I have to instill in myself what my parents could not—I have to know that I’m safe, no matter who is in or out of my life.
I reasoned that in an unsafe world, expressing pain would expose a vulnerable weakness that others could exploit. It seemed wiser to keep it all to myself.
I remember the seething, white-hot rage I felt inside. I wanted to burn shit down or blow it up and leave a trail of ashes behind me. I had finally connected the dots between a father who was emotionally absent and impossible to please and the men I had attracted into my life. Guess what?… Continue reading Healing the Father Wound: My Journey from Rage to Reconciliation
I spent most of 2015 grieving the loss of my mother. The following year was consumed with celebrity deaths, the election, and a general feeling of malaise and anxiety over what lay ahead, both politically and personally. It was supposed to be a year of recovery for me, a year to get my groove… Continue reading When a Witch Doesn’t Feel Like Witching
Cleaning out my purse is a weekly ritual for me, because I can’t stand digging through unnecessary items to reach the one thing I need (usually, it’s my car keys). Receipts tend to accumulate more than anything else. I buy something and shove the receipt down in my purse, as I’m grabbing the handles… Continue reading The Receipts We Carry
Can you recall the exact moment when someone stripped you of your voice? How did that one incident affect your self-expression and creativity? What did you do to heal yourself?
She goes by several names…Mary, Miryam, Magdala, Magdalena. I won’t speculate on her origins or elaborate on the Gnostic teachings that describe her as Sophia, the original female principle, the Goddess. Many have already devoted books to the exploration of her mysteries, but I will leave all of that for the scholars to pick apart… Continue reading Service and the Art of Self-Care
I wrote this poem after contemplating how often women deny or suppress their own power because of shame or social conditioning. I believe many, including myself, have felt that we lost our sensual selves along the way somewhere. The truth is that we can't ever lose something so dear, but we can (and do)… Continue reading Hazardous Material
“It is more blessed to give than to receive.” Oh, you learned that verse too well, my sister. That’s what they expect, after all. Be a nurturer, a supporter, a giver. It’s your holy calling. It’s what women do. Give until your creative well is empty, until your back is broken, until you are… Continue reading The Art of Receptivity
I've spent the past several weeks thinking about all the women in my circle who are in the midst of deep healing work, women who are called to be the priestesses of a new age. This poem is for you, all of you, who are feeling this energy right now and answering that call to… Continue reading A Poem for the Priestess in Service