Archive | Country Matters

Ruby Intuition Gift Offerings

As 2021 draws to a close, consider the gift of Ruby Intuition. During this year of great upheaval, I’ve been honored to help chart optimal paths and look forward to charting even more for 2022. Omicron may be ruining our best-laid plans but Zoom energy readings are proving at least as effective as my in-person sessions. They allow intense downloads to be absorbed in the comfort of your own space, and electricity is energy, after all.

Dream medicine sessions are also now available. Designed to decode the psychic messages sent by your highest self, these sessions draw upon tarot, breath work, and your own powerful intuition, help you distinguish between psychic and psychological downloads, and are also useful for those who don’t remember dreams but would like to start.

So book a session, gift a reading, give yourself or another dream medicine, DM, and feel free to share this post. I’m always grateful to reorient you and your loved ones with practical magic, kittens.

Faith and Light on the Winter Solstice

December 21 is Winter Solstice, the longest night pierced by the brightest light. To me, this is truly the most magical day of the year, a sacred gateway, for to find our way out of such looming darkness we must summon and share extraordinary power. Miracles, in fact. I’m talking about the faith that we can create something from nothing. Matter from energy. Immaculate birth. An oil that burns for eight days. The faith that love can subsume even the darkest nights of the soul—and Omicron.

Here, at this turning point of the year and of our country, on this hardest and holiest of days, we are in dire need of such faith. We must listen, we must light, and we must love. Sending everything in my heart

Get a one-time-only solstice reading tomorrow. Designed to banish your shadows and activate your strengths, we will draw on astrology, a specially designed tarot spread and ritual to help ignite your unique light in this long night of the soul. Book a session for yourself or gift one to another here.

Thanksgiving Falls on Every Day of My Calendar

I got up early, watched the sunrise with coffee and permakitten, drove over to Queens in Minerva, my trusty blue hatchback, and took a long hike through Forest Park, listening to the birds and squirrels and wind and leaves, meditating by the pond as the whippoorwills and a potbellied homo sapien practiced their scales. On the way home I stopped off at Trader Joe’s to fetch things I’ll want to eat on the Thursday formerly known to me as Thanksgiving, and joked with cashiers whom I’ve come to know and adore. It was a simple morning, but so meaningful and joyful because it was entirely on my terms.

Only very very recently could a woman could live by herself, drive a car she bought herself with money kept in a bank account with only her name on it. Even more miraculous: I finance my existence with work I feel called to do that once upon a time would’ve got me burned at the stake.

Given our country’s history of genocide and colonization–and given my complicated personal relationship to the Thanksgiving holiday–I’ve come to treat the last Thursday of November as a quiet and solitary day of reflection. I go for a long city walk, I say hi to the river, I slow-roast local vegetables, I pay my respects to this land that has seen so much harm since Europeans’ arrival. And then I watch really raggedy, emotionally complicated films like Lumet’s The Morning After, in which Jane Fonda plays a drunken former actress framed for murder on Thanksgiving Weekend.

It’s been a year since I injured my back so badly I was immobilized; two years since I was so broke I was afraid I would lose my home. Now, through the support of friends, healers, and my own adjustments, I can stand on my two feet again. I’m profoundly grateful I can freely move through this world’s extraordinary-ordinariness on my own terms. There is always so much beauty and love to be honored

Every day of the week, I’m so grateful to be grateful.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy