May 2025 Energy Forecast

Freedom, Flow, and Flipping the Script

Alright, you beautiful badass — May is not here to fuck around. It's here to set you free. But (and it’s a big but — like a glorious, J.Lo kind of but), you’ve gotta actually let it.

We kicked this whole thing off with the Dolphin as our power animal, and that little slippery guru has one simple message: Chill the fuck out and trust the joy. Life isn’t meant to be a never-ending Home Depot list of “improvements.” It’s meant to be lived, danced through, and — occasionally — cannonballed into face first with a laugh. Play. Flow. Laugh. Repeat.

And then we pulled the cards, and oooooh, baby... they backed that vibe hard.

First Half of May:

You’re exhausted from battles that don’t even matter (5 of Swords + 4 of Swords). Mental exhaustion is real, my friend. Give yourself permission to opt the hell out of drama — even if it’s just the drama happening between your own two ears.

Healing isn’t a luxury this month. It’s mandatory. Nap like it’s your side hustle. Mute the chaos. Choose your peace like you choose your coffee: daily and without guilt.

Middle of May:

Here comes a choice (2 of Swords) — and spoiler alert: you’re not gonna think your way through it. Nope. You’ll feel your way through.

The Page of Cups says trust your dreams, your gut, and your weird little inner child who still believes in impossible magic. Logic? Cute. But your heart knows the real move. Follow it.

End of May:

Wishes fulfilled (9 of Cups, hell yes!) but guard your wins (4 of Pentacles). Queen of Cups energy says stay soft but savvy. Love with your whole damn heart — but don’t hand over the keys to your emotional kingdom to every Tom, Dick, and Energy Vampire.

Your peace is non-negotiable now.

Shadow Side Warning: Old Chains, Same Bullshit

Listen up, gorgeous soul: May is laying out the keys to your freedom like a cosmic jailbreak toolkit — but if you slip into old habits, here’s what you’re risking:

• Overthinking yourself into a coma. Overthinking is not insight. It's just anxiety in a trench coat.

• Choosing fear over flow. Fear is a terrible tour guide. Don't let that bitch hold the map.

• Clinging to comfort cages. Comfort isn’t the same thing as freedom, babe. Know the difference.

• Wasting your wishes. 9 of Cups is dangling dreams in front of you — don’t get too bitter to even wish.

Your Shadow-Side Pep Talk:

You’re not stuck.
You’re scared.
And scared is fine — but it's not the fucking boss of you.

When the old doubts creep in? Laugh. Flow. Choose joy like it’s a weapon. Kick the mental jail door wide open with your bare feet and a middle finger.

May's Power Mantra

“I don't chase, I don't beg, I flow.
My joy is sacred.
And I set myself free, over and over again.”

The TL;DR (Because We’re Gen X and We Have Shit to Do)

• Rest or crash. Those are the options. Choose rest.

• Feel your way forward, not think your way into another breakdown.

• Dream big and actually expect good things to happen.

• Guard your wins like a dragon hoarding treasure.

• Self-liberation is the theme. Nobody’s coming to save you — because you ARE the hero.

May isn’t about forcing. It’s about flowing so damn hard you forget why you ever thought you had to struggle in the first place.

How to Repel Negative Energy: Because not every bad mood is a demon. Sometimes it’s just Karen.

When the Vibes Are Off and Your Brain Knows It

You know that feeling when someone walks into the room and your nervous system goes, “NOPE”? Maybe the air feels sticky, your skin gets weirdly itchy, and your soul tries to back out slowly like Homer into the hedge?

Yeah. Welcome to the Vibe Swamp.

Here’s the thing: it’s not always a ghost or your ex beaming psychic daggers at you. Sometimes, your nervous system is just doing its damn job. Let’s talk about how to actually deal with negative energy—no glittery potions, no fear-mongering, and definitely no culty incantations from TikTok witches with ring lights.

The Science of “Ick” – Why Bad Vibes Are Real

We love a little woo, but let’s be honest—most “bad energy” has receipts in science:

• Neuroception (a fancy word from Polyvagal Theory) means your nervous system is constantly scanning people, places, and energies like a TSA agent for danger—or just really bad vibes.

• Mirror Neurons are your brain’s nosy little mimics. Someone’s anxious, pissed off, or repressed? Your brain catches that frequency like Wi-Fi. And suddenly, you’re grumpy and don’t know why.

• Environmental Junk: Fluorescent lights, noise, clutter, and that godawful cologne your coworker won’t stop wearing all mess with your energy. This is why Target makes you feel alive and Walmart feels like purgatory.

• EMFs: I’m not saying your Wi-Fi router is haunted, but maybe don’t sleep with it next to your head. Your nervous system wasn’t designed for 24/7 Bluetooth exposure and doomscrolling. Turn your damn phone off at night. Unplug stuff. Try grounding mats if you’re extra. I have 2 of them. Don’t judge.

Tools That Actually Help and Don’t Require a Wand

No shade to rituals, but sometimes you just need to not absorb Brittany’s breakdown during a Zoom call.

Grounding:

• Take off your shoes. Touch a tree. I don’t care if your neighbors think you’ve lost it—you’re touching grass, not having a barefoot breakdown in public.

Noise-canceling Headphones:

• Literal aura armor. Bonus: you can pretend not to hear people you don’t like. Science and spite. We love that.

Water, Salt, and Food That Didn’t Come From a Box:

• Your brain and body are electric. Hydration and minerals are the original vibe protectors.

• Also, eat a vegetable. Your gut is your second brain and it hates Hot Cheetos at 11pm.

Sleep:

• If you feel like everyone hates you and your life is falling apart, try a nap first. No joke—sleep deprivation amplifies emotional sensitivity and dulls your B.S. radar.

Woo Adjacent: Crystals, Salt, and Visualization (Don’t Knock It)

Let’s not throw out the baby with the bathwater—or the bath salt.

Black Tourmaline:

• The goth bouncer of the crystal world. Great for emotional boundaries, less great for decorating.

Salt:

• Not just for margaritas and petty spells. Sprinkle it at doorways, add it to your bath, or keep a pinch in your bra if you’re feeling spicy.

Visualization:

• Science-backed. Athletes do it. CEOs do it. You can too. Picture a mirror shield, a light bubble, a moat full of sarcasm—whatever makes you feel sealed and sovereign.

Boundaries Are the Real Protection Spell

Repeat after me: “I don’t have to attend every emotional dumpster fire I’m invited to.”

• If you’re absorbing everyone’s crap, it’s not because you’re too sensitive. It’s because no one taught you to say “no, actually, this isn’t mine.”

• Energetic boundaries are just emotional boundaries in a velvet cape. You are not a sponge. You are a sovereign human with limited bandwidth and possibly joint pain.

Final Thought: You Don’t Need a Seance, You Need a System

Repelling negative energy isn’t about being “high vibe” 24/7 or burning sage every time you get ghosted. It’s about understanding how your nervous system and environment interact—and protecting your peace with both intention and common damn sense.

Now go out there and be the ‘Not Today, Satan’ energy incarnate.

The Earth Has a Hangover and It’s Tapping the Wall Every 26 Seconds

You ever wake up and swear you can feel the Earth throb under your feet? Not metaphorically. I mean literally. A low hum. A pulse. A subtle tap-tap-tap like the planet’s got cabin fever and it’s knocking on the goddamn walls, waiting for somebody—anybody—to notice.

Turns out, that’s not just the tequila wearing off.

Science Says: Yeah, That’s a Thing

Every 26 seconds, the Earth lets out a seismic sigh. Like clockwork. Steady. Relentless. A heartbeat, if you wanna get poetic about it. Or a death knell, if you’ve got a darker bent. Either way, it’s real—and it’s been happening since at least the 1960s. Some poor bastard noticed it while listening to the Earth’s underbelly through a seismograph and went, “Huh. That’s odd.”

Geologists think it might be caused by waves slapping the coast of West Africa. The Gulf of Guinea, to be precise. Like the ocean’s got rhythm and she’s been beatboxing into the crust this whole time while we scroll Instagram and pretend we’re not melting the damn planet.

It’s technically called a microseism, but that’s a sterile little name for something that’s so weird it feels personal.

Conspiracies, Anyone?

Now, if you're the type who thinks fluoride is mind control and pigeons are government drones, this is where your nipples perk up.

Some folks say this 26-second pulse ain’t ocean waves—it’s a message. Like the planet's trying to talk to us in Morse code: ...please stop fracking me... Others think it’s some leftover frequency from ancient tech. You know—Atlantean death rays, pyramids wired to alien Wi-Fi, HAARP having a laugh while we blame mercury retrograde.

Is it Gaia herself, rolling her eyes and muttering “these motherfuckers…” every half-minute?

Or maybe it’s just tectonic gas. But even farts have something to say.

The Earth Might Be Alive (And Tired of Our Shit)

Let’s step back.

The ancients thought the Earth was a living being. A goddess. A beast. A force that births, devours, and doesn’t send you a warning text first. We modern types? We paved her skin, fracked her bones, and stuffed her mouth with plastic.

But she’s still breathing.

Every 26 seconds, the Earth reminds us she’s not just a passive stage for our drama. She’s in the act. She’s the goddamn playwright. And this little heartbeat? It could be a whisper. Or a countdown.

Either way, you should be listening.

Final Thought: Don’t Ignore the Knock

So yeah, while you’re lighting candles and staging your house for “vibes,” just remember: the planet has a pulse. A rhythm. A slow, deep drumbeat like jazz from the abyss. And maybe it’s not science or conspiracy—maybe it’s just the sound of something bigger than us stretching her limbs.

Or maybe it’s a pissed-off goddess tapping her long, cracked nails on the inside of this blue marble, waiting for us to notice before she finally flips the fuckin’ table.

You don’t have to believe it. But next time you feel the ground tremble—don’t say nobody warned you.

The Teddy Girls: Divine Rebellion in a Dapper Jacket

Let’s talk about the original tough girls with killer style—the Teddy Girls.

These weren’t your average 1950s poodle skirt-wearing sweethearts waiting for Prince Charming and a white picket fence. Nope. These were the sharp-dressed, streetwise don’t-even-look-at-me-that-way women who gave the post-war patriarchy a perfectly manicured middle finger.

They smoked. They swaggered. They wore Edwardian jackets, rolled-up jeans, and winklepicker shoes—which, if you’ve never seen one, imagine a pointy-toed stiletto or boot that could double as a weapon. The name comes from the British slang “winkle-pick,” as in using something sharp to pull tiny sea snails out of their shells. Yes, they were that sharp.

And let’s talk about those Edwardian jackets for a second—because they weren’t just vintage. They were dapper as hell. Tailored within an inch of their lives, with high collars, strong lapels, and clean lines that screamed “I’m not here to be cute, I’m here to take over.” They had this aristocratic-meets-urban grit vibe that made the girls look like they could attend high tea or a knife fight and not have to change outfits. That’s the kind of wardrobe sorcery we can all aspire to.

The whole vibe? Like they were going to a funeral for tradition—and honestly, they were.

But here’s the thing: hardly anyone talks about them. Their male counterparts—the Teddy Boys—got all the ink, all the drama, and all the “hooligan” headlines. Meanwhile, the girls? Ghosted by history. And yet, they were the blueprint for rebellious feminine energy. They weren’t waiting to be invited to the revolution—they were already dancing on the edge of it in stacked heels and a scowl.

And just in case you’re wondering why you’ve never heard of them before, it’s not your fault. Media coverage? Practically nonexistent. Like most women who dare to shake up the system, they were mostly ignored, dismissed, or reduced to side characters in their own damn story.

If it weren’t for a young photographer named Ken Russell, we might not even know these girls existed. In 1955, he shot a rare photo essay capturing their street style, smirks, and defiant poses. Honestly? It’s a visual love letter to their “fuck the system” energy. Bless that man for knowing greatness when he saw it.

Channeling the Sacred Feminine (With a Switchblade in Her Purse)

The Teddy Girls, or Judies as they were known, didn’t just break fashion rules—they redefined what it meant to be a woman in a world still clinging to corsets and gender conformity. And that, my friend, is goddess energy. Not the soft-focus, rose-petal kind. I’m talking about the raw, unapologetic, “I make my own damn rules” kind.

Lilith would’ve been their ride-or-die. She was the prototype of “not today, patriarchy.” When Adam tried to pull the “you were made to serve me” card, Lilith laughed, lit a cigarette off a lightning bolt, and said, "Boy, bye."

These women—both mortal and mythic—weren’t “angry” or “difficult.” They were sovereign. Powerful. And deeply uninterested in playing roles someone else wrote for them.

So What Can We Learn from the Teddy Girls?

1. Style is a statement. Every piece they wore said, “I decide who I am.” You don’t need to follow trends—you need to follow your truth. And maybe throw on a brooch while you’re at it.

2. You don’t have to smile to be powerful. Let your presence speak louder than your approval.

3. You can carry softness and steel in the same body. The Teddy Girls weren’t devoid of heart—they were just tired of being underestimated.

4. Claim your space, even if it rattles some cages. Especially if it rattles some cages.

The Teddy Girls remind us that feminine energy doesn’t always come in pastel or lace. Sometimes, it walks in late, lights a cigarette, and says, “I’ll do it my way. Thanks.”

So here’s your permission slip to embody a little Teddy Girl energy. Channel your inner Lilith. Wear what makes you feel powerful. Say what you mean. And if anyone calls you “too much,” thank them and keep strutting.

Because divine rebellion never goes out of style.

Your Nervous System Is Fried—Let’s Fix That with the Vagus Nerve

A Jaded Hippie Guide to Actually Calming the Fuck Down

Look, if you've ever said "I'm fine" while clenching your jaw, shallow breathing, and feeling one passive-aggressive email away from a complete breakdown, congratulations—you’re the proud owner of a dysregulated nervous system. Welcome to the club. We have snacks. And trauma.

But before you self-diagnose with 14 TikTok disorders or start Googling “why do I feel like a constantly vibrating chihuahua,” let me introduce you to your vagus nerve—your body’s built-in reset button that’s been screaming “HELP ME HELP YOU” this entire time.

So, What the Hell Is the Vagus Nerve?

The vagus nerve (pronounced like “Vegas,” but way less likely to ruin your credit score) is the longest cranial nerve in your body. It starts in your brainstem and meanders its way through your neck, chest, heart, lungs, and lands in your gut—like a spiritual tour bus hitting all your vital systems.

It’s the MVP of your parasympathetic nervous system—aka your “rest and digest” mode. This is the state where your body repairs, restores, and stops acting like it’s in a zombie apocalypse. If your life feels like a non-stop stress response, guess what? Your vagus nerve is probably sleeping on the job—or more accurately, under-toned and neglected like your high school clarinet.

Why You Should Give a Shit About Toning It

Toning your vagus nerve isn’t just a cute wellness trend—it’s the key to healing from stress, trauma, burnout, and that general existential WTF-ness we all feel while doomscrolling.

A healthy vagus nerve helps with:

• Calming anxiety and panic attacks

• Better digestion (hello, gut-brain connection)

• Improved emotional regulation

• Decreased inflammation (because you’re not just “sensitive,” you're inflamed, babe)

• Enhanced intuition (yes, your vagus nerve is basically your third eye’s ride-or-die)

Basically, it’s the bridge between “I’m about to lose it” and “I got this.”

Nerd Break: What the Hell Is Polyvagal Theory?

Ohhh you thought the vagus nerve was just a “chill switch”? Buckle up, babe. We’re about to get real nerdy, real fast—and it actually explains why you freak out, shut down, or cry in the Target parking lot.

Polyvagal Theory, created by Dr. Stephen Porges, says your nervous system isn’t just on/off like a light switch. It’s more like a ladder—with three emotional states you move between throughout the day.

The Three Polyvagal States:

🟢 Ventral Vagal – Safe & Social

You’re calm, present, emotionally available, maybe even dare I say joyful. You can talk to people without wanting to set anything on fire. This is where healing, connection, and creativity happen.

🟡 Sympathetic – Fight or Flight

You’re anxious, wired, edgy. Heart racing. Voice tight. Ready to punch a wall or run into the woods. Not ideal for relationships, decision-making, or looking hot in selfies.

🔴 Dorsal Vagal – Freeze & Shutdown

You go numb, disassociate, feel hopeless or checked out. You’re a potato with a pulse. This is your nervous system’s emergency shutdown protocol, and yeah—it sucks.

So What?

Polyvagal Theory explains that you can’t think your way out of these states. You have to feel your way out—by working with your body (hello again, vagus nerve!). When your nervous system gets good at bouncing back up that ladder, you become more resilient, more embodied, and way less likely to melt down over a text that says “we need to talk.”

This is trauma healing, nervous system edition. It’s not just for therapists—it’s for anyone who’s ever snapped at their mom, ghosted a friend, or cried during a Subaru commercial.

How to Stimulate the Vagus Nerve Without Becoming a Full-Time Monk

Let’s be real—you’re not about to live in a cave and chant for six hours a day. You’ve got bills, trauma, and probably a 9-to-5 that makes your soul leak out of your ears. So here are some actually doable ways to work with your vagus nerve:

1. Breathe Like You’re Not in a Crisis

Slow, deep breathing—especially exhaling longer than you inhale—tells your nervous system, “We’re not about to die. Calm down, Brenda.”

Try this:
Inhale for 4 – Hold for 2 – Exhale for 6.
Do this for 3 minutes and feel yourself uncurl from fight-or-flight.

2. Sing, Hum, or Chant Like a Weirdo

The vagus nerve loves vibration. Your voice is medicine. Sing in the car, hum in the shower, chant “OM” like you mean it—or just gargle if you’re in a mood.

3. Get Cold AF

Cold water on the face, the neck, or finishing your shower with 10 seconds of icy water is like slapping your nervous system into calmness. You’ll hate it and love it at the same time. Like yoga. Or growth.

4. Move Your Damn Body

Neck rolls, gentle yoga, dancing like no one’s watching—these help re-regulate your system. The vagus nerve wraps through your core, so anything that loosens up tension there helps.

5. Laugh. Hard.

Big belly laughs. Ugly snorts. Memes that make you pee a little. Humor activates your parasympathetic state. And if anyone side-eyes your cackling, just tell them it’s doctor-prescribed.

The Sacred Layer (Because Obviously)

Want to make it sacred? Add some of this to your vagus ritual:

• Chakra focus: Throat (expression), Heart (connection), Solar Plexus (empowerment)

• Crystals: Blue lace agate, lepidolite, black tourmaline

• Moon phase work: New moons = reset your nervous system. Full moons = release stored trauma.

• Affirmation chant while breathing:
  “It is safe to relax. I am not in danger. My body remembers peace.”

Bottom Line:
You don’t need to burn sage on a Himalayan cliff to heal. You just need to befriend your nervous system. The vagus nerve isn’t woo—it’s science with soul. And when it’s working? So are you.

The Antikythera Mechanism: Ancient Tech—the First Celestial Calculator

Long before Apple Watches tracked your moon cycle and your rising sign, a group of ancient Greeks were out there building a bronze box of astrological badassery that could do more math than most of us will ever know.

Discovered in 1901 in a shipwreck near the Greek island of Antikythera (hence the wild-ass name), this rusted chunk of gears turned out to be the world's first analog computer. And what did it compute? Astrology, baby. Well, technically astronomy, but the line was blurrier back then. Celestial math was mystical, sacred, and probably involved wine.

So what was this thing?

Let’s put it this way: imagine a cross between a steampunk calculator, a planetarium in a box, and the astrological chart generator of your dreams… powered by gears instead of Wi-Fi.

The Antikythera Mechanism tracked:

• Lunar phases

• Planetary motion

• Solar eclipses

• Possibly even the ancient Greek Olympics (because who doesn’t want their transits aligned for javelin glory?)

All this with manual gears, mind you. Bronze wheels. Teeth. Hand-cranks. It’s like if Leonardo da Vinci built a FitBit for the cosmos… a thousand years early.

The Plot Twist: We Weren’t Supposed to Be This Smart (Yet)

Here’s the kicker: this thing dates back to somewhere between 150–100 BCE. That’s over a millennium before anyone else in recorded history made anything remotely close in complexity. Historians looked at it and basically went, “Wait... we had the blueprints for Space-Time Barbie’s Dream Clock this early and just forgot about it?”

Let’s face it, history is full of gaps—and this one is a full-on wormhole. The Antikythera Mechanism shattered the idea that the ancients were all wearing togas and sacrificing goats without knowing what time it was. These folks were tracking celestial events with gear ratios. Gear. Ratios.

Celestial Wisdom with a Gearbox

If you’re into astrology (and if you’re here, let’s be honest, you probably are), this mechanism is proof that we’ve been mapping the stars to understand ourselves for centuries. Whether you call it astronomy or astrology, the drive to decode the sky is ancient AF. And this device? It’s physical proof that our ancestors took their cosmic timing seriously.

You can almost picture it: an old-school astrologer turning a crank and saying, “Ohhh honey, you definitely don’t want to get married under this eclipse. Mars is squaring your whole life right now.”

My Jaded Hippie Takeaway

The Antikythera Mechanism is like finding your great-great-great-grandmother’s grimoire, and it turns out she was a tech witch. It reminds us that magic and science were never meant to be enemies. They’re twin flames, baby. And the stars? They’ve always been whispering to those who know how to listen—even if that meant building a damn bronze computer to catch what they were saying.

Want to tap into ancient celestial wisdom with a modern twist? Subscribe to the blog, grab a deck of cards, and maybe give your smartwatch the side-eye. The Greeks did it first—and with a hell of a lot more style.

Ostara & Easter: How a Pagan Spring Goddess and the Resurrection of Christ Bloomed Together

As the sun crosses the celestial equator and day finally balances night, we enter Ostara—a sabbat on the Wheel of the Year that celebrates the Spring Equinox. It's a time of renewal, fertility, and the triumphant return of light. But if you’ve ever wondered why bunnies, eggs, and springtime joy are associated with the resurrection of Jesus Christ, you’re not alone. The roots of Easter are tangled in both Pagan and Christian soil—and that’s what makes the story so fascinating.

What Is Ostara?

Ostara is one of eight sabbats on the Pagan Wheel of the Year, marking the Spring Equinox—when daylight and darkness are equal. Named after the Germanic goddess Ēostre (also spelled Ostara), this sabbat celebrates themes of:

• Balance (light and dark in harmony)

• Fertility (think eggs, rabbits, blossoming flowers)

• Renewal and Resurrection (new life emerging after the death of winter)

Ēostre was said to be a dawn goddess who brought light and fertility to the land. Her sacred animal? You guessed it—the hare, a potent symbol of abundance and rebirth.

Rebirth Is a Goddess Thing

As the Spring Equinox unfolds, a sacred portal opens—one where Pagan sabbats and Christian celebrations brush shoulders, and ancient goddesses rise from myth to stir something within us. Ostara may be the headliner, but she’s not alone. Each goddess brings her own flavor of magic to the season—and honestly, they’ve all earned a place in your ritual wardrobe.

Let’s go beyond Ēostre for one hot minute.

Ēostre (Germanic/Northern Europe)

• Vibe: Dawn, fertility, springtime awakening

• Symbols: Hares, eggs, sunrise

• Style Inspo: Flowy pastel maxi dress, embroidered floral details, vintage lace gloves, messy braids with wildflowers

Persephone (Greek)

• Vibe: Queen of the Underworld returning to Earth; duality of life and death

• Symbols: Pomegranate, flowers, butterflies

• Style Inspo: Dark floral corset top + light chiffon skirt; pomegranate-red lipstick, gold accessories, and shadowy eyeliner

Flora (Roman)

• Vibe: Goddess of flowers and blossoming

• Symbols: All blooming things, garlands, May-time festivals

• Style Inspo: Crown of daisies, off-the-shoulder top, bare feet, rose-scented perfume and a silk wrap skirt

Brigid (Celtic)

• Vibe: Fire, fertility, and creative spark

• Symbols: Wells, fire, lambs, poetry

• Style Inspo: Wool shawls, earthy layers, copper jewelry, leather boots, and a journal always in hand

Demeter (Greek)

• Vibe: Earth mother, goddess of the harvest, mourning and reunion

• Symbols: Wheat, torch, poppies

• Style Inspo: Wrap dress in muted earth tones, gold belt, ankle boots, wild hair full of sun-dried herbs

Astarte/Ishtar (Mesopotamian)

• Vibe: Fertility, war, and resurrection

• Symbols: Stars, lions, eggs, doves

• Style Inspo: Metallic accents, dramatic eyeliner, statement jewelry

Across cultures, springtime has long been the domain of goddesses who govern life, fertility, and transformation.

Enter Christianity: The Resurrection Narrative

In Christian tradition, Easter celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ, three days after his crucifixion. This event is central to the Christian faith and symbolizes victory over death, spiritual renewal, and eternal life.

But here’s where it gets interesting: the date of Easter is not fixed like Christmas. Instead, it’s determined by the first Sunday after the first full moon following the Spring Equinox—the very season sacred to Ostara.

Syncretism: When Worlds Collide

As Christianity spread across Europe, it often absorbed and reinterpreted existing pagan traditions. This wasn’t just a marketing strategy; it was a way to make the new faith more accessible and palatable to those who already celebrated the cycles of nature. Very clever, indeed.

• Ēostre’s name may have influenced the word "Easter" (especially in Germanic languages).

• Eggs, which symbolized fertility in pagan rites, were adopted by Christians as symbols of Jesus’ empty tomb and resurrection.

• Rabbits and hares, sacred to Ēostre, morphed into the Easter Bunny.

• Springtime rituals, once devoted to the earth’s rebirth, became metaphors for spiritual rebirth in Christ.

The Deeper Magic: Rebirth in All Its Forms

Whether you're casting spells or attending church, Ostara and Easter both celebrate the same underlying truth: death is not the end. New life springs forth. Light returns. Hope blooms.

• For Pagans, it's the Earth herself waking up.

• For Christians, it’s the soul awakening through Christ.

Both paths point to transformation—a resurrection of the spirit, whether through nature or the divine.

How to Honor Both

Feeling called to blend traditions or honor them side-by-side? Here are a few ways to celebrate the season mindfully:

• Decorate an altar with spring flowers, pastel colors, and symbols of both Ostara and Easter.

• Plant seeds, both literal and metaphorical, to represent your own personal rebirth.

• Host a feast that honors the season and invites loved ones to reflect on what’s blooming in their lives.

• Journal or meditate on the theme of resurrection. What part of you is ready to rise?

Dress for the Season You Want: Style as Spellwork

Your wardrobe isn’t just a closet—it’s a ritual tool, a mirror, and a portal. Spring is the season of blooming, rebirth, and reawakening. When you dress with intention, you’re not just picking out an outfit—you’re casting a spell for the energy you want to embody.

Here’s how to turn getting dressed into sacred self-expression:

1. Start With the Energy

Ask yourself: What do I want to call in this season?

• New love? Think soft, romantic fabrics and rose quartz accessories.

• Creative spark? Go bold with prints, color blocking, and statement pieces.

• Clarity or healing? Whites, blues, and flowy silhouettes can help reflect that vibration.

Let your style align with the spell you're working—even if it's just stepping into the day with purpose.

2. Choose Symbolic Colors

Color magic is powerful, and spring is full of life-giving tones. Use these as your palette:

• Pale pink – love, softness, inner child healing

• Sky blue – clarity, communication, peace

• Lavender – intuition, balance, self-compassion

• Green – abundance, new growth, heart energy

• Gold – solar power, confidence, resurrection

Pair colors with crystals or herbs for even more intention (like wearing green with moss agate or lavender with amethyst).

3. Play With Texture & Layers

Spring is all about the in-between—not quite warm, not quite cold. Use layers to symbolize your own unfolding:

• Lightweight cardigans = protection without restriction

• Sheer fabrics = vulnerability and transparency

• Lace and crochet = ancestral threads and softness

And don’t be afraid to mix textures like raw cotton and silk—contrast is part of the season. Honestly, it’s a favorite of mine year-round.

4. Accessorize With Archetype

Every goddess or archetype you channel can shape your accessories:

• Persephone vibes? Try a pomegranate charm or butterfly earrings.

• Ēostre energy? A flower crown or hare ring works like a sigil.

• Brigid's fire? Copper cuffs and fire opal bring her warmth into your look.

• Modern goddexx? Think celestial tattoos, moon-phase earrings, or even a bold, cosmic eyeliner.

Accessories aren’t extra—they’re totemic. Let them be your talismans.

5. Finish With Embodied Intention

Once you're dressed, pause. Breathe. Look at yourself like you would a temple altar.

Ask: What am I awakening today?
Let your outfit be a mirror of your magic, a love letter to the season, and a spell that walks with you.

Merge the Sacred & the Styled

You don’t have to choose between a witchy Ostara altar and Easter brunch with family. You can be the floral-draped enchantress who blesses her mimosa before sipping it. The goddess archetypes remind us that duality is divine—light and dark, sacred and mundane, rebirth and remembrance.

In the end, Ostara and Easter are not rivals but reflections. They both mirror humanity’s deep longing for light after darkness, life after death, and beauty after the barren stretch of winter.

So this spring, whether you're honoring Jesus' resurrection, planting seeds under a waxing moon, or just dressing up to feel alive again—know that you are the ritual.

When Forever Ends: How to Move On With Grace (Even When You Want to Set Everything on Fire)

You never think your forever will end. Not really. Not when you're standing in front of someone swearing to weather the storms together. Not when you're building a life around inside jokes, shared groceries, and the quiet comfort of someone always being there.

But sometimes, the most painful truth is also the most liberating: Forever doesn’t mean what you thought it did.

Maybe you grew apart.
Maybe you stopped being lovers and started being roommates.
Maybe the sex dried up, the dreams shifted, or the silence got louder than the “I love you.”

Whatever cracked your foundation, it hurt. And now you’re standing there, in the rubble, wondering if you should mourn, rebuild, or just walk the fuck away.

The Grief That No One Throws You a Funeral For

Here’s the thing about losing a relationship that didn’t technically end in fire and brimstone—it’s confusing as hell. There’s no villain. No betrayal. Just the ache of truth settling into your bones.

You still care. You might still love them. But staying would mean betraying yourself.

That’s the mindfuck, isn’t it? Breaking your own heart so you can save your soul.

And yeah, it deserves grief. Real, messy, mascara-running-into-your-coffee kind of grief. You’re allowed to cry. You’re allowed to be pissed. You’re allowed to swing between “maybe we can fix this” and “burn it all to the ground.”

But Grace? Grace Shows Up in the Exit.

Not the quiet, churchy kind of grace. I’m talking about sacred, screaming-through-the-wind, soul-aligned grace. The kind that doesn’t mean you're always calm—but that you're always honest.

Grace is choosing peace over pettiness, even when you could clap back. Grace is letting go of someone without making them the villain just to make it easier on your ego. Grace is knowing you were real, the love was real, and the ending doesn’t make it any less sacred.

So... How the Hell Do You Move On?

Here’s the truth: moving on doesn’t start with another person, a new haircut, or 47 affirmation memes (although yes, do all of those if they help). It starts with coming home to yourself.

Step 1: Stop Looking for Closure in Their Words

You don’t need their validation to let go. Closure is a solo journey, baby. Write your own ending. Ritualize it if you need to. Burn a damn letter under the moon.

Step 2: Let Yourself Be the Messy Bitch You Are

Cry. Rage. Dance it out in your living room at 2 a.m. You are not “too much”—you’re alive. There’s no “right way” to mourn the loss of a life you thought you’d always have.

Step 3: Use the Waning Moon Energy

You knew I’d go lunar on you. The waning moon is your cue to release all the crap that doesn’t serve: guilt, shame, old stories, and every “what if” that keeps you stuck. Ritual that shit. Make it sacred.

Step 4: Remember Who You Were Before Them

Not the scared version. Not the one who compromised. The YOU that danced barefoot under the stars and laughed too loud. She’s still in there. Go get her.

Step 5: Rebuild. But Slower Than You Think.

You don’t need to rush into your next “thing.” Let life flirt with you. Let the universe seduce you slowly. You’re not broken—you’re becoming.

Final Truth Bomb:

Losing someone you thought was forever doesn’t mean you failed.
It means you were brave enough to tell the truth.
It means you trusted your soul more than your comfort zone.
It means you said: “I deserve more than almost.”

And that, my beautiful badass, is grace.

WTF Is a Soul Contract (and What the Hell Did I Sign Up For?)

Picture this: you’re a soul just hanging out in the cosmic waiting room before your next Earth gig. It’s quiet, mysterious, and probably smells like sandalwood and destiny. Your Higher Self strolls in, holding what looks like a manila folder full of fine print and questionable life choices.

They look at you and say, “So, you ready for another round?” And you, in your infinite pre-human wisdom, are like:
“Sure. Give me some heartbreak, unresolved childhood wounds, and maybe a midlife awakening that feels like a nervous breakdown in a Target parking lot. Let’s go.”

Boom. That’s your soul contract.

So, what is a soul contract, really?

A soul contract is the spiritual agreement your soul makes before incarnating. It includes the life themes, relationships, challenges, and lessons you’ve decided to take on in this round of Earth School. Think of it like spiritual syllabus meets life obstacle course. It’s not a script, but more like a game plan. Think less "rigid fate," more "choose-your-own-adventure—but with karmic baggage."

You signed up to grow, to heal, to remember who the hell you are under all the human conditioning and self-doubt. And yep, you picked the people and themes that would help you evolve—even if, down here, it feels less like "evolution" and more like "WTF, Universe??"

You don’t remember signing it, but trust me—you were all in. Somewhere between your 5th incarnation and your last past life as a medieval herbalist with trust issues, you decided this life was going to be the one where you finally learn boundaries, self-worth, or how to not date emotionally unavailable circus clowns.

“Okay, but why would I agree to this garbage fire of a life?”

Because your soul is bold. Maybe even a little reckless. But mostly because you knew you could handle it. Growth doesn’t come from sitting on a beach sipping margaritas (though wouldn’t that be nice?). It comes from crawling out of your own darkness, swearing like a sailor, and realizing you’re stronger than the dumbfuckery that tried to break you.

You didn’t come here to be comfortable. You came here to evolve. And sometimes, that looks like ugly crying in your car after setting one boundary and wondering if you’re the villain (spoiler: you’re not). Growth happens in the tension. The breakdowns. The “I can’t do this anymore” moments that later become “Holy crap, look how far I’ve come.”

How do you know what you signed up for?

Ah, the million-dollar question. This is where it gets fun—well, fun in a “self-inquiry mixed with existential unraveling” kind of way. You won’t find your soul contract printed out on your nightstand, but you can start decoding it with a little awareness and some real talk.

Here’s how to start figuring it out:

1. Look at your repeat patterns

You keep ending up in the same kind of relationship, or the same job dynamic, or feeling the same damn “not good enough” vibe no matter what you do? That’s not bad luck. That’s your soul contract saying, “Hey, are you ready to learn this yet or do I need to send another walking red flag your way?”

2. Examine your deepest emotional wounds

The wounds you carry—abandonment, betrayal, being silenced or overlooked—often point directly to the core lessons your soul chose to heal and integrate in this life. They’re not random. They’re sacred curriculum… that sometimes feels like a horror film.

3. Check your birth chart (for extra credit)

If you’re into astrology, your birth chart is basically your soul contract in cryptic symbol code. The 12th house? Karmic baggage. Saturn? Hard life lessons. North Node? Your soul’s growth direction. That chart isn’t just woo-woo wallpaper—it’s a freaking map.

4. Pay attention to your most profound connections

Soul contracts often include other souls you’ve tangled with before. Not always the warm-and-fuzzy ones. I’m talking about the ones who cracked you open, woke you up, or pissed you off so much that you finally changed. Soulmates, karmic partners, and those hard-to-love family members? Yeah, they’re on the contract too.

Can I revise the damn thing?

You sure as hell can. Soul contracts aren’t set in stone. They evolve with you. If you’ve done the work—owned your truth, faced your shadows, stopped dating people who treat you like an emotional food truck—then congratulations, you’ve probably completed some lessons. You don’t have to repeat the same lessons forever. That’s karmic masochism, not growth. You get to call in new experiences now.

So if you’re done with the struggle, say it out loud:
“I am ready to release the lessons I’ve already learned. I now call in expansion, joy, and clarity.”
(And maybe toss some salt and burn an old journal page for flair.)

Your soul contract is your blueprint, not your prison.

So the next time you’re in the middle of yet another spiritual plot twist, just remember: you chose this path for a reason. And even if you’re crawling through it with coffee breath and unresolved trauma, you’re still doing the thing.

You’re here. You’re healing. And you’re way more powerful than you think.

Welcome to Earth School. Your next lesson starts now.

Lalita Tripura Sundari for the Modern Hot Mess: A Guide to Channeling the Red Goddess in a Venti-Sized World

So, you woke up this morning, spilled your cold brew on your "That’s What She Said" tee, cried about your ex's Spotify playlist, and thought, “Wow, I really need to embody a transcendent cosmic goddess today.” Good news: Lalita’s got you.

Lalita Tripura Sundari—aka the Red Goddess, aka Miss Divine Hot Girl Energy—is not your average deity. She’s the ultimate trifecta: beauty, power, and dangerous levels of self-awareness. Her name means “The Beautiful One of the Three Cities,” and if that doesn’t scream “She’s got a group chat in every timezone,” I don’t know what does.

She’s red because she represents desire and vitality. She's got a bow made of sugarcane (sweet, but will still end you), arrows of flowers (deadly and aesthetic), a noose (to capture your attention and your daddy issues), and a goad (to poke you out of your own existential dread).

How to Embody Her in a Starbucks-Addled Existence:

1. Channel Divine Beauty (No Filter Needed): Lalita radiates 16-year-old goddess energy—but not in a creepy Benjamin Button way. It’s about vitality. So, put on your good lip gloss. Say your mantras. Post that thirst trap for you.

2. Control the Chaos: Lalita holds the mind and the senses in her cute little hands. Meanwhile, you can’t even hold your bladder during a long Target run. Time to tighten up. Get mindful. Gaze into your Sri Yantra—or like, a fancy candle—and remember you are both the dream and the dreamer.

3. Weaponize Desire: She’s not ashamed of her power or her cravings. So go ahead—crave. Text your situationship on purpose. Order that Frappuccino with extra whip like the divine warrior of sweetness you are.

4. Worship Yourself Like It’s a Full Moon in Leo: Read her thousand names (or just write affirmations in your Notes app). Make your mirror your temple. If someone doesn’t understand your divinity, unmatch them.

5. Destroy Bhandasura (a.k.a. Your Inner Critic): She slayed a demon born from burnt love. You can handle one little brain gremlin saying you’re cringe for posting a spiritual thirst trap on Instagram. Delete. Block. Meditate.

Final Thoughts While Reapplying Lip Balm:

Lalita isn’t about being “perfect.” She’s about being everything. All at once. Beautiful, terrifying, wise, sweet, and covered in metaphorical glitter and blood. Not literal glitter…unless you’re into that. You do you.

So sip your overpriced potion. Swipe through your dating apps like they're flower arrows. And remember: you’re not just strutting around in thigh-high boots—you’re invoking divine chaos with every step. You're channeling the Red Goddess herself.

Slay, Tripura Sundari. Slay.

Mirror Work: How to Face Yourself (Literally) and Not Cringe

Let’s talk about Mirror Work—the deeply uncomfortable, occasionally magical practice of looking yourself dead in the eye and saying things like, “I love you,” out loud. To your own face. On purpose.

Sounds like some self-help cult shit, right?

Welcome to the awkward, tear-filled, brutally honest corner of shadow work you didn’t know you needed. Whether you’re new to the whole healing thing or have been deep-diving into your trauma since Myspace was a thing, Mirror Work will crack you open in ways that might piss you off at first... but then it starts to change everything.

So, What Is Mirror Work?

In plain English? You stand in front of a mirror, look yourself in the eyes—really look—and speak truth out loud. Affirmations. Apologies. Grief. Praise. Whatever needs to come through. You say it. To you.

This practice was made famous by Louise Hay, the matriarch of affirmations and emotional healing. But let’s be honest—you don’t need a Hay House contract or a Pinterest altar to do this. Just a mirror, a moment, and the courage to get a little raw.

Why the Hell Would Anyone Do This?

Because your inner critic has been narrating your life like a drunk Mean Girl with a megaphone, and your inner child is still curled up waiting to hear “you’re enough.” Mirror Work doesn’t just change how you think about yourself—it rewires how you speak to yourself. Out loud. Which, turns out, hits different.

It helps you:

• Build real self-love (not the filtered, post-worthy kind)

• Talk to your inner child like the badass parent you never had

• Reprogram the lies you’ve been sold about your worth

• Face your shadow without flinching

• Unlock your voice and finally say the damn thing

And weirdly enough, after a while, you start feeling less like a hot mess and more like Beth Dutton on a healing journey—still a little dangerous, but finally softening.

How to Actually Do Mirror Work (Without Crawling Out of Your Skin)

Here’s your no-fluff, no-flower-crowns guide to getting started:

1. Pick a Mirror

Handheld, bathroom, bedroom—whatever works. Clean it off. You're not doing sacred inner work next to toothpaste splatter.

2. Set the Vibe (Optional)

Light a candle. Throw on a moody playlist. Or don’t. This doesn’t need to look pretty—just feel intentional.

3. Look Into Your Eyes

Not your eyebrows. Not your hair. Not your chin. Your eyes. That’s where your soul’s been waiting for you.

4. Speak Aloud

Say the thing. Then say it again. Start with affirmations if you’re not ready for the deep stuff. Try:

• “I love and accept you exactly as you are.”

• “You are safe now.”

• “You didn’t deserve what happened to you.”

• “I forgive you.”

• “You are not too much. You are powerful.”

It’s gonna feel weird. Say it anyway.

5. Stay With It

Start with 2 minutes. That’s it. You can handle 120 seconds of mild internal screaming. Eventually, you’ll crave it. (No, seriously.)

Want to Sync With the Moon? Hell Yes You Do.

If you’re gonna go full ritual, why not bring the moon into it? She’s been doing emotional work longer than any of us.

New Moon

Theme: Self-Acceptance & Planting Seeds
Say: “I am open to becoming who I’m meant to be.”
Ask: What part of me is ready to emerge?

First Quarter

Theme: Courage & Resistance
Say: “I am done shrinking to fit in.”
Ask: What’s keeping me small?

Full Moon

Theme: Release & Radiance
Say: “I am allowed to shine.”
Ask: What am I still hiding—and why?

Last Quarter

Theme: Forgiveness & Integration
Say: “I forgive myself for not knowing what I didn’t know.”
Ask: What pain am I ready to lay down?

Pair It With Journaling (Because Emotional Receipts Are Hot)

If you’re already cracked open, might as well write some shit down. Try these prompts:

• What came up when I looked into my eyes today?

• What did I not want to say out loud?

• What part of me is still scared to be seen?

• What would I tell younger-me if she appeared in the mirror right now?

• What truth do I need to hear most often?

Final Pep Talk (The Beth Dutton Way)

Mirror Work is awkward, gritty, and often uncomfortable. But so is becoming someone who actually loves themselves.

This isn’t about being “high vibe” or manifesting your dream life with perfect lipstick and a blue check mark on IG. This is about showing up for yourself when no one else does. It’s about locking eyes with the one person who’s been with you through it all—and choosing them, again and again.

So stand there. Say the damn thing. And if your voice cracks? Good. That means it’s working.

Just don’t be surprised if, somewhere along the way, you start becoming a little more unshakable. A little more honest. A little more... you.

Beth would be proud.
(And she’d probably pour you a whiskey to celebrate—even if all you want is tea.)

Is This Thing On? How to Tell if Meditation Is Actually Helping You (No Bullshit Edition)

So you finally caved and tried meditating. Maybe you lit a candle. Maybe you sat on your floor and stared at the wall like a haunted Victorian ghost. Either way—welcome to the club. 

It’s awkward at first, right? Sitting with yourself. No distractions. No scrolling. Just you and your brain… which apparently has zero chill. And now you’re left wondering: “Is this even doing anything? Am I just sitting here, marinating in my own anxiety for ten minutes a day?”

I get it. I felt the same way. 

I didn’t exactly slide into meditation with grace. I have the kind of brain that overthinks my overthinking. Stillness of body? Easy. I can lie there like a corpse in a murder mystery. But my mind? A nonstop circus, complete with clowns and fire jugglers.

But I decided to give the Waking Up app a shot. I’m not even kidding—by the seventh session, something flipped in my brain. It wasn’t some big mystical experience where I floated off into the cosmos or unlocked my third eye. It was subtle, but powerful. I started catching myself in the act of spiraling. Instead of mentally swan-diving into stress, I could pause. Breathe. Choose.

Meditation didn’t make my life perfect. But it gave me space—between me and the chaos, between a trigger and my reaction, between my thoughts and the assumption that I had to believe all of them. And that space? Life-changing. I didn’t stop getting anxious. I just stopped assuming my anxiety was always right. I didn’t stop thinking too much—I just started noticing the thoughts before they dragged me face-first into doom.

Eventually, I realized I was yelling less at traffic. I wasn’t as quick to pop off. I caught myself in the middle of a mental tantrum and thought, “Wow, look at me spiraling. Cute. Not.” That level of awareness alone felt like winning.

And here’s the weirdest part—I started looking forward to it. Not the sit-on-a-cushion part. Not the trying-to-breathe-and-not-panic part. But the stillness. Not of my body (again, my body’s been pretty damn still since the womb), but the stillness in my mind. The hush that creeps in when I stop chasing every thought like a hyper dog after a squirrel.

Because here’s the thing that no one really tells you at first: 
The goal of meditation isn’t to stop thinking altogether. Good luck with that. Your brain’s job is to think—just like your lungs breathe and your heart beats. The goal is to notice your thoughts. All of them. The boring ones, the angry ones, the sad ones, the spicy ones you wouldn’t admit to your therapist.

And when you notice them, you realize something big: 
Just because a thought pops into your head doesn’t mean it’s true. You don’t have to believe it, follow it, or give it the keys to your entire nervous system. You can just say, “Huh. That’s a thought,” and let it drift by like your drunk Uncle Cletus at a wedding. No need to engage. That’s the power of meditation. It’s not about becoming some peaceful robot. It’s about learning to sit with your messy-ass brain and go, “I see you. I don’t have to obey you.”

So if you’ve been wondering whether your meditation practice is actually doing anything, here’s your sign. You don’t need to levitate. You don’t need to feel “zen” (bonus points if you do). You just need to notice—maybe you’re slightly less reactive, slightly more patient, slightly more capable of sitting with your feelings without needing to escape them instantly.

And that, my friend, is the magic. Keep sitting. Keep noticing. Even when it’s boring. Even when it feels pointless. That quiet shift? That subtle pause? It’s everything. And if all else fails—just remember: you’re one meditation away from not throat-punching someone today and catching a charge. That’s a win.

Now go meditate. Your circus performers can wait.

It’s Freya’s Day, Bitch: Channeling the Goddess Who Actually Deserves a Whole Week

Let’s set something straight real quick: Friday isn’t named after your boss’s casual blazer or some cute alliteration in a sales email. It’s not “Finance Friday” or “Fitness Friday” or even “Freaky Friday” (though Freya wouldn’t totally hate that one).
No.
Friday is Freya’s Day—and I’m convinced most of us are doing it completely wrong.

Because Freya? She was not the type to coast into the weekend in sad leggings, sipping lukewarm coffee and texting a walking red flag out of boredom. She wouldn’t be doom-scrolling her way through existential dread. She’d be dancing barefoot on the bones of her exes and seducing fate itself.

In Norse mythology, Freya reigns as the goddess of love, sex, war, beauty, death, and sorcery—a job description so stacked it makes modern “girlbossing” look like child’s play. She’s equal parts siren and general, sorceress and sovereign. And if that sounds like a contradiction? Good. Freya is here to remind you that you are allowed to be many things. Messy, magical, moody, magnificent—all at once.

So who is she, really?
Freya’s the kind of divine force who rides a chariot pulled by giant cats and wears a falcon-feather cloak that lets her fly between worlds. She’s also the first to master seiðr, an ancient Norse magic so powerful even Odin had to learn it from her. (Yes, the Allfather had to humble himself and ask a woman for mystical training. We are so here for it.)

She presides over Fólkvangr, her own elite version of the afterlife, where half of the honored dead go—not just to Valhalla, thank you very much. That’s right. Freya doesn’t just get the lovers. She gets the warriors, too.

And yet, despite all her glory, she's often reduced to “that sexy goddess from Thor comics” or slapped on some cottagecore aesthetic without any of the edge. Freya is not soft-focus femininity. She’s glamour with grit. She cries golden tears, not because she's fragile, but because her grief is alchemical. She turns sorrow into treasure, longing into power. Show me a therapist who can do that.

So what would Freya actually do—if she were living this very Friday in your body, with your schedule, and your questionable group chat?

She wouldn’t ask permission. She wouldn’t wait for the “right moment.” She’d take the damn moment, light it on fire, and walk through it in stilettos or well-worn Docs (dealer’s choice). Freya wouldn’t hide her pleasure to seem more “palatable.” She’d command a room with her presence and leave the insecure trembling in her wake.

She’d tell you to stop apologizing for wanting what you want. She’d remind you that your intuition is not just valid—it’s divine. And she'd laugh—actually laugh—if you told her you were shrinking yourself for the comfort of people who can barely look you in the eye.

If you want to honor Freya today—and you should, because she’s everything—don’t just light a candle and call it a vibe. Channel her. Become her. Even if just for one delicious, rebellious, unapologetic day.

Wear something that makes you feel like a spell. Whisper your desires into your coffee like you're enchanting it. Make pleasure your ritual, power your perfume, and boundaries the velvet rope around your divine energy. Cry if you need to. Laugh too loud. Take up space. Let your magic leak out everywhere.

Freya never asked to be liked. She demanded to be remembered. So go ahead—make this Friday the kind of day the old gods would toast to. One where your heart is open, your will is sharp, and your vibe is just a little too much for small minds.

Because Freya wouldn’t just celebrate the weekend.
She’d conquer it.

How Feminism Ruined Femininity (and Why I’m Taking It Back)

Let’s get one thing clear before I get canceled in three languages: I’m not anti-feminist. I’m anti-confusion. Somewhere between “burn the bras” and “boss bitch your way to burnout” femininity got shoved into a dusty corner like your grandma’s lace doilies—and not in a cute vintage way.

What used to be sacred, powerful, and intuitive got branded weak, regressive, or internalized patriarchy. And honestly? That’s not it.

The Original Feminist Vibe Check

Remember when feminism was about voting, not dying in childbirth, and being allowed to have a credit card or own property without a husband-slash-overlord? Those were the days. The first and second waves weren’t anti-femininity—they were pro-agency. These women weren’t trying to be men. They just didn’t want to be legally classified as decorative houseplants.

But fast-forward to modern feminism, and suddenly we’re all supposed to be high-achieving, hyper-independent, emotionally bulletproof, and allergic to lace. Cool story, but not everyone wants to be a CEO with no nervous system.

When Soft Became Stupid

We’ve been taught that to be taken seriously, we have to shut down our softness. Harden up. Toughen up. Man up. But here’s the thing: softness is not weakness. It’s an act of resistance in a world that rewards emotional numbness.

Softness used to be sacred. Now it’s seen as a liability. Crying? Weak. Nurturing? Oppressed. Wearing pink? Brainwashed. Baking a damn casserole? Are you even a feminist?! Miss me with that logic.

Masculine Mimicry ≠ Empowerment

Plot twist: you don’t become powerful by playing by the rules of the very system you’re trying to escape. But here we are, stuck in the “if you can’t beat ’em, become them” energy. Hustling, grinding, suppressing, competing. We didn’t dismantle the system—we just learned to play by its rules. Be louder. Hustle harder. Compete more. Swallow your feelings. Win at all costs. Look like a girl, work like a man, bring home the bacon and never let ‘em see you sweat.

That’s not empowerment. That’s exhaustion in sensible shoes.

Femininity isn’t weak—it just doesn’t bow to capitalist productivity culture. So instead of integrating it, society labeled it extra, frivolous, and outdated. The joke’s on them, though—because feminine energy isn’t going anywhere. She’s just been in exile, sharpening her nails.

Equality Got Confused With Erasure

We asked for a seat at the table, and were told we had to chop off our softness, ditch our skirts, and lower our voices to get it. That’s not equality. That’s assimilation. Equality shouldn’t mean becoming a man in lipstick—it should mean bringing everything we are to the table and being respected for it.

The worst part? The pendulum swing made women police each other. Suddenly, if you love homemaking, wear lipstick, or talk about your moon cycle, you’re not “woke” enough. Internalized misogyny in a crop top. Cute.

The Return of the Sacred

But here’s the good news: the pendulum is swinging back.

We’re seeing the slow, delicious rebellion of women reclaiming femininity on their own damn terms. Not for approval, not for tradition—but because their bodies, hearts, and spirits are starving for it. The rise of divine feminine energy, cyclical living, sensuality practices, slow rituals, and softness isn’t a trend—it’s a collective exhale.

Femininity isn’t dead. She’s just been buried under decades of shame and survival. And now? Now she’s coming home.

Turns out, being a woman isn’t a problem to solve. It’s a magic to remember. Softness. Pleasure. Slowness. Intuition. Sensuality. Rest. Ritual. Cycles. Community. Beauty. The Divine. The messy, magical, tender power that lives in our bones.

Femininity Myths We Need to Torch (Get the Matches)

1. “Femininity is just for straight cis women.”
Wrong. Femininity is an energy, not a costume. Anyone can embody it. Men can be incredibly nurturing.

2. “If you like pretty things, you’re shallow.”
Pretty isn’t the problem. Patriarchy’s inability to value it is.

3. “Femininity = submission.”
Nope. Femininity is receptive, not passive. And she can say no with a smile that cuts like a dagger.

4. “Real feminists don’t care about looks.”
False. You can smash the patriarchy in a silk robe and a smoky eye if that’s your vibe.

5. “Femininity is outdated.”
Tell that to the moon. She’s been cycling in power since forever.

10 Things That Are Feminine AF (and Not a Single One Is Weak)

1. Crying – Releasing emotion through tears is literally one of the healthiest, most cathartic things you can do. You know what’s weak? Emotional constipation.

2. Saying “no” without explaining yourself – Boundaries = self-respect.

3. Resting – Rest is resistance. Especially in a world that equates worth with output. A nap is a sleepy “fuck you” to grind culture.

4. Making your space beautiful – Beauty is soul nourishment. Whether it’s altars, flower arrangements, or just lighting a damn candle—curating beauty is an act of sacred reverence, not vanity.

5. Being intuitive – That gut feeling? That’s ancient wisdom. Femininity whispers, and the brave listen.

6. Caring deeply – We live in a time where apathy is armor. To care? To feel? To love fiercely? Radical.

7. Being sensual without being sexual – Femininity knows the difference. And it doesn’t perform for anyone’s approval.

8. Moving slow – Slow isn’t lazy. Slow is intentional. Slow is sacred.

9. Creating life—in any form – Yes, babies. But also ideas, art, gardens, communities. Femininity births. That’s divine AF.

10. Holding contradictions – You can be wild and grounded, soft and strong, nurturing and fierce.

Final Thoughts (And a Little Call to Arms)

Let’s be clear—feminism didn’t set out to ruin femininity. But some interpretations of it? Some waves, some voices, some attempts at equality that confused sameness with liberation? Yeah, they did some damage. The truth? Feminism tried to free us—but it didn’t always know what to do with our softness, our sensuality, our cyclical magic.

So no, I’m not trying to go backward. I’m not romanticizing oppression. I’m saying we deserve a version of femininity that’s ours. On our terms. Unapologetic. Unfiltered. Unbothered.

You want to reclaim your softness? Your sensuality? Your cyclical nature? Your rose petals, your moon water, your tears, your sacred rage?

Do it. That’s the most feminist thing you can do.

And here’s a truth no one seems ready to admit: even if they can’t always name it—or even recognize it—men are starving for true femininity. Not the polished performance, not the submissive script, not the Instagrammable trophy vibes. That’s what they’ve been told to want. But it’s not what feeds them. I will address this topic in a separate blog.

APRIL ENERGY READING: MOVE THROUGH YOUR FEAR & LIGHT THE DAMN MATCH

April’s vibe? Tender and electric. Sweet and savage. This month, Spirit isn’t just whispering — it’s handing you the torch and daring you to burn down the illusions that keep you small.

Here’s what came through in the cards:

• (Not telling — you’ve got to read on. Suspense, babe.)

• Oracle message: “Move Through Your Fear.”

Let’s peel back the layers of this cosmic soul story:

6 of Cups: A Smoke Signal From the Past You Buried

April kicks off with a nostalgic gut-punch — the 6 of Cups shows up like a smoke signal from your younger self, asking: remember who the hell you were before the world started dimming your light? This isn't a “let’s wallow in the past” moment. It’s a go back and get your magic mission.

This card calls you to reclaim the joy, the weirdness, the raw emotional roots that still hum beneath all the noise. The art you never made. The dream you shelved. The version of you that felt alive before shame showed up with a checklist.

Ask it:
✨ What did I abandon to fit in?
✨ What still haunts me in the best way?

7 of Cups: A Wild Mirage of Maybes

Next, we stumble into the 7 of Cups — aka the fantasy funhouse. Endless options. Glittering distractions. So many shiny things that might be the thing... but also might just be a trap wrapped in dopamine.

You’re standing in a vortex of possibility — but here’s the catch: not every door is meant for you. Some of them are just dressed-up detours. You already know which one’s calling you. The one that makes your stomach flip and your heart race and your logic scream “that’s risky.” Yeah. That one.

Ask it:
✨ What am I pretending not to want?
✨ Which option feels like truth — not just comfort?

Ace of Wands: Strike the Match

And then, boom. The Ace of Wands enters like a cosmic ignition switch. The spark is here. It’s raw, it’s hot, and it doesn’t come with a manual.

You don’t need a 12-step plan right now — you need nerve. That whisper that’s been echoing in your chest? It's real. The Ace doesn’t care if you’re ready — it just asks if you’re willing to light the damn match.

This is your sign. Go write the thing. Start the project. Send the risky text. Take the step that scares you and thrills you at the same time.

Ask it:
✨ What’s the fire I keep trying to smother?
✨ What would I do if I didn’t need it to be perfect?

The Wheel: Spin or Be Spun

And underneath it all? The Wheel. Oh, babe — fate’s got its hands on the dial.

This card doesn’t ask for control. It asks for surrender with style. Life is shifting. Cycles are closing. Karma’s collecting its receipts. But don’t get it twisted — this isn’t about luck. It’s about alignment. The more you trust the movement, the more magic meets you.

So stop waiting for the “right moment.” The Wheel turns either way. You can ride it… or you can get dragged.

Ask it:
✨ Where is life trying to move me forward, but I keep resisting?
✨ What happens if I trust the plot twist?

Oracle Message: Move Through Your Fear

The final mic drop from Spirit? Move. Through. Your. Fear.

Not around it. Not when it's convenient. Not once you feel “ready.” Right now. With the shaky voice and the bubble guts and the wild hope that it might just work.

Fear is the doorman to your next life. You want it? Walk through.

Journal Prompts for the Real Ones

• What version of me have I buried that wants resurrection?

• Which fantasy am I chasing just to avoid the real risk?

• What does my fire want to do — and what keeps me caging it?

• If I believed in divine timing, how would I show up differently right now?

Mini Ritual: Fear Release + Fire Spark

1. Light a candle — any size, any color. Just let it burn.

2. Write down every fear that’s been tripping you up. No editing.

3. Burn that list (safely — I’m not trying to manifest a house fire).

4. Say out loud: “Fear is not the boss of me.”

5. Then do one bold thing that your future self will thank you for.

This month isn’t asking you to have it all figured out. It’s asking you to show up anyway. To walk toward the spark. To flirt with your fear. To trust that what’s meant for you can find you — but only if you stop hiding.

April wants your fire.
Let it burn.

Synchronicity: Like Quantum Physics and Spirituality Had a Baby

Those “WTF Just Happened?” Moments the Universe Keeps Dropping Like Easter Eggs

You ever have one of those moments where reality pulls a fast one on you? You’re thinking about someone you haven’t seen since Lollapalooza ‘91 and—bam—they pop up in your inbox. Or you’re stuck in traffic, questioning your life choices, when a license plate in front of you says STAYCALM.

Welcome to synchronicity—those mind-bending, totally unexplainable moments when the universe pops up like a late-night rerun that hits way too close to home. It’s like if quantum physics and spirituality got drunk, hooked up at a Smashing Pumpkins concert, and had a beautiful, weird baby.

WTF Is Synchronicity?

Back in the day, Jung—the guy doing shadow work before it was trending—called it “synchronicity”: those eerie little moments that don’t technically connect, but sure as hell feel like they do.

It’s not just random. It’s personal. Like the universe is curating content just for you.

Think: Spotify, but instead of music, it's moments that slap you right in the psyche.

Quantum Physics Enters the Chat

Science doesn’t usually play nice with woo. But quantum physics? It’s the rebel. The punk kid at the back of class lighting up a cigarette and muttering, “Reality is an illusion, man.”

We’re talking:

• Particles that are in two places at once

• Stuff that doesn’t exist until you look at it

• Two things connected across space like psychic twins

Basically, the more you look at the nature of reality, the more it starts to look like your stoner friend Kyle was onto something all along.

Actual “You Can’t Make This Shit Up” Moments

Let’s talk about the good stuff—those moments that make you look around like you’re being punk’d by the universe:

• You’re spiraling about money, and someone randomly Cash Apps you for the drinks you forgot you covered at Happy Hour last Thursday.

• You think, “I should call my sister,” and your TV freezes on the word “SISTER.”

• You ask for a sign and see a black crow, a heart-shaped rock, and a sticker that says “YOU ARE EXACTLY WHERE YOU NEED TO BE” all before lunch.

These aren’t glitches. They’re breadcrumbs. Cosmic nudges. The universe saying, “Hey, I see you. And no, you’re not crazy.”

Okay But… What Do You Do With This?

1. Pause. Don’t just scroll past it like it’s a cringey Facebook memory. Feel it.

2. Zoom Out. What were you just thinking? What were you wrestling with? The universe responds to your energy.

3. Write It Down. Start a Synchronicity Log. Bonus points for sarcasm and doodles.

4. Play Along. Follow the thread. Say yes to the coffee invite. Pull a tarot card. Google that weird phrase you overheard at the gas station.

Why It Hits Different Now

If you’re Gen X, like me, we grew up watching institutions crumble, flipping between MTV and VH1, and learning how to laugh through chaos. So yeah, we’re skeptics. But we also know magic when we see it.

Synchronicity isn’t about blind faith. It’s about deep recognition. Pattern. Resonance. It’s the universe looking you dead in the eye and saying, “You paying attention now?”

Final Thought: Reality Might Be Weirder Than You, and That’s Saying Something

So when synchronicity shows up—don’t shrug it off. Light a candle. Raise an eyebrow. Whisper "holy shit" with reverence and gratitude. Because whether it’s quantum mechanics or spiritual mechanics, something out there is vibing with you. And honestly? That’s pretty dope.

True Power is Self-Control: Energies to Anchor Your Strength

We live in a world that praises the loudest voice in the room. The boldest comeback. The most dominant presence. As a Gen X'er, this is in our DNA.

But here’s something I’ve learned — often the hard way:

Real power isn’t loud. It’s self-control.

It's knowing how to hold your energy without flinging it everywhere like a monkey with their steaming feces. It's knowing when to speak and when silence is the sharpest sword you’ve got. It’s emotional discipline — not suppression, but discernment.

And it’s been the most liberating shift in my personal growth journey.

My Turning Point: Saying Less, Holding More

There was a version of me that believed I had to explain myself to be understood. That speaking more made me look strong, that arguing back meant I wasn’t being walked over.

I’d burn my energy trying to prove my point — overthinking texts, typing out paragraphs, replaying conversations in my head. Sound familiar?

But at some point… I started feeling tired. Not just physically — energetically. I was bleeding power — like a thousand paper cuts to my soul, each one sharper than the last, until I was standing in an energetic puddle of my own undoing.

So I tried something different. I started saying less. Holding more. Observing more than reacting. And at first? It felt unnatural. Like I was letting people "win." But it wasn’t about them — it was about reclaiming me.

The more I embraced silence, the louder my presence became.

I stopped justifying myself. Stopped over-explaining. Stopped talking myself out of my own knowing. And I could feel the shift — in my body, in my nervous system, in my energy field. In my relationships.

I had more clarity. More peace. More power. Saying less gave me more. More space to listen to my intuition. More energy to pour into what actually matters.

Now, I don’t rush to respond. I don’t fight to be understood. I don’t react on command. I choose my energy. I protect my peace. And that, my loves, is a whole frequency.

Energies to Work With for Embodied Power

Shadow of the Inner Tyrant

This inner archetype shows up when I’m triggered — that urge to clap back, dominate the convo, or "win" an argument.

How I work with it:
- I sit with the question: “What part of me is afraid right now?”
- I invoke Lilith energy — not to explode, but to walk away rooted in my worth.

New Moon Energy

Every new moon, I reset my boundaries. I realign with my why.

My ritual:
- I write one intention: “My energy is mine to command.”
- I light a black candle and sit in stillness — not doing, just being.

Solar Plexus Chakra

When I started choosing silence, I had to rebuild my relationship with confidence — not performative confidence, but internal strength.

Support tools I love:
- Solar plexus breathwork (inhale into the belly, exhale with a slow hum)
- Citrine on my altar
- Daily mantra: “My calm is my strength.”

Autumn Energy

Autumn is the season that taught me to release. The trees don’t argue — they just let go. And so can we.

Simple practice:
- I take barefoot walks and literally imagine my stress falling off me like leaves.
- I journal what I’m releasing: “I release the need to prove myself. I return to stillness.”

Final Word: Stillness Is a Spell

Self-control isn’t about bottling things up. It’s about learning to hold yourself — even in the heat. Especially in the heat.

It’s mastery. It’s energy sovereignty. And it’s how you stop living in reaction mode and start living in ritual. Because your peace is sacred. Your silence is spellwork. And your true power? It never begs to be seen — it radiates.

The following is what I repeat to myself multiple times per day, and is included in my Mind Movie that I watch morning and night without fail:

I have sovereignty over my own energy.
Only what is for my highest good may enter my field.
All else is returned to its source with love.

Cosmic Confidence Boost

We’ve got a whole orange situation happening here? That’s some fiery, sacral-chakra, creative, go-getter energy right there. The universe is screaming a theme at us.

Gratitude for the Past (Intuitive Whispers Oracle)

The past may have been a wild ride, but guess what? You made it. And now, with all this orange energy around, the universe is basically handing you a gold star and saying, "Be grateful, but also—keep that fire burning." Orange is the color of passion, creativity, and bold moves, so whatever lessons you’ve learned, it’s time to channel them into something fresh and exciting.

The Cosmic Egg (Divine Feminine Oracle)

An orange Cosmic Egg? That’s like the universe’s way of saying, “Hey, you’re incubating something BIG.” This isn’t just a casual transformation—it’s a fiery, sacral-charged, ready-to-hatch new beginning. Your creative and intuitive energy is through the roof right now, so don’t sit on those ideas. Trust the process, but also know when to crack the shell and get moving.

The Lion (Power Animals Oracle)

Orange Lion energy? This is not the time for playing small. The lion is already fierce, but paired with the color orange? That’s full-on unstoppable confidence mode. Think of it as the universe handing you a crown and saying, “Wear it, rule it, own it.” You’re being called to step into your power with courage and charisma—and maybe a little dramatic flair. Walk in like you belong there, because you do.

22 Intuition (Numerology Deck)

Intuition + the color orange = a highly charged creative awakening. The number 22 is all about building something meaningful, and with this fiery hue surrounding you, your gut instincts are practically glowing with wisdom. Your sacral chakra (home of emotions, creativity, and gut feelings) is lit up like a Karen at customer service. Translation? Follow the pull. That random idea? That weird dream? That “I should totally do this” moment? DO IT. Orange isn’t the color of hesitation—it’s the color of movement.

Final Vibes:

With all this orange energy, this spread is practically screaming: Create. Move. Express. Lead. You’re being called to step up, trust yourself, and take action on something that truly matters to you. Whether it’s a personal passion, a career move, or a bold life shift, you have the confidence, creativity, and courage to make it happen.

So, go forth, sacral-chakra warrior, and light up the world with your bold, bad-ass, orange-glowing greatness.

What the Hell Is Shadow Work—and How Do You Know If You're Even Doing It Right?

Let’s just get this out of the way: shadow work sounds like something out of a moody vampire fanfic. And honestly? It kind of is. Except instead of making out with a sexy, brooding immortal, you’re forced to confront your inner gremlins, unpack your childhood trauma, and admit that maybe—just maybe—you’re the one being a little toxic sometimes.

Welcome to the wild ride of shadow work: where healing gets messy, self-awareness comes with some ego death, and personal growth sometimes looks like crying on the floor next to three empty coffee cups (or White Claw cans) and a tarot card you don’t fully understand.

Let’s break it down. No fluff, no fake-deep Instagram quotes. Just the truth, with a salty rim.

Okay, So What Is Shadow Work?

Shadow work is basically the process of dragging your emotional baggage out from the dusty corners of your subconscious and saying, “Alright, what the fuck is in here?”

It’s the not-so-glamorous side of self-help. The part where you stop pretending you’re a ray of sunshine 24/7 and actually look at the parts of yourself you’ve shoved into the metaphorical junk drawer. You know—the anger, the jealousy, the people-pleasing, the passive aggression, the tendency to lose your shit when someone chews too loudly.

The “shadow” is all the stuff you’ve been taught is unacceptable. And instead of continuing to bury it like a cat covering a turd in the litter box, shadow work says: Let’s dig that shit up. Let’s look at it. Let’s heal it.

Spoiler Alert: Your Shadow Isn’t a Villain

Hot take: those parts of you you think are “bad”? They’re probably just hurting.

• Your procrastination? Might be your nervous system begging for a damn break.

• That envy you hate feeling? Could be pointing to a dream you’ve been too scared to own.

• Your anger? Might be trying to defend your boundaries that you keep letting people bulldoze.

The shadow isn’t evil. It’s misunderstood. And it’s been screaming into the void for your attention. Shadow work is finally listening.

“But How Do I Know If I’m Doing It Right?”

Ah yes, the classic question from the overachieving part of you that wants a gold star for healing.

Look, shadow work isn’t a BuzzFeed quiz. There’s no “You got: Fully Integrated Goddess of the Void!” result screen. But here are some signs that you're not just spiritually doom-scrolling—you’re actually doing the damn thing:

1. You start noticing your triggers before you spiral

Someone pisses you off, and instead of launching into a rage blackout or emotional shutdown, you pause and go, “Huh. That hit a nerve. Why tho?” Growth.

2. You stop blaming everyone else for your shit

Instead of pointing fingers, you start asking, “What is this showing me about myself?” Ugh, accountability. Rude—but necessary.

3. You feel kinda gross, kinda free

Shadow work is not a spa day. It’s more like emotional CrossFit. You might feel raw, tired, and over it—but also oddly empowered.

4. You’re kinder to yourself (finally)

You stop trash-talking your own mind like it’s your worst ex. You start saying things like, “It makes sense I reacted that way.” Look at you. Healing.

5. Your relationships shift (or implode—both are valid)

Turns out, when you stop being a people-pleasing doormat or projecting your unprocessed wounds onto your friends, things change. Some people will vibe with the new you. Others might nope out. Let ‘em.

Reminder: You’re Not Gonna Do This Perfectly

This isn’t a straight line. It’s a hot, chaotic spiral. You’ll think you’ve healed something—and then boom, Mercury retrograde shows up with a remix. Doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re human.

Shadow work isn’t about fixing yourself. It’s about getting real. About owning the whole damn mess that is you—and loving yourself anyway. Especially the messy parts. Especially the parts you were taught to hide.

You’re Doing It Right If It Sucks a Little

If you’re feeling raw, real, and a little wrecked—but also clearer, braver, and more you? You’re on the right track, babe.

Keep going. Cry in the tub. Cuss at your journal. Light the candle. Feel your feelings. And then get up and live your life—one shadowy, shining step at a time.

Welcome to Agartha, Babe (You’ve Been Here the Whole Time)

They say there’s a secret world under the crust of this magnificent but tired Earth. Not hell, not lava—something better. Golden cities. Crystal libraries. Enlightened beings sipping mushroom tea and waiting for us surface-dwellers to get our shit together.

It’s called Agartha. Hollow Earth theory, if you’re feeling tinfoil chic.

But here’s the twist: I don’t think you have to dig through Antarctica or decode Admiral Byrd’s diary to get there. I think you carry Agartha in your bones.

Yeah, you. The one in the thrifted leather jacket with eyeliner like war paint and a closet full of shapeshifter selves. You're already halfway underground.

Agartha is inner earth. The beneath. The part of you that the world told you to lock away because it was too much, too weird, too loud, too soft. It’s your personal underworld, and sis—it’s not a pit of despair. It’s a palace.

Descent is a Look
We’ve all got that surface self. The curated. The filtered. The one that thinks they know which parts of the psyche are safe for daylight.
But style? Real style? That lives in the shadows. The way you dress when you’re not trying to impress, just trying to feel true. Maybe it's a lace slip with combat boots. Maybe it's a jacket that looks like you wrestled it off a drunken lounge singer. Doesn’t matter—what matters is how it feels.
Agartha fashion isn’t about trends. It’s about resonance. Echo. Memory. The vibe of “I’ve met myself in the dark and came back with eyeliner as sharp as my wit.”

The Hole Is the Whole
If the surface world is all light and rules and social scripts, Agartha is the crack in the mask. The dream within the dream. The sacred recess where you remember who you were before you were taught to conform.
Exploring Agartha means styling from the inside out. Let your trauma dress itself. Let your shadow pick the playlist. Let the version of you that got buried under politeness and productivity come out in fishnets and feathers and a fuck-off stare.

It’s Not Escapism, It’s Excavation
Don’t get it twisted—we’re not running away to fantasy here. We’re digging. Peeling back the surface layers. Finding freedom in the catacombs of the soul. Sometimes the journey looks like shadow work. Sometimes it looks like vintage velvet and snake rings. Same energy.

And when someone asks, “Where’d you get that look?”
Just smile and say, “Underground.”