Archive | Spirit Matters
The Weather Report
People are always DMing me: Is it just me or is something going on with the stars? So I’ve created a text-message service to answer that question on any given day, using your birthdate and a tarot card I draw while tuning into you.
The way it works is simple. 1. Fill out this form (It requests your name, DOB, and a sentence about why you’re asking–i.e., you’re feeling anxious; wondering if it’s a good day to ask out your crush; simple curious.) 2. Venmo $50 (handle: lisa-rosman; requested digits: 4575). 3. Within an hour (usually less), I’ll message back specific guidance about how the stars are affecting your day’s prospects; what is further revealed by the tarot card I pull on your behalf; a screenshot of that card for meditation purposes; and how to make the most of whatever shows up!
If you’ve received a Ruby Intuition intuitive reading in the past, I’ll check your astrological chart; if not, I will use your sign and age though feel free to include your moon and ascendant if you know it. Rest assured that you’ll receive a lot of info either way!
How is this different from other astrological offerings? It’s practical and personal. Trust that I’ll alert you to any activity that’s an especially bad or good call, and how the tarot card specifically applies to your question. Also: if I don’t see any big astrological aspects gumming up your works, I’ll be honest. 
Magic never works without honesty, and sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.
To streamline this process, your form and Venmo donation ($30; handle: lisa-rosman) are required for my response. Hours of inquiry: 7:30am-2pm EST. No additional messages guaranteed and only short-term questions answered. To chart your optimal path over a longer timeline, book an intuitive reading.
Check your “whether” today! Fill out the form here; Venmo here!
50 Is the Body Electric (Space Crone Jams)
Ready for the thing no one ever says? I like my body better at 50 than I did at 20. It’s not perfect now but it wasn’t perfect then. In general bodies aren’t perfect. Bodies are encasements, temples, tactics. Precious and purposeful. Us. At 20 I was sick, scared, anxious, angry–anorectic, with the colon and joints of a much older woman due to two decades of sustained and displaced trauma. Aka hysterical in the classic Freudian sense. (Fuck Freud, obviously.) I panicked over every extra calorie and drew what little self-esteem I had from being thinner than others–no one acknowledges what mean girls we anorexics can be. At 50 I am all curves and angles–fully inhabiting the Scottish-Sioux-Ashkenazi peasant body that is my birthright. Big hands, breasts, hips, belly, brain. Fierce look, limbs, will. Strong as a mother, o yes, and perfectly willing to flirt with whomever stares because at this point no one can topple me with their desire. I’m like a red oak that way (every way). Are my eyes going? For sure. Is my back worse? Doubly sure. But every day I feed this body beautiful useful things. I stretch it, walk it, water it, sun it, shower it. Lipstick it. Listen to it. Love it. In return it still holds me up and sometimes even lets me shine. At 50 I am old enough to be grateful for every day and every way I feel physically good–for every organ, muscle, inch that works well. For every ailment that heals. Even better, I have learned how to be grateful for change–even decay–because it means I’ve lived long enough for it to happen. At 50 you don’t look like anyone’s projection anymore, no one’s generic dream of a girl or a perfect lady. But you’re not really invisible. Instead, you look like the life you’ve led. What’s more beautiful than that?