Today is Ostara, the vernal equinox, the first day of spring. It is the year’s most powerful burst of energy, a magnificent roaring fire. In the pagan and astrological calendars, it is also the first day of the new year—when Mother Earth officially springs back to life. This is more relevant than it has ever been, for we have been mistreating this beautiful planet for so many decades that she has taken it back so that we all may heal. Rather than complain, thank her before you go to bed. Even apologize. Then turn to the heavens and imagine the world you’d like to return to. Imagine how you will fill time when we step back into it. Breathe into that space, ask your highest spirit to help build it out.
Tomorrow, if you have the means, plant a garden. Even one seed will help. We all need beauty and sustenance right now. We all need hope.
In the days to come i will be offering Life in the Time of Covid-19 intuition readings on a pay-what-you-can basis. My own means of support have been suspended by this plague, but no one who is struggling will be turned away. Details to follow, but feel free to reach out now.
I had this really beautiful Wednesday where I saw long-lost friends everywhere—some on purpose, some roaming around the neighborhood, even a few from whom I’d been estranged for what reads now as absolutely small potatoes. Case in point: K, the Legend, and I had a perfectly cordial coffee at Oslo–something I couldn’t have imagined three months ago. Three weeks ago.
Overall the vibe was so terrifyingly end-of-the world, like everyone was making peace and exchanging IRL love before the COVID-19 anvil could come down for good. Even the pretty mild sunshine reminded me of the absolutely perfect weather of the morning of 9-11-01, right before the towers fell and people I loved died along with a trust I hadn’t known I’d taken for granted.
By Thursday, the vibe had changed enormously. In crowded grocery and drug store aisles, shoppers anxiously stuffed nonperishables into newly (and ironically) non-plastic bags. Some wore gloves, masks, hunched shoulders. Others stalked about in shorts and tee shirts, plenty of flesh exposed and eyes plenty guarded. By 8:30am lines were endless–snaking around city blocks, up and down stairwells. At Whole Foods I raised my eyebrows at a woman who looked more like me than anyone I’d ever met–long, broad bones; wide slash of a mouth; green eyes defined by bemusement and half-brows. It turned out she also was of Polish descent, only her family had come over in the 1990s, not the 1930s. Continue Reading →