Aimee Traeden Spirit . Art . Sound

07/29/2025

These mountains have been my greatest teachers.
The canyon, my mirror. The river, the great alchemist.

This land has held so much.
I’ve planted trees here. Grown food with my hands.
Laid my body down in grief more times than I can count.
I’ve lived here and felt the entire range of humanity, with all the emotions laid bare, in awe.

This house, this land, has been a witness to thresholds I could never have planned for.
It held us through a pandemic, through the death of our beloved dog Kodiak, through heartbreak, rebirth, and the kind of becoming that only solitude can offer.

Here, I unraveled everything I once believed. I deconstructed an entire cultic experience and let the false gods fall.
I Listened, in the silence, for what was true for me.

And the silence responded.
Full. Dense. Wise.
It gave me back to myself.

Animals have come here to die in peace. Their spirits joined the lineage of this place.
I’ve sat with them. Cried with them.

I learned a new shape of loss that does not end, only deepens.

I am not the same woman who arrived here.
And still, I feel the ache of leaving.
Because this land is alive. And it knows me. I don’t know how I will say goodbye to the trees I’ve planted and those who stood tall as sentinels who welcomed me with their mighty branches.

But something is shifting.

We’re moving north.
To big skies, farmland and more Mountains.
To slower living.
To vast, star-filled dark nights.
To a quieter way of being.

I always knew It was never meant to be forever here.
But it’s hard to uproot when you’ve shared so much with a place.
This land and I both were revived together.

May these mountains remember me, as I will always remember them.

And may the new stewards of this home always feed the hummingbirds!

07/28/2025

07/26/2025

This isn’t just a story about spiritual harm.
It’s a mirror for the ways we leave the body, the earth, and each other the name of “love and light.”

There is a deep sickness in the way modern spirituality tries to float above the chaos of the world while it is clearly on fire.

The wars don’t stop because you’re vibrating higher.

The grief in your bones doesn’t disappear because you deny it.

And the harm caused in the name of “healing” is still harm, no matter how pretty the altar looks.

We are living in a timeline where things are unraveling.
And if your practice can’t stand in that truth, if it can’t make space for grief, justice, land, and trauma, then what is it doing?

I’m calling you all out to call you IN!
To the body. To the land. To the breath.
To the kind of spiritual path that knows how to stay present in a world that’s burning. To expand your heart so wide that you send all the love you can to the suffering.

Bypassing the truth doesn’t change anything.
But presence might.
So please stay vigilant, keep your eyes and your heart open.

Don’t look away, don’t run away. And please don’t try to spin this all with toxic positivity!! We need your humanity. We need your honest, compassionate, loving, HUMAN HEART!! ♥️

07/25/2025

Thank you for this! This is an important message. If this pushes you, activates you, or makes you want unfollow me. Okay.
I will not turn off my humanity, my compassion and love for others.
I will not pretend it’s all just gonna go away.

07/17/2025

Working in my studio getting ready for the market on Sunday and I was putting something away when I found a pile of more photos and this post card……

my heart stopped for a minute.

After I read it, I felt this presence behind me.

After a couple of intense days with lots of old wounds surfacing, I’ve been feeling a little rocked, not gonna lie. I’ve been a little back and forth on do I share or not, about the cultic abuses.

And as I sat here, reading this postcard, something touched my right shoulder, and also my heart. And I had the most incredible calm wash over me. A calm that I really needed.

And it reminded me that I am not the Aimee who left that community anymore. Nope. I am me, the Aimee I’ve always been. Just older and honestly a hell of a lot wiser.

It’s okay to open my hands and let it all fly away for now….

Thanks Ricky for the reminder of what life is all about. I sorta lost site of the plot the last few days. God damn it can be tricky being a human with super sensitivities.

07/06/2025

06/26/2025

I literally just woke from a dream.
The kind that aches behind the eyes,
from recognition.
The kind that leaves you
wanting to close your eyes and return.

What if that’s it?
What if all time is collapsing
into itself,
thousands of mirrors folding inward?

If all time breathes at once,
then maybe
we are all just dreaming,
each other,
ourselves,
these lifetimes,
and sometimes
we wake up inside one
and call it grief.

Sometimes
we find someone we already love
and forget we are still dreaming.

You kissed my forehead
in that place where only souls exist.
And a bear stood watch
at the edge of the veil.

You were not afraid there.
You didn’t rush to fill the silence.
You met it,
like something sacred.

I wanted to be the version of myself
you would remember.
The one the stars still whisper about
when no one is listening.

Thin, maybe.
Young, unscarred.
Shaped like the women you follow in this world.
But I am not made of pretense and performance.
I am made of smoke and memory,
the kind that clings to your hands
after the dream has faded.

You placed me outside the circle.
Turned your back on the thread
and called it madness,
as if forgetting were safer
than the fire of recognition.
As if the language I spoke
bent the world too far.

But I was never here to be safe.
I came to wake something ancient in you,
and it frightened you.

This lifetime is brittle.
Sharp at the edges.
Full of forgetting.

But I still carry the thread.
I still dream you in the shape of heat and water.
I still remember the way your soul pressed against mine
like a vow.

You will not remember me.
Not in this life.
Not as I am.
But somewhere, beneath your silence,
there is a flicker.
A tremble.
A gate.

And I,
I will not knock forever.
But I will leave the door ajar.
In case one night
you wake and remember
the sound of my name
before the world gave us mouths.
Aimee

ᛃTodays Blog post from a Brain Fog Dream. I’ve been blogging on my website. Link in my bio. ᚷ

06/20/2025

The Summer Solstice arrives in the Northern Hemisphere! And the Winter in the South.

I know the depths of loss and unraveling.
I know the depths of love, pure, without conditions.
I live somewhere between the two, always pendulating, always learning what balance really means.

Summer solstice has always felt like a breath, the kind that comes after darkness.
After the long months of winter.
After the quiet initiations.

The energy of North, Winter, holds wisdom. It is cold and dark and filled with the presence of the ancestors.
It is where I feel most myself.
I am a woman of the North. A wisdom carrier.
I have walked through countless initiations in the dark.
And still the turning continues.

Now the sun is at its height.
The energy of the Summer, the South rises

This season moves slowly.
Heat stretches time.
Fruits ripen.
Bodies rest.
The light lingers and softens the edges.

Summer solstice invites reflection. A quiet inventory of what has grown.
Gratitude for what has come since winter.
A presence that settles into what is without pushing and forcing.

This is where I land today.
Held in the turning.
Rooted in the whole of the wheel.
The dark, the light, and everything in between.

Sending you all Solstice blessings, whether you are here in the North experiencing the South energies of the Sun or in the South experiencing the North energies of the darkness.

If you read that statement correctly then you will see that one cannot exist without the other.

The light NEEDS the darkness as much as the darkness needs the light. Neither is better or less. They are what is. ⚖️☀️

06/13/2025

Yes, the world is in chaos.
Yes, there is injustice.
Yes, there are people in power treating human beings like things, like numbers, like threats.
Yes, it’s horrifying. And yes, we must witness it.

But fear is not the truth.

Fear wants to paralyze.
It wants to convince you there’s no point.
It wants to hollow you out and fill you with dread until you forget your own power.

Don’t let it.

Refusing fear is not the same as turning away.
It’s turning toward the fire of your soul and saying: I will not forget why I’m here.
I will not abandon the thread of hope and action and love that ties me to this earth and every living being on it.

You can stay awake AND stay human.
You can hold grief AND still choose wonder.
You can rage AND build.
You can mourn AND dream.

Don’t

This is not the end.
It’s a threshold.

DON’T GET LOST IN THE FEAR!

NO KINGS!

06/03/2025

To be a living threshold is not a role you choose.
It’s something you become
by staying with what doesn’t resolve.
By breathing through what others name silence and hearing it as song.

It means listening with your whole body rooted in the earth’s deep dark,open to the hush between stars.

It means waiting inside the ache,
not asking it to hurry.
Letting the unraveling happen
without rushing to call it rebirth.

There is wisdom here,
but it doesn’t shout.
It hums low.
It moves like water through stone.

This is the kind of magick that remakes you
in small, almost imperceptible ways.
Not all at once, but over time,
breath by breath, truth by truth.

To live this way is not about becoming more.
It’s about sinking in.
Letting what’s ancient move through you
without needing to name it.

You are the place where two darknesses meet,
not to battle, but to listen.
To touch.
To begin again in a language older than words.

Let that be the rhythm you keep.
Let that be the fire you tend.