Conversations by the Fire

so… here i am. at the very edge of the snake year. I can feel it in my chest - that quiet pressure, like weather gathering behind the ribs. a threshold day. tomorrow the hinge turns. dark moon. eclipse. and the fire horse at the gate, breath warm, hooves restless against the earth. and i can feel her. of course i can. sagittarian heart. earth horse bones. there is something in me that wants to greet her already - to toss my head, to feel the heat rise, to move. but today belo

Halfway through a Womb Surround, a circle of eight women, and my heart is quietly full. Laughter spilling out where words once couldn’t. Tears finding permission. Stillness that says more than anything spoken. Long, poignant silences and the gentle joy of unfurling. I’m in awe of the beauty this work brings... the ripples it sends outward, seen and unseen. Life moves through us like a river: marking us, shaping us, carving us open. We are born this way... initiated into life

The hammer rests by the forge today. The shoulders drop an inch, then two. It is the sound of the pottering, the tea, the quiet home that says: the nectar is already here.   A seed is not a worker. It does not strain to be a flower - it simply unfolds because the soil is warm.   I give the ache to the flame - the tightness in the jaw, the lie of the lone wolf, the old story of the arid ground   I leave it for Brigid to turn into ash. And in the space that remains… there is La

Sisters… of the heart, of the blood, of the ancient remembering. We come as we are unyielded, unpolished, unmasked carrying our laughter like lanterns, our tears like the salt of the sea that shaped us all. There is no striving here. No need to tuck away the trembling part, the doubting part, the part that still believes she must earn her place. Here , every part is welcomed, every part belongs. We enter the circle like stepping into warm earth: barefoot, slow, letting the a

This morning I woke with an ache in my chest, a widening in my heart, and a hush in my bones. What a strange paradox we carry… to ache...

Moon goddess, tonight your face is red with shadow and fire. You ask me to sit with what I’d rather not see: the ache still moving in my...

Ah, the full moon. Sitting here in my new home, birds singing outside, the sun setting, the green of the trees all around. Slowing down....

Full Moon in Scorpio – May 12, 2025 The moon didn’t let me sleep last night. She called me down and in — into the places I’ve neatly...

I’m living in one place, and dreaming another into being. The walls around me are familiar— marked by years of memory and rhythm. And...

Lying on the sand, the sea breathing before me, I watched the mist roll in — soft, rose-tinted tendrils curling toward me from the...

I arrive— breath held, feet pausing at the threshold, young ones within me peeking out, eyes wide, hearts questioning: Will we be safe? Will we be seen? Will we belong?

In the hush between darkness and dawn, I step into the unseen. Black Tara, silent and vast, waits where the threshold hums with knowing....

Standing here, at the threshold— midpoint, cusp, inhale, exhale— light and dark folded into each other, the pull of what was, the whisper...

In the shadowed hush of moonlight's grace, I stand, bare and boundless, in night's embrace. Ketu's fingers, cool and keen, Trace the...

We meet them here, in the quiet moments— morning light caught in their lashes, feet still curled in sleep’s soft forgetting, the hush...

Am I the stories woven in whispers, echoes of a past self lingering like shadows in my bones? Am I the shape of others’ perceptions,...

In the quiet moments, I turn inward, embracing stillness, where whispers of truth rise from within. Holy flame, guide me, lend me the...

In the stillness where shadows sigh, A path unfolds beneath the sky. Soft winds whisper, the forest hums, A call to stillness—here it...

Beneath the rising Cancer moon, its silver light cradles my weary heart, and I feel the tides within— ancient, insistent, unrelenting....

Beneath the moon’s growing glow, The tides rise and fall within us, Whispering stories of care and home, Of waters we’ve traveled, and...