You. You. You. You. 

First of all.  before anything else: can you feel the intensity of this moon? If you did/can, can you please send me a quick email, telling me how you experienced it? The Full Flower Moon- in the sign Scorpio.  Here’s the thing, my moon sign is in Scorpio {so is my partners and 2 of my 3 daughters}.  Usually we are all unraveled during the full moon and we all fall apart and scratch the walls and cry buckets and all that fun stuff.  But this moon... It felt so grounding and powerful and primal and real and sexy and strong... {and bloody, sorry if there are any dudes on this, but also, not sorry. more blood talk to follow}.  



So I am just wondering.  Was this moon just at home for me? Because it was in my sign? Or was that the general vibe of the moon for most of you? Did this moon feel different? In any way? Or is May just a fucking mystery that lodges itself between spring and summer?


I know the moon was full last night- at some point- and I wanted to write this letter then, but actually.. not really.  Instead I did what I really wanted and it was to eat coconut milk ice cream with real caramel sauce in bed with my man and watch Game of Thrones and Vikings and then just ravage each other because I was starving for his skin and wanted to be cracked in two... {sorry again, not sorry, sex is good and healthy, let’s talk about it more, okay? please. for ourselves and our children}


So here I am tonight- writing. It’s just dusk here as I type, but the darkness is slowly swallowing the light.  I can’t see Her yet but she’s there, coming up and soon will draw her light in my window and share with me how to be more of me, a fuller me, a me who knows how to take up space. 

Take up some space this full moon. Puff up. Get big.  Widen your hips.  Stick our your boobs. Curve your lower goddess back. Walk large. 


* * * 

Now on to the blood story.  I have been using blood rituals since I was about 26 years old.  What this means is I use my moon blood in ceremony and ritual.  I learned it through a teacher named Luisah Teish, who first guided me through yoruba and voodoo practices and then again by a my teacher Whapio - who initiated me as a quantum midwife.  


I do not talk about using blood in ritual publicly just because, well, often times people don’t love to hear it and I never felt pulled to share it.  Until now. Maybe it's because I don't know how long I will bleeding.  I'm 41. Who knows.  I began bleeding this month on Beltane Eve {April 30} and because it was a high holiday- the midway point between spring and summer and because the moon was waxing...  I took a small taste of my moon blood between my lips and wipe some down the sides of my cheeks with my fingers, warrior style.  This time I decided to take a photo and share it and tell a small slice of my blood mystery, a tiny bit of my blood story. 


I think it’s time, as women, as moon daughters, as mothers and wise woman, fertile or beyond fertility, that we begin talking about our blood and using our blood and reminding people that our blood is life blood, not death blood.  That our blood holds the mystery and luxury of humanity.  That within our blood lives everything within this universe. Why do we hide it? Run from it? Cramp with it? Complain about it? Suffer through it? Why are we always plugging ourselves upend stopping our flow... lives flow?.  Let’s start bleeding out.  Let’s have it drip and drip some more.  Pool it. Soak in the earth. Draw with it. Cast spells of love with it. Tell stories about when you used to bleed if you don’t anymore. 

Our Blood connects us all.  And the moon is our map. 


* * * 


Okay another thing that is coming to me right now that I really want to say is:


There is nothing wrong with you. 

I keep thinking about the story of Adam and Eve and the banishment from the garden and the fist damn story we are told about life is that we have done something wrong. 


And I am over it. 


I am not an outcast.


I belong here. 


And there is nothing wrong with.


I mean there are a trillion things wrong with me and every single damn one of them are brilliant. My wounds and faults and quirks and gaping holes are my places of art.  Where I hurt is where I am able to awaken myself most.  My desires are sacred.  My mistakes are like maps for me in the sky.


So nothing can be wrong with me.  


And under this moon I claim that: I am totally imperfectly perfect with nothing to prove to anyone. Not to you. Or me Or to any of them. There isn’t a thing I have to do ... except show up and love and be kind and create and fuck up over and over again and still know: I belong here. I do not need to banish myself,  shame myself for anything I do.  I can enjoy my body.  I can express my heart + mind. I can shed like a snake and bite into the fruit of life. 


* * * 


Okay I promised you a recipe didn’t I?


This chai is so simple and so pure and so spicy and so delicious.  I don’t add a thing to it usually but you can add all your yummy milks and honey etc if you want it creamy.  Personally I just love to feel its fire in my throat and my belly. 


I take about equal parts {I usually make them in 1/2 cups each or 1 whole cups each depending on how much I want to keep stored}


-Cinnamon bark {I get whole cinnamon sticks and pound them down to little pieces}

-Dried Ginger root {not powder, but chunks of dried ginger root}

-Cardamon seed {I use a wee less of these}

-Whole black peppercorns {I used a wee less of these}

-Mix these all together. 


Boil 16 cups of water and add 6 rounded tablespoons of your blend and simmer at a low boil for 20 minutes.  Add a teaspoon of black tea if you want and let simmer a couple more minutes. I usually take this chai totalyl caffeine free because it’s so good that way, lighting the internal fire, the creative fire, boosting metabolism, and keeping you alive and awake with it’s spice.  


Strain.  You can store in fridge for a while… but it never lasts too long with me.  I am constantly heating it up and drinking it throughout the day. 


Good for your bones, your blood, your soul.  

Good for your heat. 


* * * 


I was going to talk about something I am in the middle of creating but right now I am so taken by the darkness that has covered the sky and the moon that is rising right now.  I can see her. Coming past the trees.  Glowing. Round. Alive.  But I will say it’s all about The Tower card.  And structures. And systems. And liberation, release and {re}discovery of ourselves and our world.  We are living in a time where our systems/structures aren’t working any more- we want them to change, but they can’t change until we have a vision.  And we can’t have a vision until we destroy our own internal and personal structures and systems.  Working with The Tower card is like working on freedom, justice and change. It’s for all of us ready for a shift, a new paradigm, it’s for the mothers, the healers, the activists and all of us that are so ready to see things fall apart so we can build a new world, one that is beautiful an full of crazy hope.  So yeah, that’s in the making. And I am loving it.  So stay tuned. It’s coming around super soon. 


I am also slowly starting a school for writing.  Slowly.  But surely.  It’s going to happen.  Pray for me, okay? Send my energy and vision and clarity.


And of course, I will do the same for you.  Always. 


* * * 


If you are interested in reading a couple things- I wrote this piece about Cannabis{social/political and personal piece that I am pretty passionate about} and I threw this crazy hodgepodge together- which will end up being 3 different pieces eventually- but it's pure process- the writing process- my writing process- and i just put it on my blog because I am done caring about outcome and really am so interest in process right now.  I want to give people permission to celebrate the process.  Because it's so beautiful and so true and raw. And so much fucking fun. It's art. The end result is cool and all, but we make art because we love the act of it.  Anyway. It's a mess, but it's also real. 


This week 2 pieces are coming out on Elephant Journal {a revised version of the cannabis piece} and a piece on ritual with kids. 


So that’s the boring scoop. 


* * * 


Otherwise, please... have hope.  Have crazy kinds of hope.  Know yourself radically {that means down to your roots, the origin, the essence of you}.  Spend time savoring the small stuff and the big stuff.  All the stuff.  Love up on your ouchies and shine light on your lushness. Bring yourself back into the garden. Accept the flaws, the wildness, the chaos, the emotions, the hysteria, the pain, the sadness, the sorrow, the ecstasy. You belong here. There is nothing wrong with you.  This garden is all yours. 


Go to the window and stare.  Whether it’s morning or night.  Stare into the sky and wait for something to come to you. 


Pause.  Pause some more.  Wait even longer. Don’t do a damn thing.  Be still and know you are god. 


Know you are real. 


As real as the sky. 


As real as this moon.


As real as this breath, in and out, in and out.


As real as each word, each letter, like a seed, falling from the sky and into the earth.


Cry and know that you are growing. 


We all are. 


In heat and crazy hope, 



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