To the ones who are earnestly doing their work,

Heads down,

Hearts open,

Bleeding,

Writhing,

Grieving,

Changing.

And not necessarily talking about it,

And not necessarily posting about it.

But showing up every day to their Life and Process.

To the ones doing the holy, quiet labor of unraveling who they learned themselves to be,

In a Zoom room, on someone’s floor or couch, in a voice note, in their relations, in the arms of a friend or Beloved, in the quiet of their own heart, in the depths of their own pain, in their journals, in ceremony, with their head in a toilet purging.

To the ones who are saying “no” for the first time to the drink, the puff, the fleeting hit of validation, the Tinder message, the situationship, the boundaryless family member, the hateful joke or passing comment, the unaligned career.

To the ones who are saying “no” even when their voice shakes and their heart is beating out of their chest as they do it. Even when they actually need recovery t...

How could they know?

Her face, Mother’s lap, 

Soft hands, her back.

Tears soaked, mascara stream.

Young love, broken dream.

Wave settles, breathing slows.

An opening comes, the Mother knows.

They just don’t know, they cannot see,  

“How could they, dear?” the Mother said sweetly.  

The child’s ears opened, and the silence grew,  

And she felt a Heart Light shining through. 

How could they see you if you fear being seen?

If you never reveal what lies between.

If you hide behind masks, loud laughs, an armored heart?

How could they see you if you don’t show your Art?

The storm clouds broke and the clarity came,

The child’s eyes widened, revealing more pain.

It all makes sense, she thought in her head…

And a more troubling answer arose instead.

Not: How do I get them to see me and like me?

To Who on earth did I come here to be?

And what is She like when no one is around?

And what does She feel like when she doesn’t make a sound?

That feels like a lot and I don’t r...

Breakup as Triumph

In February of this year, I went through a breakup from my partner of 3.5 years, who I lived with.

Pause.

Notice what comes up for you when you read that neutral statement.

What thought forms, emotions, or projections appear?

“OMG!!!! Oh no!!!!!!”

“I’m so sorry!!!”

“Why!?!?”

“That sucks.”

“Don’t worry—you’ll find someone else. You’re young and beautiful.”

These are actual responses I’ve heard over the past few months. Not from close people or my family - but mostly actual strangers or people I am in parasocial relation with. 

And it’s made me ask: What the f*ck is going on with our collective relationship to relationships—and especially to endings and beginnings?*

The immediate shock, fear, disapproval, and pity (without inquiry) projected onto the situation when shared  has been striking.

Wait, what?

How do you know it sucks?

You don’t know him, or me, or the situation.

How do you know it wasn’t mutual?

How do you know it wasn’t my choice?

There is nothing radical about over-sexualizing The Goddess.

Oversexualizing the Goddess is a symptonm of patriarchy and colonialism, plain and simple.

“Goddess” culture and lifestyle in the new age is rooted in misogyny and being pleasing to the male gaze.

Same old story, new packaging.

We must be discerning with where we learn about the Goddess and Feminine / Masculine energies. Particularly, "tantric" practitioners.

is it Polarity or is it Patriarchy?

Is it Tantra or Capitalism? 

Is it authentic essence expression or the wounded maiden crying out in desperation for help?

is it inclusive to and liberatory for all bodies, all women, all people? Look around the room to see.

Is it rooted in lineage and rooted in something True?

Is it upholding Dharma or creating Karma?

Reducing the Goddess down to a thin white woman looking "sexy" is like reducing the ocean down to a single drop. Or less than a drop.

Kali cackles and then she growls.

No shame - I did this, lived this, and b...

Sometime in 2022...

The dark goddess loves a good death, because she loves a good birth.

The dark goddess took/takes me to hell to allow me to remember my Wholeness. ❤️‍🔥

She tapped me on the shoulder. In the way only the Dark Goddess can.

Subtle as a tsunami. The biggest energy I have ever felt. The kind of energy you touch and feel in your body and wonder if it will destroy you.

And it will. And it did. And it does.

I was terrified.

I resisted letting her in until I realized that the lack of surrender was simply feeding my Ego's attempts at keeping me small.

I met her in dreams, in my body, in somatic work, in journeys. I met her through others. I met her through the epic Sedona storms.

I met her in my wrath and rage.

I met her in my wounded maiden and terrified inner children.

I met her when I felt like it and when I didn't.

I met her through Dharma.

And when I stray, it's felt.

The choicelesness of facing myself and Truth. And...

Rejection of the womb is rejection of Mother Earth. 

Perhaps the biggest threat of our time is the denial of the womb. 

When we deny the womb, we deny the natural order of things. We defy natural order.

Confusion ensues.

Self abandonment is inevitable.

When a woman rejects her womb, she rejects her intuition. The intuition lives in the womb. The subtle voice of the intuition that seems to come out of nowhere comes from the womb, the deep oceans of the womb.

All wombs are connected. It is a place of belonging for women to share. This is an important thing regardless of upbringing...but especially for women who learned that they indeed, did NOT belong,

If this was the case... 

Of course we rejected parts of self. 

Of course we self-abandoned. 

Of course we contorted and shape shifted and pleased and performed to belong. 

Of course we got confused about how to relate. 

Of course the voice of the intuition became a faint whisper we could no longer ...

At the top of my lungs.

When the whisper becomes a scream,

I realize it has gone too long

Too long

Too long forgotten

Set aside

Avoided

Numbed

Ignored

Too far

Too extreme

Too loud

Too distracting

Too dysregulating

Too dense

Too confused

When the whisper gets louder, I begin to remember

Remember the voice of deservingness

Who I was before I came here

My soul’s cry for more

For better

For unconditional

For a return home

Home to Self

When I begin to remember, I somehow forget

A year or two or three of: remember to forget

Forgetting my needs

What I want

What is me and mine

What is his

What is ours

What is Real

The fog of confusion drowns me in its blur

And soon, his confusion becomes mine

"I'll hold this for you" someone inside me whispers

The forgetting begins again

When the whisper becomes a scream once more, there is a moment

Vajra

Clarity

A snapping

A breaking

A shattering of illusion

A complete and radical seeing

Instantaneously by Grace

Gno...

The one who knows.

This is a call to the one that knows. 

The one who listened to the subtle yearning in their heart seed for more, 

The one who realized that they are here to wake up. 

The one who is burning from the inside out  

Trying to fit in a life, a body, a container too small 

The one who realized the old way was killing them 

The one who knows there’s another Path. 

This is a call to the one that is not scared. 

That is willing to die for the cause. 

That knows death is not the end. 

The one that feels the urgency to wake up in this lifetime. 

The one that knows its choiceness. 

This is a call to the one that is brave 

Brave enough to annihilate the small Self 

In the name of a greater purpose 

The one that is devoted to something 

That the small Self could never fathom 

For it’s far too big. 

This is a call to the one that is humble. 

The one that knows this is the beginning. 

That it may not be time to serve. 

That the work is done in the center of the...

August 25, 2025

“What is a Waverley?”

A tribute to my dearest friend on her 35th birthday.

It’s something that is best experienced and almost impossible to capture in words.

And yet…

Waverley is an unshakeable force, 

She is precise like lightning and ruthless like a tornado.

In a word, she is fearless.

Because it’s her nature,

And because she had to be,

Has to be…

Because she is.

She is soft and gentle,

With fangs that *can* bite,

But only will if absolutely necessary.

She is Love embodied.

Unconditional Love,

The kind that they tried to write about in romance novels,

But fell short of every time,

Because that love is nothing like this Love.

She is courageous and Lion-hearted,

Indestructible in the sense that, 

She will not stay down.

(Legend says many have tried, but you’d have to ask her about that.)

It is important to note that Waverley is also a very silly goose,

Playful,

Creative,

Spontaneous,

Fun,

Witty,

Joyful.

She is seeing and experiencing...