The slight chill in the air is growing as the colder months settle in — just as a wisp for now, but soon will be an onslaught. We are barely heading into the equinox season as I write this, and the magic has been flowing all around as of late. I've been doing a lot of work with my bones, as well as meditating on the phoenix, and how it rises and falls in cycles.
With the work for the most part done before my next seasonal shift, I walk the tides with an astute awareness of what cycles when. Goldenrod, Aster, all the lovely early autumn blooms are vivid in the sunlight, and I gasp every time I see or feel their presence.
As I walk through these tides, I learn more and more — as the Phoenix would attest, my work has taken a turn for the long, ponderous, and introspective. I've been going through one of those phases where I scrap everything and start fresh and I guess that's where Threshold & Hedge came from — that sweet spot of knowing exactly what is what.
Compiling all my notes took several months of work straight, and I never really intend to have a Phoenix fire, it just sort of happens and I learn to live with it. I take rigorous notes. There is a lot to be said for the tides and the lessons they bring.
Lately, I've been digging into Saturn by Liz Greene — being in my Saturn return, I am learning a lot about who I am and what I stand for. These bones will know their purpose eventually. That is the magic of it. I've been turning my gaze inward and really seeing what is serving me and what no longer works. It's been a long process of being able to trust my own judgement and course of action.
The bones help me a lot with navigation — I've talked about this on my YouTube channel, but never really here. I rely on my bone reading kit a lot. Divination is a staple in my practice for many reasons — talking to my spirits, ancestors, and the spirit of time itself is something I've learned how to do through the bones and their guidance has been so important in my life.
With some reluctance, I approached Geomancy once more to get a sense for where I was going, and it astounded me how well everything slotted into place. I am currently at the tail end of a long and intense flame that has turned everything to a rich bronze. This process hasn't been easy and learning to navigate with my mental health issues has been interesting to say the least, but we stay silly!
Right now, my self is being mostly defined by what I walked away from — the generational trauma, the Horrors™️ that haunt me. It's a long and complicated past, but I've walked away from alcoholism, colonialism, the effects of war on refugees. I walked away from the gender roles that were foisted upon me without my consent, and I stand outside of society because of my various issues leading me to not be able to function properly. It's a lot and it's very vulnerable to admit.
But I've also been going through the biggest rebirth I think I've ever been through — I've written so much, gotten so much creativity out because it's what keeps me alive and going. I want to stay alive and in touch with the beauty of nature, of life, and of the cycles that guide us all.
What I walked away from is intense, but what I kept made it worth it. I keep my Ancestors held deeply within me. I carry my cultures: Hmong. Anishinaabe. I recently learned Algonquin — I know where my family is from now. I did not abandon my family. I abandoned the wounding.
Cedar and Elder are in my Herbarium as the Grandmothers. Kiishig. The Witch Hag of Elphame. My grandmothers are in the smoke and the fronds.
When I write, I guess you could say I go into a trance. It's something I didn't realize I was doing, but when you dissociate really badly, you can really lose track of time. That's how I end up writing so much, because sometimes all I can bring myself to do is write. There are days where I can't get out of bed due to the heavy weight in my heart, but I still always try to write.
It is intense, what comes through is not for the weak willed — but I can't survive without it. I've been writing consistently since I was 9 years old, and I am honest about the hurt through my words.
I have not survived my endings. I have built from them and tended a garden where the soil lay.