After decades of rebranding and relabeling myself, I’ve gotten fairly good at it. Colors and textures and roses of every hue. I have a stack of DBAs I’ve filed over the years, never moving much further on the path before I’d be on another. I remember literally getting into the car after securing a DBA …
I needed to go back and learn about my childhood before I could make sense out of the path ahead of me. But first, an update. So much has happened since my last post, friends. Shortly after publishing my book, Hey God, Why Is Life So Hard?, I reconnected with a community that I considered …
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Our healing journey can be compared to many things. I’ve compared it to the sprouting of a seed before. Lately, I’ve been comparing it to the transformation of a caterpillar. Mostly because my current state of mind can be excused and understood when I define it as a cocoon. After exhausting myself by running around …
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I was woefully undermothered as a child. My mother was woefully undermothered as a child. My mother’s mother was woefully undermothered as a child. These wounds run deep.
For as long as humans have been telling each other stories, they’ve been telling stories about magick. Some of the older stories, when translated correctly, are remarkably close to true. Unfortunately, many of our modern tales of magick are not nearly as true.
Focus on forgiveness Not merely of others but forgiveness of self Forgive our self for not knowing those things we only learned too late
Magick isn’t something you do, magick is what you are. Already. For reals. Humanity has always known that we are magick.
