Sunday, December 27, 2015

Being an Empath RULES: 7 Powers You Didn't Know You Had


There. I said it.

In the past, I firmly rejected the label "Empath".

Why did I think that being an empath was for the birds? Because that's how we talk about it, guys. 
For years I thought that being a highly sensitive person meant that something was wrong with me due to the terms victimy, squishy, and martyr-y connotations. I had been taught that a well developed sense of empathy meant I was doomed to curl up in the fetal position and live as a piece of bruised fruit-- Like it was some sort of life long low grade ague...but for feels.  

"Fuck. Why couldn't I be clairvoyant? Or see ghosts? Or have uncanny precognition? Or be a good dancer? I get to be a walking-talking-paper cut with boundary issues?! This isn't a gift, it's ANNOYING."

We must protect ourselves. We must be careful. It's a curse. If you aren't careful you will be consumed by darkness, depression and poor health. You will end up insane because you have no discernment. You have the delicate constitution of a helpless fictional flower...

Enough. Seriously. That story sucks. 
I don't live in an Edwardian romance novel.

I oppose the commonly accepted narrative that empaths are pitiful, snowflakey marshmallows adrift in a poisonous world. There's enough weirdness, suffering and fear mongering floating aroud without us having to feed it crap we make up.

We become the stories we tell ourselves.

You know what? 
I fucking love being an Empath. 

Fucking. Love it.  

What if I told you that your sensitivities--that your empathic abilities were really super powers?  

What if I told you there was whole other side that has NOTHING to do with being miserable, lonely and drained, that is waiting, DYING for you to visit, tap in and play?

 Let me count the ways We are devastating and powerful...

We make Kick Ass Mediators and RULE at Negotiating

You know when it's super helpful to have a deep understanding of how everyone feels and can read body language like a hawk? When shit is hitting the fan, that's when. 

Empaths/HSP kick ass at diffusing hot situations, mediating tense communications and getting what you want out of a negotiation--i.e. walking into your boss's office, asking for a raise and ACTUALLY getting more cake. BAM!

We OWN Romantic Relationships.
As mentioned previously, our communication skills are on point, which if used correctly can lead to the blossoming of deeply intimate, meaningful, healthy, long lasting romantic relationships. Being able to read your partner can also translate to a fantastically magickal life in the boudoir...

We are not desperate hot house orchids in the bedroom.

We are Agonizingly Lip-Bitingly Sexy.
The art of Seduction is knowing what someone wants--their deepest desire-- and giving it to them, very, very, slowly. As an Empath/HSP you instinctively know precisely how much attention, love, humor, teasing, space and praise (perhaps a little touch) to lavish on someone and exactly where on their soul (or ego) to apply it to make them feel like a million dollars...or make them want to die.

 Either way--
 it is a very useful super power. 
We know the Terrible Productive Beauty of Righteous Anger.

We WILL make you shit your pants. It's gonna happen.

Crafty empaths who like being empaths know that you can take all those scummy feelings you collect up and alchemize them into Weapons of Change. Love and Light don't make benefits, fundraisers, Justice, trauma counseling, Art, rallies. marches, demonstrations and other potent agents of social change occur--

But seething anger and hunger for action does. 
Anger becomes a glorious force for Good when we channel it.

We are Life Juicers & Marrow Suckers.

We have the uncanny ability to be brought to tears by the right combination of colors, to get High as balls and trip on a hip crowd, to have every nerve in your body set on fire by music, to be transported to our ecstasy in nature, to get intellectually Switched On by the right beam of attention and chance encounter with a stranger at the grocery store...

While it can be ugly out there, we know the Beauty Buffet is also endless and we CRAVE IT. 

All of it. Now.

Some circles might consider that a form of psychic vampirism.
Call it what you will. I call it AWESOME.   

We Possess Fine Tuned Bullshit Detectors.

We do, honestly. No Joke.  But what about the boundary issue horror stories, Molly?! 

Trust me, I have them. We all have them. But here's the thing...
Boundary issues become a problem for us because we've been socialized to believe that being nice trumps everything (including your guts and common sense). God FORBID we aren't NICE. 

THAT is what gets us in trouble, bunnies-- it's not our instincts, it's our niceness. But when we tell our Niceness Pixie to "fuck off" so we can hear ourselves think, we can sniff out a crook anywhere. Shitty landord? GONE. Thieving friend? GONE. Misogynist promoter? FIRED.

We are the Renegades The Earth is Thirsty For.

We make amazing healers, dynamic entertainers, talented teachers, genius artists of all kinds and Leaders. 

Yeah, you heard me. LEADERS. Not whimpering, morose sponges plagued with energetic malaise...  

Fucking Leaders. We make great bosses, business owners, coaches, spokespersons and role models because we know how how to wield words and actions to make people feel appreciated, actively listen and build them up.

So, Let's get our shit together, ground our crap, take excellent care of ourselves and THEN swim around, revel in, lick our fingers and Explode on the world like frightening, effective, confusing, technicolor creatures we're meant to be.

Let's tell ourselves a new story, sweethearts.

Forever In Awe of Your Weirdness,

Sunday, December 20, 2015

Fucking Mermaid PSA: We Swim Around It

Dearest Mermaids,

Even though the family might not understand us, may try poke us with sharp things, tangle us in nets or make judgement calls about our lives,  we are going to Honor ourselves...because we're fucking Mermaids.

Even though we might allow other people to get under our shiny scales or unleash a hot pink streak of rage, we are going to Love the shit out of ourselves...because we're fucking mermaids.

We swim around it, over it, under it, through it Gracefully. 

As magickal creatures we know the junk that drops out of their mouths usually comes from a place of Love. In which case we have the powers to accept the Love, and leave the criticism behind like a candy wrapper.

As magickal creatures we know that if the junk drooling from their mouths sprouts from a more sinister place of Not Love that we don't have to accept it.

We know that Junk crawls out of a place of resentment of our happiness, regrets about mistakes and even a nasty stubborn wound that has nothing to do with us...

In which case we know to send them a big fucking scoop of Love--because Love is infinite and we can spare it.

We swim around it, over it, under it, through it Gracefully. 

As fucking Mermaids we recognize that just because we share genetic material or ceremonial bonds with others doesn't make it okay for them to treat us like shit.

Mermaids aren't dumb.

We're also wise enough and punk rock enough to know that it's okay if other people do not approve of our life choices, because WE approve of our life choices...and we're fucking mermaids.

Mermaids are allergic to ignorance.

We swim around it, over it, under it, through it Gracefully.  

We know the zeitgeist that if we do not perform to our tribes precise specifications--that we must be here, do this, say that or be brutally punished-- is a big fat lie we tell ourselves to stay unnecessarily stuck.

As free range creatures of Immpossibility,
as slippery sexy beings of the Deep,
as fucking mermaids, we say "Fuck that."

As experts at navigating dark waters, we know that this too will pass.

And we will swim around this, 
over this, 
under this
 and through this 
Gracefully together

Happy Holidays, Merfolks. XOXO



Sunday, December 6, 2015

Snow Queen Coloring Page for You!

I wanted to create a little goodie for you to enjoy while preparing for your winter festivities and say THANK YOU for all of your support, Moon Babies. 

Happy Coloring, ya weirdos! 

Click to enlarge image

Wishing you All the Magicks and Blessings of the Season, pumpkins.


Sunday, November 22, 2015

Lunar Whizbang Gratitude Ritual

We all know that gratitude is the key to insane happiness (Pintrest says so...). In fact we're told to be grateful so often that it can feel like a trite and puke worthy exercise in Fluffdom.

But warm fuzzies aside, the real gift of gratitude is gaining perspective and in a tangled life and confused world--

to get a fucking grip.

Gratitude rituals can be powerful but only  if you DO them.  The Key to a gratitude practice with a PUNCH is specificity.  The magick is really in the details.

Curl up and join me for a Lunar Whizbang Gratitude Ritual...

If you enjoyed this ritual, print the outline for your journal or grimoire! Change the words, rearrange to suit your tastes, do it standing on your head in the bathtub...just do it, Moon Babies.

Click to enlarge image

 May the Universe Shower You with Batshit Crazy Blessings, friends. 

From my black heart to yours, XOXO

Saturday, November 14, 2015

The Power of Ugly


It's the worst affliction we could possibly have. It is the most abhorrent and pitiful thing we could possibly be.  
Be self righteous, be rude, be ruthless, be ignorant, be moronic, be stingy, but for the Love of Pete--

 Don't. Be. Ugly.  Anything but Ugly.

In the paradigm of the Airbrush, the Cohesive Personal Brand, and the Promethian casket...

We could use a little Ugly. 

In a micromanaged and engineered culture that insists upon Aesthetic but actively undervalues Beauty,  Ugly has morphed and taken on new meaning. 

Ugly no longer simply implies grotesque and unseemly.

Ugly means unattractive.
Ugly means imperfect.

Getting Ugly at The Local.  Photo courtesy of An Insomniac Dreaming

Ugly is bloody, sweaty, unmanicured, photoshop resistant, footprints on the floor wax, bulging out, unashamed, crooked, cracked, eccentric, wobbly, wounded, worn out, unwound, unrefined, lipstick on the cup, marred, palimpsest, naked, flailing, cackling, exposed, sunburned, puffy eyed, sore throat, compostable, inedible, inappropriate, impolite, passionate, fluctuating, Liberating, microorganisms, skinned knees, fleshy, rotting, dying, gamy, sinewy, bony, squishy, Raw, on fire and FUNNY, God is she funny...

You can laugh at and with Ugly. I could use a laugh, couldn't you?

There is a dangerous freedom in Ugly. 

Ugly gives zero fucks.

The most powerful part of Ugly is that it's Real. You can feel Ugly with your human fingers and taste Ugly with your human tongue. You can BE wholly, completely and utterly Ugly in holy ways that Cute can't even touch.

There is Power in Ugly. People are frightened of Ugly. People are stupefied by Ugly. They don't know what to do with it.

But not us. You can keep your pretty and nice.

We'd rather be scary and interesting. Maybe rich too...

There is Hope and Healing in Ugly. Imagine all of the things you can let go when you pick up Ugly-- all the expectations you can flush down the toilet, all the crosses you can lay down, all the shame you can kiss good bye forever. 

We can breathe here. We can BE here.  

When you whip out your Ugly, you are unstoppable.
When you dare to be Ugly, the rules don't apply to you.
When you wear your Ugly secret doors fly open.
When your Ugly rears it's head, there is a Love waiting for you.
When you unleash your Ugly you are hip to all sorts of magick.

So, let me see it. Flash it on the world.

I'll show you mine, if you show me yours. 

From the bottom of  my Ugly Heart,

Thursday, November 5, 2015

The In Between Spaces

The crossroads. The hedgerow. The covered bridge. The Dusk. The alley.

The in between spaces.

Places that are neither here nor there and packed with potential.

I've mused about this time of year previously and how the magick of early November, that quiet time after the plastic stickiness and insanity of Halloween passes--but before the mania of the Holiday boot meets your ass is exquisite.

It's an in between space and often disregarded and sniffed at as boring, dreary, and worst of all: Brown.


It's an e x h a l e. There is the instinct to hunker down, to retreat, and to prepare.

A sedation much like the delectable fuzzy state of being beneath the covers and knowing you don't have to wake up just yet.

November comes with an elegant austerity and a renewed love of the mundane and creature comforts.

 I find myself craving the simplicity I see reflected in Nature around me. The subtle shifts of color, the peculiar quality of the quickly fading light and the rudimentary skeletal beauty of branches and tall grasses. Bright mornings. Persistent Fog.

Nothing mussy. Nothing fussy. 
November gets things done.

It's a welcome lull that's ripe with time for reflection: Did I manage to do half of the shit I said I would do this year? It's a time to think back to all of the unexpected misadventures that ran parallel to the "plans" we made and begin hatching and conjuring what will fill up the coming year.

This time is filled with burrowing, trimming away, sweeping out, making medicines, stocking the pantry, savoring transitions, s l o w i n g  d o w n, watching my breath turn into hot clouds, pretending to be invisible and stalking around in the growing night...  

What do you have planned for the space in between?

Much Magick, XOXO

Saturday, October 24, 2015

Dead Mans Party: Honoring Ancestors 101

You can keep your plastic gloves full of stale popcorn and shredded dress shirts caked with corn syrup body fluids.

At my house, October is all about dead people. 

As in Ancestors. Remembering, venerating, visiting, learning and loving all of the people (and companion animals) that have Passed On. 

Want in on the party but feel squeamish or unsure where to start? Here are a few suggestions to get started and celebrate your dead!

My 2016 ancestor altar

Write letters to the dearly departed. This can be a great way to engage in ancestor healing or bring feelings of closure to unfinished business. Is there something you wished you had said during their Life? Ask forgiveness? Or offer forgiveness? Maybe you simply need to send kisses and check in to see what the weather is like.

Write your letter and place it on an altar, leave it at the cemetery, drop it in a mail box, stash it under your pillow, bury it in the yard, tuck it in the pages of a book, or just keep it somewhere that feels right to you. You'll know what to do.

Do you know where your kin are buried, stored, scattered, resting? Visit your ancestral resting places. Go with friends and make it a R.I.P Round Robin!  Bonus points for tending to graves that need TLC.

Have Lunch in the Cemetery. Grave yard picnics aren't just for mall goths! This is a long standing tradition in many communities and makes for a lovely afternoon. Sunshine, grass, a blanket and a box of donuts can be a great way to talk to our kids about family history and provide a safe place to discuss issues like death and dying.

 It's strange to think how little many of us know about our familial history beyond a single generation. Take a free trip in the Way Back Machine and do a little research about the towns, countries and continents of your origin and be bamboozeled by what you find.

Invite your dead to dinner. Make a meal in homage of your ancestors. You may feel inspired to recreate a memorable dish or experiment with recipes that nod to your heritage. Or perhaps your style is more casual...

My favorite way to celebrate a meal with my grandfather is to cut a cardboard thin frozen pizza into saltine cracker sized squares and crack open an off-brand orange soda-- just like we did as kids. 

Don't worry. You can't mess it up.  

Broadcast to the Otherside by creating a playlist your loved ones would enjoy. Blast it often. Include songs they loved, tunes that make you think of them or maybe music that have ties to earlier descendants (i.e. folk songs ). I have a polka power station I use to honor my family's polka booster past.

Animal companions are family.  

Anyone who says that pet deaths aren't "real deaths" are probably sadistic androids plotting your demise and you should get away from them as quickly as possible. 

I include companion animals on my altars beside family because they are family.  

Honor their gentle furry, feathered and scaly souls by sprucing up or making a "proper" marker for their resting place, framing a favorite picture or support a shelter by donating in their name. (I personally purchase new toys for my Spirit Kitties to place on my altar and later gift them to my living fur babies.)  

Make an ancestor altar. An altar may be as ostentatious as a pile of memorabilia, snacks and knick-kacks or as simple as a framed picture or lit candle. Creating a communal altar as part of a Halloween party by asking guests to bring an object or a picture that relates to their ancestry also yields interesting results. (P.S. Kids love this. They want to help. Yet another opportunity to discuss death and family.)

Don't worry about making it perfect. Make it your own. Need inspiration? Here is a quick video tour of my altar.

Care for dead strangers. Maybe your family lives far away. Perhaps there's plethora of complicated and painful reasons you are no longer in touch with your tribe. Maybe you're just a weirdo who loves a good wander about the cemetery... 

Be a custodian of your local ghosts by sweeping away crispy grass clippings from fallen headstones, 
read the names on the markers out loud,
trace their names with your fingers,
spend a little time with people who have no one left
or have been long forgotten. 

 Make up your own traditions. All of the traditions we celebrate started that way-- someone made them up! If you feel drawn to honor your ancestors and loved ones by standing under the full moon with sparklers in your ears and playing the tuba...DO IT. 

Anything we do--no matter how silly it seems-- 
is sacred when done with Love and Intention.

There is no wrong way to express your love and appreciation. 

Go forth and venerate your dead! 
How do you honor your ancestors, Moon Babies?

Love, Kisses & Graveyard Dirt,


Saturday, October 3, 2015


Welcome to the October edition of DUMPSTROLOGY// TRASH ORACLE: A collection of divine knowledge and profanely inspired divination scavenged from the Gutter.


This month will be full of opportunities to get in touch with that
 tutu-rocking-screaming Inner Child. Seek out places to be gross, 
be playful, be LOUD, muss up the house and be delighted by the chaos.

The Universe wants to feed you! Prepare yourself for sustenance in the form 
of opportunities and inspiration. Are you doing everything you can to help yourself 
and meet the cosmos half way? Here comes the air plane!


Do you need to relax? Ya seem a little tense...
This month will be about finding constructive ways to channel any excess energy or 
aggression into labors of love or creative expression. This intense energy can also 
be directed to bust through procrastination and take care of business. 
But before you do that...deep breaths...really.


October will be your time to rub elbows with new humans! Follow your intuition
and let it help you wind up in the perfect circumstances to meet new faces,
potential conspirators or sexy friends.


Let music soothe the savage beast: create it, listen to it, dissect it, experience it live. 
You'll be privy to nuggets of truth and inspiration by listening closely to lyrics on the 
airwaves in the coming weeks. You may experience bouts of nostalgia--
ride the sentimental wave and enjoy it. *This cassette was discovered in a gas station shrub, 
suggesting you will be fueled creatively this month!*


October will a time of leave-taking. Don't fret, you'll be happy it happened. 
Someone in your life who has been taking advantage of you, or simply being 
a nit witted drain on your life force will make their exit. 
Don't be afraid to help this process along...

NO, you can't sit here.  


It's okay if you've been feeling a bit low, flat or drained, because this is your time to refill 
that giraffe cup! Use your instincts to fill yourself back up to the brim and fatten up your 
depleted reserves. Drink more water than you think you should and take that nap, damnit. 
Seriously. It's your time to spill-eth over.


Loneliness gets the best of us. Keep the faith! Your tribe or partner is out there! 
The gutter wants you to know that you are loved, and that there are many squeezable 
spirits in the sea--but don't be "blinded" by glamorous strangers. Keep your wits about you, 
be discerning and Love--or fun-- will show itself.

It's time to stop beating yourself up. Where are you depriving yourself comfort? 
Are you denying yourself joy or company? The cosmos wants to give you physical comfort 
and peace of mind--meet it in the middle by bringing down the walls and being nicer to yourself, okay?


It's taken a looooong time, but you're ready to shed your skin, trash that shit 
and step into the next phase of your complicated, exquisite, generally confusing
 and gorgeous existence. Let dead fuddy duddy ideas fall away and feel the sun 
start to shine on your life and kick the old carcass to the curb. You're ready, don't hesitate!


Let's be real. It's time to quit procrastinating, Capricorn. Unlock your bodacious 
potential by getting organized and taking real action. Don't underestimate the 
power of baby steps! Keeping your radness a secret is doing you a serious disservice.
 Light a fire under your ass and show us what you're made of.


Bat can navigate the dark--and so can you, Aquarius. 
Pay close attention to your dreams, read between the lines
and hang out in the shadows and in-between places to get the information you've been looking for...
Keep your ears open!


A recent defeat or ugly memory may leave you feeling flattened or broken.
 It's okay to rest, take a break and gather yourself. Trust in cycles, trust that 
Change is the only certainty and remember your circumstances are FAR from permanent. 
Wait this time'll be glad you did.

Your Trashy Oracle,  XOXO

Sunday, September 20, 2015

Action as Offering: Witches, Service & Community

Whilst sprucing up my dark moon (goddess) altar, dusting away stale incense ash, fidgeting with the particular placement of statuettes and examining the oddly rubbery bruised skin of a desiccated apple I had placed weeks ago in offering to Hel, I thought to myself...

Does She really want another apple?

What if instead of trinkets and stale cups of beer I gave energy through acts of service--practical acts of Love-- as sacred offerings? What if I could show my community, my neighborhood, my city, what a witch really is through action?

What if I developed my relationship to Life, The Universe and Everything by moving through the world modeling and channeling that goddess behavior instead of leaving it on the meditation mat or the privacy of my altar?  

The rest of the week I began to reflect on the ideas about living in integrity as a witch, of being of service to the community through witchery and the possibilities of Action as Offering.

I decided that while I find the tableau of rotting fruit quite poetic, SHE has had her fill for the time being. 

SHE wants me to hit the pavement. 

Perhaps committing to extensive volunteering isn't a viable option for you at the moment, but that doesn't mean we can't make make a magickal impact.

If you are feeling called to express your witchy nature positively in your community or commit actions of offering, here are a few easy, realistic and inexpensive ways you can offer meaningful magick: 

Adopt an animal sacred to your deity or ancestors (You can also make small donations to shelters even if you aren't adopting animals.)

Start a compost heap or contribute to a community heap. (Great for dark goddess lovers.)

Carry a plastic bag and pick up litter on your regular walks in honor of the Land.

 Decide to be a custodian to a public space that might be sacred or special to you.

Bomb public spaces with Art.

Start a container vegetable garden and share the wealth.

Call your local food bank and see what's in demand--they need help ALL year.
Donate a piece of art to a hospital or nursing home. 

Call your local nursing home and see how you can best be of assistance.

Shelters are often in need of basic items like tampons and combs.

Donate books and magazines to a hospital.

Tend to a cemetery by sweeping and replacing flowers.

Don't assume that you don't have time to volunteer! Many organizations will gladly help you find something you want to do--even if it's only once!  (Craigslist has opportunities available in your area. Check out the "volunteers" tab on the community menu.)

Magick works through you and IS you. 

Are acts of service part of your practice? Do you use Action as Offering?

Much Love, Moon babies...



Wednesday, September 16, 2015

"I Just Want to Feel Connected..."

"I just want to feel...Connected."

"I understand. Do  you meditate?"

"Not really a meditater."

We proceeded to talk about ritual, spending time in green places, a plethora of book resources...

 Who doesn't want to feel more connected? More a part of Life, The Universe and Everything? Tapped in, switched on and turned up to the world around them? To have their spider senses tingling with the sensation of being joyfully linked into the web of Consciousness?


Well I failed this person as I completely forgot about this INCREDIBLE and easy exercise to get plugged in, in contact and grounded in the magick of the mundane. It doesn't require hours of sitting on crystalline sand in solitude or the supervision of a guru-- only paper and pen.

It's a creative writing exercise I picked up in college. 

Before you roll your eyes and refresh facebook, know that I've used this trick to create prayers, rituals, poems, meditations and the seeds for every song I've ever written as well as a meditative medicine on it's own.

It goes like this:

1) Take your body to a place you can sit. This place can be public or private.

2) Take a moment to absorb your surroundings. Look around the coffee shop, forest or yurt you're in.

3) Write down your 5 Senses: Sight, Sound, Touch, Smell, Taste.

4) For each sense, write the following: two things you can physically sense and one thing you perceive or imagine but don't physically experience. (You could call this your sixth sense.)  It might look something like this:

"The rumbling of feathers in the dryer.
The clacking of a broken shoe.
The wails  of dryer sheet ghosts."

5) Repeat for ALL of the senses. See if you can perceive and collect more than three sensations.

The point of this little poetry project is twofold: to simultaneously ground the body in mindfulness and sensuality while also exploring your environment with your creative feelers.  

Try this in different settings, mentally run through the exercise while walking to the bus, investigate everything and notice how alert, coherent, grounded and inspired you feel. 

How do you get connected?

Friday, August 28, 2015

Full Moon Blessings: Lights and Words for You

As was promised on facebook earlier this week, I'm celebrating the full moon by setting lights for each and every one of you. Let's make magick, moon babies...

Merry Full Moon, Bunnies.

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Is There More to Mermaids? Myths, Musings and Treasures

Mermaids are particularly pervasive in popular culture at the moment. Their wild style it is easy to dive into with it's playful, imaginative, fantastical and instagramable allure. But what if there was something more to the mermaid trend? What if mermaids speak to something deeper? Something we crave?

In this mermaid diary, we'll muse on ancient mermaid lore, their place in popular culture, and how I personally interpret the symbolism of mermaids: 

Psyche diving, the dreamy depths, freedom, and their wild and often frightening implications... 

This ain't no Disney bullshit.

"What makes mermaids interesting is that they are part animal. The tail is what intrigues us and tickles the imagination. Mermaids show us an image of a creature with the higher consciousness and spirit of a human smashed up against the wild, the untamed, passionate, sometimes off putting, sometimes scary and unpredictable ANIMAL. And if you are feeling disconnected from your animal nature, mermaid energy might be something you want to utilize." 

Want more mer goodies? 

Here are a few ways you can wake up your inner Mer.

Enjoy this homemade Ocean Sanctuary Mermaid Meditation 

 Go to the water and recharge. It doesn't have to be an ocean or pristine beach! Rivers, lakes, swimming pools and even fountains have the replenishing and moving energy you are thirsty for.

 Run a bath and load it up with sea salt and soak in the surf vibes. Sprinkle in sea shells for good measure. If you don't have a tub, a foot soak works beautifully.

If rocks and crystals get you hot and bothered, I recommend selenite, adventurine, abalone shell and pearl to inspire watery magic and meditation.

Make time to tap in to your creativity right now. It's okay if you aren't a poet or painter-- make a magazine dreamboard, throw on something you've always wanted to wear, or rearrange your furniture . That's how we get in the FLOW, merbabies..

Huge Love from your Friendly Neighborhood Sea Witch,

Thursday, August 6, 2015

Creepy. Crawly. Sacred. Who Is Talking To You?

Spider has been trying to get at me in a big way these days. Tucked into the corners of the porch, long invisible threads across the sidewalk, jumping out of suitcases...

Weaving, catching, creating, hunting, binding, gathering--

I'm not trying to be rude, Spider, but I'm listening.
Please stop trying to talk to me in the shower.

It's not just Spider-- butterflies, moths, darting dragonflies, hornets, rabbits, squirrels, sparrows, stray cats and the occasional rogue bat have been ringing my doorbell as well.

It can be difficult for city dwellers to remember that Nature isn't a place we visit. We still live in it. We're part of it. We ARE it. We can't be separated. Even tucked away in a 4th story apartment, we still inhabit a wilderness of sorts.

I am frequently guilty of entertaining the lie that the only way to get clear and focused or experience magic means getting as far away from concrete as possible. While no one will deny the helpfulness and healing tonic of uninterrupted natural beauty, for most of us a several month long holiday in the wilderness isn't possible. (Helicopters are expensive.)

Though city kitties may not have access to stoic ancient groves of oaks, we do have the benefit of being surrounded by messengers: the creepies, the crawlies, the dumpster divers and secret paws of urban wildlife.   

Paying attention to your local critters offers medicine, massive insights, poetry and interesting snacks for your subconscious...

Bat: death and rebirth, seeing the unseen, adaptability, facing fears, social skills.

Butterfly: Transformation. Growth. Creativity. What stage are you in?

Squirrel: Gathering. Anxiety. Hoarding. Flexibility. Storing energy. Preparedness. Safety.

Crow: Shape shifting. Change. Mindfulness. Speaking the truth. Balance.

Moth: Underlying messages, flow, sensitivity to environments, letting go of dead weight

Goose: Bravery, confidence, protection, assertiveness, communication, loyalty.

Bee: Teamwork, community, family, productivity, growth.

Rabbit: fears, worry, rest, reevaluate, release, boundaries, burrow for safety.

Fox: Adaptation, protection, cunning, decisiveness.

Seagull: Opportunity, freedom, resources, judgement, How is your discernment these days?

Racoon: Giving and receiving, shifting identity, disguise, being honest with yourself.

Duck: Make a move now, notice your surroundings, reconnection to others, new opportunity.

Chipmunk: Adventure, play, persistence and exploration.

Dragonfly: Wisdom, illusions, enlightenment, communication, messages.

Don't forget-- images of animal messengers count too! Critters that appear in bathroom graffiti, billboards, junk mail and murals are ALL fair game for cosmic advice.

Who has been trying to talk to you, Man Cub? 

Tell me in the comments. I'd love to hear all about it!

Thrive on, Moon Babies. XO


Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Baba Yaga! Crone Energy, Tough Love & Chicken Feet

 Baba. Grandmother.

 Baba Yaga.

The feral, unpredictable, fatally magical, certifiably dangerous, No-Fuck Giving Hag of the black forest.

Or in my humble opinion, a True death goddess undressed and waiting on the fringe of the wilderness to be rediscovered.

Illustration by Stephanie Brown

She makes due. She transforms.  She is crass and cuts to the quick. She'll tell you to quit bitching and DO something about it already...

Sometimes she comes as a creaking door, other times as the lady screaming at the bus stop, other times the voice of your grandmothers grandmothers grandmother you never had the pleasure to meet in the flesh.

One of my All Time Favorite Creatrix, Joanna DeVoe has been hostessing an incredible conversation around Witches Who Run With The Wolves (inspired by the classic, Women Who Run With The Wolves). I was delighted to tune into her Soul Retrival podcast and stumble into a rich discussion about Baba.

Baba is my girl. I was revved up and compelled to share.

In this ramble I'll touch on rediscovering Baba while searching for my Slavic roots, how the Baba delivers Tough Love by the gnarly fistful, why Crone doesn't need you, and of course...chicken feet.

"She is a bas relief buried in your psyche. If you're willing to grope around in the dark, you'll find her."


More Resources for Baba nerds:

Child of Bones : Wild Russian Goddess
Child of Bones: Baba Yaga Youtube series
Joanna DeVoe: Hippie Witch Radio [Soul Retrieval: It Starts with Intuition]
Russian Witch Baba Yaga's Guide To Feminism. <--The Best Thing On The Internet.

Wishing you all a sacred, succulent, Bull Shit free New Moon, Bunnies. 

Keep it Weird, XOXO


Thursday, July 9, 2015

Unicorn Meditation!

A few weeks ago I put feelers out to see if any of you weirdos were feeling playful and looking to experience some guided meditations working with elementals.

The answer was a resounding, sparkling, emphatic YES.

So here it is, pumpkins.

Curl up under the covers, make a cup of tea, or steal away to the restroom at work. I hope you enjoy this imperfect recording of 17 minutes of joyful, unabashed, glittering Unicorn Bliss. 

Is there a theme for a guided meditation you would like to hear? Meow at me in the comments!

 It is my pleasure to grant your wishes.

More elemental treats to come, honey bears.

Be well.
All my Love,

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Updates: Fairies, Burn Out and Retreat

Hello, Chickadees

For the last six months I've been off on adventures and pouring energy into projects which required pushing writing under the rug.

I've missed you. I know we "connect" on social media. But I don't just want to like your photos and nonchalantly heart vignettes of your life. I miss talking with you and telling stories. You humans.

So while tucked away in the north woods I made you a little video. We'll catch up, ramble about fairies, archetypes, the malaise of Burn Out and have our own little summer retreat.

I hope you enjoy our imperfect and impromptu visit.

P.S. I realize I use the phrase "down the rabbit hole" excessively. I blame it on the snot brain.

I hope your long summer days have been magical, that you are well and taking impeccable care of yourselves.

There's more rainbow infused city witch woo-woo shit coming at you SOON, honey bears.

How is your fairy doing?

All my Love from the Woods,

Friday, March 20, 2015

Riding Kali: Burlesque, Possession & The Destroyer

In my short experimental journey in burlesque I've been fairies, robots, flappers and mermaids--but this sacred cabaret adventure turned into something else entirely.

I was brushing my teeth when I recieved a message about participating in a goddess themed burlesque. I shouted at the phone,  "YES. ALL THE YES. KALI, OHMYGOD I WANT TO BE KALI." 

After I wiped the spit off the screen I excitedly responded to the message.

Gosh.  An opportunity to honor a living goddess on stage. I've waited my whole life for a show like this.

Then I began to panic. What was I doing? Why did I choose Kali? As a student of goddess mythology, I was embarrassed that not only was my knowledge of Kali limited and two dimensional--

But I was actually afraid of her. 

Kali is the untamed and complicated Hindu goddess of change, destruction, time and death. 

Image by One Deluge Photography

Despite using oracle cards and tarot as tools for personal development and not as a way to peer into the future, and an understanding that pictorial representations of death don't imply a physical demise, my heart still beats faster when she appears in a spread.

You know that endings and beginnings are natural, Molly. Relax. Get a grip. It's CARDBOARD.
That seems to work. For a little while. She is the exception to rationality.

There was also the anxiety of falling short telling the story of a complex living goddess. Despite the delightful and refreshing political incorrectness inherent in burlesque, I didn't want to present an ignorant appropriated halloween costume version of Her. That wasn't acceptable.

I wanted to venerate her.

Research began: collecting images, pulling from my personal library, watching documentaries, studying Bollywood homage works to the goddess and classical Indian dance performances. All of the stories and representations were rich and conflicting--

You'll find that with goddesses.

With the kittens as my audience, I began blocking out the number in my living room as usual. I normally record this process just in case something interesting happens in the amniotic muck of brainstorming. Upon reviewing the footage, I shook my head and made screwed up faces:

Make yourself bigger. Open up your mouth. Use your whole body. Be chaos. Just...Be Scarier.

Then something weird happened: I randomly decided to mimic a scream with the music. Teeth bared. Wide stance. Eyes closed. Fists tight. With intense broad diaphragm support like an animal.

Normally, this wouldn't be special as I actually scream all the time.

But in silently pantomiming the scream using my whole body-- I immediately started to cry.

While standing alone half dressed and crying in my living room three distinct thoughts entered in this order:

1) I get why people dance. I didn't before, but I do now. I have always appreciated dance, but had only a superficial understanding.

2) All that magicky talk about psychodrama and evocation is fucking real.

3) I am not nearly as brave, wild or confident as I tell myself I am. I am terrified of change and discomfort. You are a smallish bound up version of yourself. There is deep frustration and fear in here.
     "That was a scream heard in places you can't see."

Woah. Wait, What? Where the fuck did that come from?

"Alright, This isn't simply stripping. This is going to have to be something else isn't it? That, whatever that weird thing you just did was--that's what you're going to do."

Image by One Deluge Photography

It changed what I could explore with Burlesque. In the past the routines were developed to be comedic, clownish and formulaic cartoons of conventional feminine drag. 

In the past, when asked about burlesque I assured skeptical friends and family that "I do it because it's liberating." But when that moment in the living room subsided, I realized that the past stage experiences peeling were certainly fun, but I had I really felt liberated?

Nope. Probably not. But I certainly felt free now.

I never imagined that I would find Her here. I never anticipated stripping would bring me to this place. But isn't that where trippy epiphanies and cosmic sign posts appear? In places were the sacred and profane bump uglies? 

A few weeks later, I nervously stood behind the curtain at the theater preparing to take the stage. 

My body paint itching terribly.

Is this going to work? Is this going to flop? Can I pull her up again? Am I just insane? I'm probably insane. Are you with me? I would feel better if you were with me. 

I'm definitely insane.

I was foolish to think it would be perfect. It's Kali. 
I was foolish to think She would abandon me. It's Kali. 

She is chaos. Nothing is more certain.

The music started and my ostrich fans immediately exploded and fell to pieces in my hands. 

I started to sweat. 

Hold tight.  She's Here.