This year’s Winter Solstice will be unlike any other. Preparation for the long dark night will continue as tradition foretells, but this dark night comes with added weight.
I'm playing with daily practice to find a way that fulfills me, and trying to release the idea that I should be doing it to be valid or uber-spiritual or whatever. I'm feeling into the shifting energies of the natural world again.
Drink this snake oil, and you will be fixed/enlightened/saved. Take this workshop, and you will be feminine enough to catch an awakened man.
Thou shalt honor the wolf within, for the dark Primal Feminine is hungriest on these days. Let us leave this place now and run through the forest wailing like mischievous banshees. The ghosts will not judge us if we get on all fours and unleash enraged howls at those who have wronged us, so let ...
She can accept the ugly shadows as parts of her but not this cosmic blessing kneeling before her. Still, she does as she is told, nourishing herself with the Shadow of Divinity; she tastes like sacred nectar and ceremonial chocolate. She tastes like holy water and the body of the Magdalene.
I don’t know who started the chant, but soon there were millions of voices crying out into the night, "We are taking back our children, and we are rising! We are rising! We are rising!" The clouds started parting, and when we saw the moon, we knew we were fulfilling a sort of planetary destiny.
And this, my love, this is the hearty bread of fem-fire; it has been baked in the blazes of our funeral pyres, smoked in the houses they burned, and seasoned with the ashes of the holy healers burned at the stake. This is the taste of righteous rage. Don’t eat this before bed, or you will not ...
I cannot connect with the idea of a calling that can be translated perfectly into a paycheck, a position, or a fixed identity associated with something I do. If I have one, my vocation is to be alive, to listen quite literally to my body and its rhythms: Every. Single. Moment. And to honor and ...