I look at my best friends and don’t see the wrinkles or shadows that a stranger might see. I see the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed lovebugs I’ve adored for years–decades, in many cases. The people I’ve laughed with, cried with, fought with, launched mischief with on the dancefloor, in the sandbox, on each other’s couches and in each other’s kitchens. This is the unique value of lifelong peers. We see each other’s common denominators through all the trappings. We see each other’s souls. Last night I came home giddy from my first-ever tap class and a bevy of dearhearts immediately texted to kvell, regardless of their days’ exhaustion and frustration. This is how it is. We cheer each other’s triumphs and check in when times are tough. We don’t require each other to be happy but are so very glad when we we are. I love you, pretty people, and as we enter a terrifying new era, I’m grateful to have your arms to clutch.
The full moon in Cancer arrived a few hours ago and I know because I woke weeping. This is an aspect that opens us to our intuitive abilities and also our deepest feelings—the sweetest ones, the sorest ones. Cancer is all about the home, so we are asked: What feels like home? More to the point, who feels like home? As is true for many from broken lines, opening my heart—and my hearth—is the hardest thing to do, and I react badly when my welcome mat is muddied through carelessness or cruelty. Today I feel the full weight of those miscommunications and unkindnesses— my own as well as others. So I am doing the only thing I can when energy lines are blocked. I am cleaning, literally and metaphorically. Straightening your house—scrubbing it, saging it, shining it—is the best way to let go of what’s not yours to keep. More to the point, it’s the best way to make room for love and light. May your hearth sparkle like the cleanest of mirrors. The cleanest of windows, too. Painting: Diann Blevins
I need a month–nay, a week!–in which no one who obviously needs therapy tells me that they don’t need therapy because they do iowaska. I am an intuitive, and absolutely believe in the revelations offered by such experiences. But I also believe in the rigor and incremental changes of regular old therapy. God knows the work I do only increases my need for it. Continue Reading →
I look at my best friends and don’t see the wrinkles or shadows that a stranger might see. I see the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed lovebugs I’ve adored for years–decades, in many cases. The people I’ve laughed with, cried with, fought with, launched mischief with on the dancefloor, in the sandbox, on each other’s couches and in each other’s kitchens. This is the unique value of lifelong peers. We see each other’s common denominators through all the trappings. We see each other’s souls. Last night I came home giddy from my first-ever tap class and a bevy of dearhearts immediately texted to kvell, regardless of their days’ exhaustion and frustration. This is how it is. We cheer each other’s triumphs and check in when times are tough. We don’t require each other to be happy but are so very glad when we we are. I love you, pretty people, and as we enter a terrifying new era, I’m grateful to have your arms to clutch.
The full moon in Cancer arrived a few hours ago and I know because I woke weeping. This is an aspect that opens us to our intuitive abilities and also our deepest feelings—the sweetest ones, the sorest ones. Cancer is all about the home, so we are asked: What feels like home? More to the point, who feels like home? As is true for many from broken lines, opening my heart—and my hearth—is the hardest thing to do, and I react badly when my welcome mat is muddied through carelessness or cruelty. Today I feel the full weight of those miscommunications and unkindnesses— my own as well as others. So I am doing the only thing I can when energy lines are blocked. I am cleaning, literally and metaphorically. Straightening your house—scrubbing it, saging it, shining it—is the best way to let go of what’s not yours to keep. More to the point, it’s the best way to make room for love and light. May your hearth sparkle like the cleanest of mirrors. The cleanest of windows, too. Painting: Diann Blevins
I need a month–nay, a week!–in which no one who obviously needs therapy tells me that they don’t need therapy because they do iowaska. I am an intuitive, and absolutely believe in the revelations offered by such experiences. But I also believe in the rigor and incremental changes of regular old therapy. God knows the work I do only increases my need for it. Continue Reading →