10/24/2025
I started a Substack. And renamed my brand Astrology Intuition. Find it at the link in my bio! Free or $11 for monthly Astro details. An excerpt.. …. All summer, I lived for these flowers.
They stood beside me through the long-awaited reckoning in my body I could no longer outrun. Through a school shooting scare days into my middle son’s high school intiation. Through the echoes of nervous system dysregulation that follow me home from my work as a trauma therapist. Through the unbearable and never-ending weight of a five-year stretch of survival stress I wouldn’t wish on anyone, that quiet kind of despair that barely shows.
And then… the world.
The heartbreak of feeling and watching this world. Love lost to fear. Compassion lost to power. My soul grieves for the lifetimes I have given to the pains of this world, somehow worsening in this nightmare timeline.
But the flowers.
I hand-watered my roses, my zinnias, my daisies, my ice plants, my scared corn and my Cinderela pumpkins all summer. I love them all. But oh… my dahlias.
You never quite know when the last harvest will be. That’s part of the teaching. The bittersweet beauty of holding two truths: the unbearable and the exquisite.
Like life.
Holding something fleeting and holy while the world burns. Falling to your knees when you finally accept that there is no choice but the heartache and the beauty of letting go.
First, grief.
Then, trust.
The leaves began falling in a quickening once the reality of my final blooms set in. I know I will write about the magic of snow soon. The sacred silence. But now, it’s grief. The wild ride of grief. And this earth school asking us always to gather the depths of our pain to transmute it to light.
The cosmos always knows.
