29/06/2025
The phrase “love and light” is something you’ll hear often in spiritual spaces, and while it’s usually shared with kind intentions, it’s also become a bit of a spiritual cliché—one that sometimes misses the mark. Over time, it’s been used to gloss over pain, shut down difficult conversations, and bypass the deep, raw parts of healing that need to be witnessed. It can create a culture where people feel pressure to stay positive at all costs, even when they’re breaking inside. That kind of toxic positivity isn’t healing—it’s harmful. It tells people to look on the bright side instead of sitting with them in the dark, and that’s not the kind of space I ever want to hold.
That’s why I don’t sign off with “love and light” in the traditional sense. Instead, I say love and moonbeams—and there’s a reason for that. Moonbeams are soft, silver, and subtle. They show up in the darkness. They don’t try to erase the shadows—they dance with them. They remind us that even in the hardest moments, we can still be held in quiet magic. To me, love and moonbeams is about sending warmth and care without pretending things are perfect. It’s a reminder that your whole experience is welcome here: the light, the dark, the messy middle.
The Wild Hearts Club was built with this energy in mind. It’s a community grounded in authenticity, integrity, and radical emotional honesty. We don’t expect you to slap on a smile and push through. We don’t demand constant “high vibes only.” Instead, we offer a safe, sacred space where you can be real. Where you can cry, rage, spiral, rise, and soften—all without judgement. Here, you are never too much or not enough. Here, you are seen and supported for exactly who you are, not just the version of you that’s easy to digest. That’s the kind of magic we’re weaving together—real, grounded, and soul-deep. So when I say love and moonbeams, know that it’s not fluff. It’s an invitation to come exactly as you are, and be met with truth, tenderness, and a whole lot of heart.
Love and moonbeams,
Ash x