’s a quote from yoga teacher Bernie Clarke that I repeat in my classes often: “We don’t use our body to get into the yoga pose; we use the yoga pose to get into our body.” In other words, it’s not about what the pose looks like from the outside (or in the mirror), but how it feels on the inside; it’s about what the pose is yoking within you.

It’s not about how you look or what you can do that determines your value. It’s simply what you are innately. Yoga helps us remember who and what we truly are. The pure essence of your soul. If you wipe away accolades, possessions, and status you are left with yourself, your real, pure self. Now, tell me, what is that worth?