The Earth is not waking up anymore—she’s alive. Buzzing. Blooming. A little feral, honestly.
This is the season of fire, fertility, creativity, and connection. The moment where what’s been quietly growing says, “Okay… now we live.”
In this episode, we talk Beltane as a threshold—where desire meets action,
where creation asks for courage,
and where life gets a little louder in the body.
We work with Rabbit medicine (soft, alert, wildly fertile) and explore what it means to step out of hiding
and into the open meadow of your own life.
No perfect ritual required. No pressure to get it “right.”
Just this question:
What in you is ready to live?
New episode of Centered is live. Find it on Spotify or wherever you listen to podcasts. Or, listen right here on the blog:
Episode 101: April 2026 Astrology, Tarot + Earth Medicine
April is a turning point—a high-energy, action-driven month defined by a powerful Aries stellium that moves us out of reflection and into embodiment. If March asked you to dream, April asks:
What are you actually going to do about it?
This month, we explore the balance between bold initiation and sustainable growth, weaving together astrology, tarot, and earth medicine to help you move forward with intention, clarity, and resilience.
Astrology Highlights
April 1 — Full Moon in Libra
A relationship reset. Where are you out of balance, over-giving, or avoiding truth in your connections?April 9 — Mars enters Aries
Motivation, drive, and action return. This is “stop overthinking and start moving” energy.Mid-April — Mercury enters Aries
Communication gets direct, fast, and honest. Speak clearly—but maybe don’t burn every bridge.April 17 — New Moon in Aries
A powerful fresh start. Initiate something new, take the lead, and trust your instincts.April 19/20 — Sun enters Taurus
Grounding energy returns. Build, stabilize, and sustain what you’ve started.Late April — Uranus enters Gemini
A major collective shift in how we think, communicate, and understand reality. Innovation and new perspectives emerge.
Tarot of the Month — Three of Pentacles
This is the card of sacred work.
The Three of Pentacles reminds us that our creativity, our purpose, and our livelihood are not separate. This is about devotion to your craft, collaboration, and building something meaningful in the material world.
Your work matters. And you don’t have to do it alone.
Earth Medicine Allies
Carnelian — Creative Fire & Life Force
A stone of vitality, courage, and action. Carnelian activates your root, sacral, and solar plexus chakras—helping you move from idea into embodiment.
Medicine: Move. Create. Use your energy.
Date Palm — Resilience & Sacred Growth
An ancient tree of life that thrives in harsh environments while producing nourishment and sweetness.
Medicine: You can grow something meaningful even in difficult conditions.
Camel — Endurance & Resourcefulness
A master of survival and long-distance travel, camel teaches pacing, conservation, and trust in your inner reserves.
Medicine: This is a pilgrimage, not a sprint.
Themes of the Month
Initiation & bold action
Sacred work and aligned purpose
Sustainability vs burnout
Resourcefulness and resilience
Building something that lasts
Reflection Questions
What am I ready to start—even if it’s imperfect?
Where am I being asked to take the lead in my own life?
What am I building, and is it sustainable?
Where do I need to pace myself instead of pushing harder?
What resources do I already have that I’m not fully using?
listen here
Work With Me
If you’re feeling this month’s energy and want support integrating it into your life:
Episode 100: Vernal Equinox + Ostara: History + Spiritual Significance
welcome to ostara, little rabbits!
aka the moment where the sun says, “okay fine, we can have equal airtime…for now.”
the vernal equinox is a threshold. equal light, equal dark, and then from here on out? we rise. this is the season of soft beginnings, tiny green shoots, creative urges that won’t leave you alone. and that feeling of “okay…I think I’m ready.” not fully ready, not perfectly ready—just…ready enough.
across cultures, this time of year has always been about rebirth. easter. passover. holi. ostara. different stories, same truth: life is coming back and so are you. your job right now isn’t to have it all figured out. your job is to plant something, start something, say yes to something, even if it scares you, especially if it scares you, because rabbit medicine doesn’t wait for fear to disappear. rabbit says, “move anyway.”
New podcast episode is live - Episode 100: the Vernal Equinox & Equinox: History & Spiritual Significance
go listen, go journal, go touch some grass (literally) and maybe…bury an egg with your intentions like the magical little weirdo you are 🥚.
Episode 99: March 2026 Astrology Forecast: Virgo Lunar Eclipse, Temperance Tarot & Spring Earth Medicine
This month walks in like a lion and leaves like a lamb — and somewhere in between, we get edited by the astrology.
March opens in Pisces fog. Mars moves into Pisces. Mercury is retrograde. Venus finishes her swim through emotional waters. Motivation feels tidal instead of tactical.
Less productivity theater. More nervous system attunement.
And then on March 3rd, the sky sharpens. A Total Lunar Eclipse in Virgo rises — and this one matters.
This eclipse is part of the Pisces/Virgo nodal cycle we’ve been living since 2024 — a two-and-a-half-year initiation around faith and function. Spirit and systems. Surrender and discernment.
Virgo doesn’t destroy. She edits. And this one, friends, is a sacred edit.
Over-functioning. Perfectionism. Trying to earn peace through productivity. This eclipse may reveal where you’ve been holding everything together alone — and gently remind you that you don’t have to.
As the month unfolds, heat returns (Venus in Aries), momentum builds (Jupiter direct in Cancer), and the Aries Equinox ignites the astrological New Year.
Tarot for March is Temperance — the angel pouring between cups without spilling. Balance in motion. Integration after transformation.
And our Earth Medicine allies support this recalibration:
Iris — blooming after winter, reclaiming your voice
Larimar — fire cooled by water, regulated calm
Great Blue Heron — measured stillness, sovereignty, liminal wisdom
March begins in fog, sharpens through release, reignites at the equinox, and then settles into embodied strength.
You don’t have to carry all of it anymore.
Listen to the full March Astrology, Tarot & Earth Medicine forecast here: CENTERED ON SPOTIFY
Episode 98: Lent, Ramadan, and the Spiritual Significance of Fasting
Why do so many religions fast?
Fasting is one of those practices that refuses to stay in a single box. It’s biological. It’s psychological. It’s political. It’s mystical. It’s communal. It’s deeply personal. It is both ancient and suddenly trendy with the biohack bros who have a podcast mic and hype protein shakes.
What happens when we choose hunger on purpose?
Across deserts and monasteries, temples and kitchens before dawn, human beings have stepped into emptiness — not because suffering is holy, but because hunger tells the truth.
In this episode, I wander through Lent and Easter, Ramadan and Eid, Yom Kippur and teshuvah, Hindu vrata, Jain purification, Buddhist simplicity, and even the Stoics who practiced voluntary discomfort. The theologies are different. The claims are not interchangeable. But the pattern hums beneath them all.
Fasting humbles the body. It clarifies desire. It strips away distraction. It reminds us we are not self-sustaining.
In ancient agricultural worlds where famine was never far away, fasting ritualized dependence. In our modern world of constant availability, it interrupts excess. Either way, hunger becomes a teacher.
This is not a diet episode. This is not detox culture.
This is about repentance and return, about submission and surrender, about resurrection and repair, and about learning what truly sustains us.
Because every fast eventually ends the same way:
With a table. In community. Steeped in gratitude.
Learn more about Angie at the Moon + Stone Healing.
Stir the Cauldron: Fire Cider Workshop with Erica Jo Shaffer 🔥
There is something deeply ancestral about chopping garlic with intention.
About grating horseradish until your eyes water and you laugh at yourself. About packing roots, citrus, and herbs into a jar and pouring apple cider vinegar over the whole bright, spicy mess… and letting time do its alchemy.
This is Fire Cider.
Fire Cider is a traditional folk remedy — an herbal infusion steeped in raw apple cider vinegar (with “the mother,” because we love living medicine around here). It blends pungent, warming, circulation-boosting plants like garlic, onion, ginger, turmeric, jalapeño, horseradish, lemon, and fresh herbs. After it steeps, it’s strained and sweetened with honey into a fiery tonic that supports the immune system, stimulates digestion, and wakes up your whole body.
Historically, fire cider rose to popularity through Appalachian and folk herbal traditions, and was widely taught by herbalist Rosemary Gladstar in the 1970s as a simple, accessible remedy anyone could make at home. It’s not magic in the “wave a wand” sense — it’s magic in the “plants have chemistry and chemistry works” sense. Garlic contains allicin, a compound studied for antimicrobial properties. Ginger and turmeric support inflammation balance. Horseradish and hot peppers stimulate circulation and help clear sinuses. Apple cider vinegar extracts plant compounds beautifully and supports digestion.
It is hot. It is bright. It is alive.
And beyond the science — it feels powerful to make your own medicine.
In this hands-on morning workshop, Erica Jo Shaffer — Reiki Master/Teacher, horticulturist, and the Wildly Crafted Woman herself — will guide you step-by-step in crafting your own jar of Fire Cider. You’ll receive an ingredient list ahead of time (you’re welcome to double it and make two jars). You’ll chop, layer, pour, bless, laugh, and leave with something steeping on your counter that will be ready to support you through cold season — or simply transform into the most incredible salad dressing or marinade you’ve ever tasted.
This is practical herbalism. This is kitchen witchery. This is community medicine. And this is what the Moon + Stone Healing Studio + Academy is all about - empowering you to create your own earth medicine.
If you’ve been curious about working with herbs but didn’t know where to begin — this is a perfect doorway. If you already love herbal remedies — this is a chance to deepen your practice and learn from someone who truly lives it.
Let’s not outsource our wellness entirely. Let’s remember how to make things.
Come stir the cauldron with us.
Register here for this in-person workshop!
February 28th from 10 am to 1 pm. Only $26. Spots are limited, and we’d love to see this class filled with warm bodies and bright spirits.
Episode 97: The history and lore of Imbolc: a stirring of the seeds
Imbolc arrives as a whisper between worlds — a quiet hinge between the deepest dark of winter and the first subtle return of light. Though the land may still be covered in snow, life is stirring beneath the surface. In this episode of the podcast, we explore the ancient roots of Imbolc, the layered meanings of ewe’s milk and “in the belly of the Mother,” the mythology of Brigid, and how this season invites us into gentle preparation, purification, and tending the seeds we’ve planted. If you’ve been feeling something quietly shifting inside you, this episode is for you.
Click the graphic above to listen on Spotify or listen on the blog below.
Episode 96: Astrology, Tarot, + Earth Medicine for February 2026
February feels like a doorway. With Neptune and Saturn activating Aries, eclipse season opening, and the Year of the Fire Horse igniting forward momentum, we’re being invited into a braver relationship with becoming. In this month’s astrology, tarot, and earth medicine reading, I explore the deeper collective cycles shaping February 2026, alongside the Tarot archetype of The Moon and the medicine of Moonflower, Selenite, and Wolf. This episode is an invitation into conscious self-awareness, shadow integration, courageous participation in your life, and remembering that none of this requires perfection—only presence, honesty, and the willingness to take the next true step.
aquarius season
welcome to aquarius season, beloved weirdos. the revolution will not be televised. It’ll be made into art.
It’s Aquarius Season — the time of year when everyone suddenly becomes allergic to authority, obsessed with systems theory, and emotionally unavailable in the name of “objectivity.” The vibes are curious-but-chaotic, compassionate-but-detached, and Uranus is here shaking the table like, “Who made these rules and why are we still following them?”
As an air sign season, we are now living in our heads. Rent-free. With 47 tabs open. (yo, for some of us, that is home.)
Aquarius energy is innovative, intelligent, humanitarian, and just rebellious enough to make boomers uncomfortable. This is the sign of questioning everything, refusing to conform, and caring deeply about humanity while forgetting to text back friends.
Aquarius doesn’t follow the crowd. Aquarius redesigns the whole dang system. And currently, we are living for that energy.
We are talking:
- originality as a lifestyle
- independence bordering on “don’t touch me”
- big ideas with zero instructions
- emotional detachment as a coping skill
- authentic eccentricity
Aquarius don’t play. Marching to their own drum is a way of life. Aquarius season is peak “I don’t belong here,” which secretly means “I see through this.” This sign is visionary, progressive, and ahead of their time — which is why they often feel misunderstood, alien, or like they’re broadcasting on a frequency no one else tuned into. And yet — here’s the plot twist about Aquarius:
this sign isn’t cold. it’s collective.
Aquarius is the Water Bearer — pouring out ideas, hope, and change into the world. This is humanitarian energy. Community-minded. Revolution-for-the-people energy. it's not rebellion just to rebel. It's rebel because something better is possible. There is hope here.
So this season asks us:
- What systems am I ready to outgrow?
- Where have I been shrinking to fit in?
- What truth am I afraid to say out loud?
Aquarius season is permission to stay weird, question authority, and care about the future like it actually matters (because it does).
Think differently. Stay weird, Water Bearer.
#AquariusSeason #aquarius
Episode 95: Astrological Forecast for January 2026
January is a threshold and a transitional month from a 9 year to a 1 year. It shows up like that friend who loves you enough to say, “Okay… holidays are over. What are we actually doing here?” Capricorn has entered the chat, the Hermit is standing at the threshold with his lantern, and Raven is perched nearby whispering, “Pay attention.”
In this episode, we walk right into the grown-up end of the pool: astrology, tarot archetypes, earth medicine, and humor — because otherwise the existential dread gets bossy.
We explore Capricorn season as devotion, not punishment — the slow climb, the long game — while Cancer’s Full Moon asks whether your heart is fed, not just your to-do list. We track big transits like Venus shifting into Aquarius, the New Moon in Capricorn, Mercury and Mars electrifying Aquarius, and the cosmic mic-drop: Neptune stepping into Aries and putting boots on our dreams.
Then we turn the lantern toward the deeper mythology of the Hermit — not isolation, but initiation. Not running away, but stepping back far enough to hear yourself again. From there, earth medicine arrives as the council:
Quaking Aspen teaching the truth of interconnectedness.
Lapis Lazuli calling us into honesty, vision, and ethical awareness.
Raven carrying voice, mystery, and threshold magic.
Together, they remind us how to carry our own light without abandoning ourselves — and how to return from solitude with something real to offer.
This month is refinement, integration, and holy practicality. Less confetti cannon, more “find the boots you can actually walk in.”
If you’ve been craving structure with soul, truth without cruelty, and spiritual work that survives contact with real life, this episode is your winter lantern.
Episode 94: 2026 Archetypes-the Wheel of Fortune, the Magician + the Fire Horse
Happy New Year, friends!
It’s Angelica — your friendly neighborhood bruja, omen translator, and occasionally the woman staring at cards in the corner saying, “Huh… that’s interesting.”
Every year around this time, I like to step back and ask:
What stories are we walking into together?
Not predictions.
Not doom.
More like: archetypal weather.
In this week’s podcast, I’m exploring 2026 through three symbolic lenses that have been talking to each other in really beautiful ways:
the Tarot cards of the year
the Chinese zodiac’s Fire Horse
and Horse in the South from the shamanic medicine wheel I work with
Before we get mystical: none of this is fortune-telling. These are metaphors — ways of paying attention.
The Tarot of the Year
For 2026, we’re working with The Wheel of Fortune and The Magician.
The Wheel reminds us that change is not personal punishment. Life turns. Seasons shift. Doors open and close. Control is… well, overrated.
The Magician stands beside the Wheel and asks:
Okay — given what is, what can I create? What tools do I have? What can I do with integrity and intention?
We’re not passengers. But we’re also not the pilot of reality. We’re collaborators.
Enter: The Fire Horse
Then we add another archetype in the mix: 2026 is the Year of the Fire Horse.
I’m not teaching Chinese astrology here — I’m honoring it as symbolic language.
Horse is movement, boldness, independence, momentum. Fire adds creativity, courage, heat… and sometimes impatience.
Historically, Fire Horse has had a complicated (and honestly, patriarchal) reputation, especially regarding strong-willed girls and women. So we reclaim it differently:
Fire Horse is life-force that refuses to shrink.
And that, to me, is holy.
Horse in the South
In the shamanic framework I was taught, Horse lives in the South — the direction of Fire.
South is creativity. South is transformation. South is the power that moves through us — not the power we hoard.
Horse carries prayers. Horse carries messages. Horse carries energy between worlds.
Put all of this together and 2026 doesn’t feel chaotic.
It feels like a year where power wants to move — and where our work is learning how to carry it wisely.
Not burnout. Not martyrdom. Not control-freakery.
Steady, sovereign, creative fire.
In the episode, I share reflections, some humor, and practical ways to ride this energy instead of getting dragged behind it.
We talk pacing, ritual, creativity, nervous systems, and — importantly — how not to set everything on metaphorical fire.
Click to listen: 2026 Archetypes
I also created some intersectional Journal Prompts and a Tarot Layout. (yes, it is shaped like a horseshoe for you!)
And as always, I’d love to hear what you’re noticing, dreaming, and working with. Comment on the blog or hit reply and tell me what’s moving for you.
With candles lit and horses unbridled — but gently,
Angelica
winter solstice + capricorn season
The Winter Solstice arrives like a held breath. The longest night. The quiet hinge of the year. A sacred pause before the light begins its slow return. 🌑✨
This is not a moment for forcing clarity or pushing forward. This is the threshold—where rest is medicine, darkness is fertile, and intention is planted beneath the surface.
For this Solstice, I’m sharing a Winter Solstice Tarot Spread designed to help you:
Release what the dark is composting
Name what wants to be carried into the light
Listen for the wisdom that only shows up when we slow all the way down
I also dropped a re-post podcast episode exploring the history, symbolism, and soul-level meaning of the Winter Solstice—across pagan and Christian traditions, the Wheel of the Year, and the quieter inner rituals we all perform when the year turns.
No hustle magic.
No glow-up pressure.
Just fire, shadow, and the slow return of hope.
It’s also CAPRICORN SEASON, WITCHES!
welcome to capricorn season, beloved overachievers. please take a number. then sit down. preferably.
It’s Capricorn Season — the time of year when everyone suddenly becomes aware of deadlines, bank accounts, bones, and the crushing realization that rest feels rebellious. The vibes are serious-but-sarcastic, the energy is competent yet depleted, and Saturn is here asking why you’re tired while fully knowing he is the reason.
As a Capricorn, I feel qualified to say this: we are so tired, like, ancestrally tired.
This is the season of ambition, responsibility, emotional restraint, and carrying way too much because “someone has to.” Capricorn energy wakes up exhausted, makes a plan anyway, and then resents everyone who seems to be having fun without a spreadsheet. That’s because we are convinced we built it, and nothing was manifested for us.
Capricorn doesn’t run wild.
She builds systems.
Then she maintains them.
We are talking:
• chronic over-functioning
• productivity as a personality trait
• rest that must be earned (spoiler: it doesn’t)
• humor so dry it’s basically a survival strategy
Capricorn season is peak “I’ll rest after this one last thing,” which is a lie we tell ourselves every year, and every year Saturn nods like, yes… one more thing.
And yet—here’s the twist nobody tells you about Capricorn: this sign is not about grind culture. It’s about sustainability.
Capricorn rules bones, time, and long-term vision. She knows burnout isn’t noble and exhaustion isn’t a flex. The lesson isn’t to work harder—it’s to build a life that doesn’t require you to constantly prove your worth through suffering.
So this season asks us: Where have I confused discipline with self-punishment? What if rest is part of the plan, not the reward? What if doing less is actually the most responsible choice?
Capricorn season is permission to stop romanticizing burnout, put the clipboard down, and take a nap like it’s a strategic decision (because it is).
I’ll be sharing Capricorn correspondences, astrology, and painfully accurate memes.
Rest is productive.
Boundaries are sexy.
You don’t need to earn your worth.
Enjoy these Capricorn Season memes while we all lie down “just for a minute” and accidentally have a spiritual breakthrough.
Episode 92: Astrological Forecast and Earth Medicine for December 2025
December is here, and it feels like a crossroads wrapped in a winter blanket. This month brings us right to the bendings of the lunar nodes—the karmic pivot points—where the universe asks us to pause, breathe, and decide what we truly believe. And at the very same time, Earth Medicine invites us to crawl into the cave, curl into our own ribs, and let the year settle into our bones.
It’s a potent mix of crossroads + hibernation, truth-telling + sacred rest. And honestly? That feels exactly right for the closing chapter of 2025.
In this month’s Centered Podcast, I walk you through the big astrology of December:
✨ the Gemini Full Moon that clarifies the story
✨ Neptune’s final station in Pisces (yes, the end of an era)
✨ the Sagittarius New Moon and what wants to be born
✨ Solstice + the Sun entering Capricorn
✨ Jupiter square Chiron and the questions it stirs
✨ Mars moving into Capricorn, where it finally finds clean direction
This is the month where dream meets reality, where intuition meets discernment, where surrender meets structure.
And alongside the astrology, we explore December’s Earth Medicine allies:
🐻 Bear, who teaches us to honor our cycles and trust the cave
💎 Blue Topaz, the stone of gentle, honest clarity
🌼 Narcissus, the winter bloom of self-recognition and soul-truth
❄️ Owning where you are, without shame or rush
🌙 Hibernation + sacred rest, as the most ancient form of preparation
December is not subtle.
It asks you to inventory the year with tenderness, to name what’s dissolving and what’s ready to be built, and to let yourself rest enough to hear the next true step.
If you're craving a quieter rhythm, if you're on the edge of a decision, or if you're simply exhausted from holding too much for too long—this episode is for you.
Listen to the full December Earth Medicine & Astrology episode here:
have you been following the
I’ll be offering 12 days of magical, limited-edition, ritual-infused offerings — everything from tarot to crystals to mini altars to grief medicine to sacred art. This is my version of an advent calendar for witches, mystics, intuitives, healers, grief-walkers, and anyone craving beauty + meaning at the end of the year.
Each day, I’ll be releasing one-day-only offerings that weave together everything I love:
tarot
earth medicine
crystals
ritual
grief healing
art
shadow work
energy healing
Expect:
The 2026 Moon + Stone Healing Calendar
Portable altars
Mystery tarot envelopes
Reiki
Solstice rituals
Crystal mystery bags
Shadow work tools
Grief medicine
Sacred art
Digital tarot goodies
Day 1 is still on until 12pm, and I am offering my beautiful Angie-designed Desktop Calendars with Tarot, Earth Medicine and affirmation for the month. A little irreverent and cheeky, but insightful and beautiful. Check out the offering right here:
Want to stay in the loop with the 12 Days of the Moon + Stone Healing Alchemy? Subscribe to my newsletter for monthly readings, podcast alerts, and deals from the 12 days of Alchemy.
Episode 91: on grief, gratitude and the holy scream
This week, I’m returning to the writings that shaped the earliest years of my healing after my daughter Lucia’s stillbirth in 2008. These three essays — one on the holy clearing power of the scream, one on the deep and complicated dance of gratitude during suffering, and one on the Buddhist tonglen practice — map my journey through grief, spiritual awakening, sobriety, and self-compassion.
These pieces were written from the raw center of my heart:
when I was newly grieving,
newly sober,
newly trying to exist inside a body again,
newly understanding what compassion actually means.
In this episode, I read:
1. “Scream, Baby” — written two years after my son Zachary’s birth and his time in the NICU, exploring pain, primal release, and the scream as an act of healing.
2. “Gratitude” — an essay confronting spiritual bypassing, toxic positivity, and what gratitude looks like when you’re grieving, not in spite of grief.
3. “Tonglen: A Meditation for When You’re in the Weeds” — a compassionate, trauma-informed exploration of the Buddhist practice that helped me breathe inside my pain instead of trying to outrun it.
Here is a brief (2 minute) meditation for those moments after you scream or when you feel stuck.
Here is a brief (4 minute) tonglen practice meditation:
If you’re grieving, healing, overwhelmed, or simply human — this episode is for you.
Here are some essential tonglen resources by Pema Chödrön:
Good Medicine: How to Turn Pain Into Compassion with Tonglen Meditation
Additional Articles & Teachings on Tonglen
“Good Medicine For This World” – an article on Lion’s Roar that explores how Pema Chödrön and Alice Walker talk about tonglen. Lion’s Roar
“Tonglen: The Path of Transformation” by Pema Chödrön (via Nalanda Translation) – a practical guide for the practice. Nālandā Translation Committee
Wikipedia summary on tonglen’s origins, practice, and context. Wikipedia
Additional Writings on Tonglen
Training the Mind: & Cultivating Loving-Kindness Chögyam Trungpa
Bodhichitta: Practice for a Meaningful Life by Lama Zopa Rinpoche
Old Angie writing
On Sensitivity, Neurodivergence & the Spiritual Design of Feeling Deeply
I’ve had a weird week.
On Saturday, while playing a spirited, borderline-competitive pickleball match (or three), I collided with my almost-11-year-old and managed to dislocate/hyperextend two fingers by landing on my hand backwards. As I was going down — in that slow-motion moment when your body knows something regrettable is coming — I thought, “Oh, this is going to hurt.” But there wasn’t enough time to fix anything. Crunch. Two fingers pointing in directions fingers do not point.
Luckily, my husband — who is both a nurse anesthetist and disturbingly unfazed by what I call “home surgery” — pulled them back into place. They were swollen, purple, furious — and, of course, on my dominant hand.
Do you know how much you do with your fingers?
Life handed me a minute to find out. And by minute, I mean, six days and counting.
I had big plans for the week: creating stained-glass ornaments for my shop, working on crafts, catching up on holiday prep for my Moon + Stone Healing Studio Open House on the 29th… but my hand said nope. As they say, we plan and God laughs. Instead of rushing around, I spent a morning at radiology (nothing broken, thankfully) and the rest of the week staring down all the things I wanted to do but couldn’t.
There’s a strange kind of Buddhist meditation in that liminal place — being unwell while daydreaming about all the tiny, boring, daily tasks you wish you could do… and remembering that when you’re well, those same tasks feel like they’re coated in anthrax.
Yesterday, I slept most of the day because I pushed my fingers too far the day before and the pain was intense. Ice, malachite, and unconsciousness were my only tools. By 3 p.m., even my hair hurt — my personal signal that I’ve crossed into the land of overstimulation, hypersensitivity, and the urgent need for dark rooms and quiet.
In short, if you haven’t figured it out already:
I am a Highly Sensitive Person. And I am absolutely, unmistakably neurodivergent — definitely ADHD, maybe a touch autistic, and probably a handful of other things I haven’t explored yet.
A few weeks ago, I was talking with a friend about ADHD, and she said she wasn’t sure labels mattered. And I understand that, I do. But I keep thinking about being a Highly Sensitive, neurodivergent kid in a “normal” world. My inability to do what other kids did with ease made me believe my brain was broken, and even further that I was broken. Grossly incapable, even when a therapist told me I was hard to work with because I was “a little more than capable.” Was I, though? I was burnt out and imploding when I went to see him. I was there specifically because I was not capable.
Truth is: I was the smart, “gifted” kid who could never keep it together, who forgot her homework, or whose dog literally ate it. The one who got constant lectures about “wasting my potential.” I remember a teacher yelling at my sister that she would never amount to anything and knowing — deep in my bones — he was yelling at me too.
That became a shadow wound I carried for decades, experiences filled with tiny humiliations and secret shames I tucked away like contraband:
I struggle with executive function.
I struggle with “normal life things.”
I cannot close cabinet doors (I literally don’t see them).
I forget basic tasks while spending hours alphabetizing my spices by region and use.
I am not wired like most humans.
I struggle to function in a world built for neurotypical speed and linear thinking.
I was always either too much or not enough. Always ON — dancing, performing, cartwheeling around town, jumping off furniture, kissing my mom’s hand until she lost patience (and honestly, who could blame her? There were two of us doing it — twin chaos).
Eventually, you internalize it. You can’t fit in. You are weird, loony, loud, sometimes too reserved. You believe with all your heart that your brain is defective. You believe you are defective. And maybe you start drinking because bourbon quiets that inner bully for a moment. Or I did. I did all those things. Can anyone relate?
It wasn’t until a few years ago that I learned I was neurodivergent — ADHD (a weirdo hyperactive woman) — and when I discovered the framework of Highly Sensitive People, something inside me finally exhaled. I saw myself clearly for the first time: the overstimulation, the big feelings, the intuitive knowing, the sensory overwhelm that makes even your hair hurt.
Finding the right language for my brain helped me begin healing that wounded, too-much child inside me. And I am still healing her. Every day.
All of this — the injury, the overwhelm, the (literal) hair pain — threw me back into thinking about what it means to be both Highly Sensitive and neurodivergent in a world built for people who… aren’t.
We talk about ADHD, burnout, overwhelm, sensory issues, autism, trauma patterns, emotional intensity — but rarely do we talk about the spiritual layer underneath all of that. The gifts inside the wiring. The magic inside the overwhelm.
For most of my life, I thought my feelings were the problem. My brain was the problem. I was the problem.
But now I know something I wish someone had whispered into my ear when I was seven years old, turning cartwheels in the living room:
My sensitivity isn’t a glitch — it’s a guidance system.
My neurodivergence isn’t a deficit — it’s a design.
Highly Sensitive People (HSPs) have what psychologists call sensory processing sensitivity — essentially, we take in more information and process it more deeply.
Neurodivergent brains (ADHD, autism, AuDHD, gifted wiring, trauma-shaped wiring) also take in more — more sensory data, more emotional signals, more patterns, more meaning.
Put HSP + neurodivergence together, and you get the deep-feelers, the intuitive ones, the pattern trackers, the artists, the healers, the truth-tellers, the mystics.
Not broken.
Not defective.
Just different. Designed for depth.
The Spiritual Gifts of Sensitivity & Neurodivergence
1. Hyper-sensitivity = intuitive knowing
Your nervous system picks up information before your conscious mind can translate it. This isn’t “overreacting.” It’s energetic intelligence.
2. You’re an emotional barometer
You feel the emotional weather of a room before anyone names it. This helps heal, guide, attune, and connect.
3. You’re a natural transmuter
You metabolize emotion — personal, ancestral, collective. This is healer work, even when it doesn’t feel glamorous.
4. The veil is thinner for you
Dreams, intuition, synchronicity, tarot, spirit nudges — they come through clearer because your inner world is active and alive.
5. Built-in compassion
Your heart sees the wounded child inside others. Sensitivity is emotional intelligence in its highest form.
6. Neurodivergent bodies reject misalignment
You cannot force yourself into toxic environments or inauthentic relationships without paying an emotional or physical price. Your wiring demands truth.
7. It’s a soul contract
Many of us come into this life sensitive on purpose — to heal ancestral lines, to soften the world, to create art, to anchor compassion, to help others feel.
Being sensitive and neurodivergent isn’t an accident. It’s a calling.
You Are Not Broken. You Are Built for Depth.
If no one told you this as a child — or an adult — let me tell you now:
You were never too much.
You were never not enough.
You were always the exact right amount.
Your sensitivity is sacred.
Your neurodivergence is a gift.
Your depth is your design.
I’m grateful you’re here — in all your too-much, not-enough, beautifully wired glory.
Episode 90: Astrology + Earth Medicine for November 2025
Welcome to November, my loves. We’re deep in Scorpio season — the time of year when the veil thins, the shadows stir, and transformation stops being an abstract concept and becomes something we actually feel in our bones. This month’s astrology isn’t here to make us comfortable; it’s here to make us real.
In this episode, we walk together through the cosmic landscape of November 2025, guided by the intensity of Scorpio and the wild optimism of Sagittarius. From the Taurus Full Moon that grounds us in our bodies to the Scorpio New Moon that strips us down to our truth, this month’s energy teaches us how to compost fear into courage, endings into beginnings.
We’ll unpack the big transits and explore what they mean for our collective healing. It’s a month of revelations, boundary work, and bold leaps of faith. Then, we turn to our Earth Medicine for November — Peony, Citrine, and Octopus — each offering its own kind of magic for this rebirth season. Together, they hold the energy of this month’s theme: Grab it while you can.
If Scorpio asks what must die, Sagittarius asks what you’ll do with the life that’s left. This episode is your permission slip to let go, trust your timing, and take the opportunities the Universe places in front of you — even if they scare you a little. Especially if they scare you a little.
🎧 Listen to this episode of Centered on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you find your cosmic medicine. Or listen right here on my website (see below)
💛 Follow along on Instagram @themoonandstone for Earth Medicine updates and daily astrology insights.
Episode 89: Re-post The History of Samhain, Halloween & the Days of the Dead
We’re going back to the roots of spooky season, my pretties. This re-post dives into the ancient fire festival of Samhain and how it shapeshifted into our modern celebration of Halloween. From Celtic bonfires to trick-or-treating, saints to spirits, and mummers to masks, we’ll explore how humans across the world honor their dead when the veil grows thin.
This one’s a listener favorite, so light a candle, pour a little cider for your ancestors, and let’s walk together between worlds.
#Samhain #HalloweenHistory #WheeloftheYear #PaganTraditions #HonoringtheDead #SpookySeason
Some sources:
How the Early Catholic Church Christianized Halloween by Patrick Kiger
The Pagan Mysteries of Halloween. JeanMarkale.Trick or Treat: A History of Halloween. LisaMorton.The History of HalloweenWhat's the Deal with Halloween? Everything Everywhere.
The Origins of Trick or Treating History Channel.The History of Mummers.
Interested in being in circle with me, honoring the dead on Samhain?
I am hosting a distance ancestors cacao ceremony and guided shamanic journey. Connect with the ancestors and find healing in your ancestral line. It is a wonderful way to start doing the work of healing and honoring the agrarian calendar.
talking to the ancestors
Future Ancestors,
As I look out on my land, I hear my ancestors whispering in my ear.
We are always here.
I know this, and yes, I need their strength all the time.
I did this incredibly rich ancestors' journey with Vanessa Codorniu. at Alta View Wellness Center a few years ago. I talk about this every year, so forgive me if you have heard it before. During that experience, I was just open. I love Vanessa and trust her, so maybe that is why.
I had no agenda. I had no idea who would come forward, but I journeyed to Central America, where my family is from, and saw them all there. My mother’s Abuelita Isabel with the curly hair. My grandfather’s mother Maria, who was fully Native, with her hat and pipe. Then out of the jungle, my ancestors with Mayan noses and headdresses and painted skin. Sitting in front of all of them, Vanessa asked us to talk to them. And so I did.
I had so many questions, particularly about offering of cacao to my people, and how to carry the medicine of my ancestors to my clients now. But when I went to ask them that, what came out was, “Why am I so fat? Why can’t I lose weight? Why do I have autoimmune issues that limit me?”
I had a student once tell me she was annoyed in our circle because people’s intention setting was around losing weight, and “THAT IS NOT SPIRITUAL!” She was so indignant. In my head I said, “The fuck it isn’t.” As a woman, when you are raised to see your weight and beauty as your main worth and commodity, being thin is valuable; it was much more valuable than your mental or physical health—gaining weight becomes a catalyst for old wounds opening, the spiritual illnesses of self-loathing and non-existent self-worth. How do you grow spiritually when you hate yourself?
There were times in my life when I was too poor to afford to eat regularly. I often worked in restaurants, so I would be guaranteed one meal. Other times, I just starved myself because I thought I was too big, too loud, taking up too much space. My neurodivergent hyperactive self would just break into conversation without waiting for a pause (Interrupting is STILL something I’m working on!). I wanted to shrink myself and learn how to be quiet and small for real for real. I didn’t always want to say the thing, and then, like Cliff Clavin from Cheers, word diarrhea—"well, did you know that a vultures’ stomach acid is so strong with a pH of 1—that it can dissolve anthrax, botulism, and rabies bacteria, so they can safely eat rotting carcasses that would kill almost any other animal, essentially sanitizing the environment as they go…” Cue 15 minutes of watching someone zone out. Then at night, lying in bed, replaying the conversation where I was normal. Shrinking seemed right, so I would just try not to eat, and stay small.
Self-loathing is decidedly not spiritual. It is the antithesis of spiritual, especially when your entire job revolves around empowering people to their highest expression, to coaching them on how to do the work of radically and unconditionally accepting themselves, walking hand-in-hand with them on their spiritual journey. I have taken months and year-long breaks because the self-loathing is too rough, and it feels unethical to hold space for others when I am in such a deep state of depression and engaged in this personal work of self-acceptance and self-love. So, yeah, it’s spiritual work, people.
Dare I say it:
EVERYTHING IS SPIRITUAL WORK!!
(I apologize for screaming at you.)
Back to the journey, my ancestor stepped forward and said:
You are the answer to all the prayers and wishes of all your ancestors: May our children not be hungry. May they be fat and happy. You are the child who is no longer hungry. You have learned to eat and be nourished.
When we do ancestral healing, this is what we do. We dialogue with our ancestors. We reframe. We understand. We humanize. We integrate. We break patterns. We forgive. We allow their wounds to be our wisdom.
What prayer did you answer for your ancestors?
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A few years ago, my niece said to me, "We come from a long line of witches, right?" And I laughed. It depends on how you define witch. But yeah, we come from a long line of Bitches.
When I call in the ancestors before circle, I call in all the healers and mystics in my lineage. But I also come from a long line of storytelling artists and mystics, bawdy women with good heads on their shoulders, from cooks and musicians, teachers and writers. But the drunks are there too, the ones who acted badly. I have a great-grandmother who denied her own daughter because she cheated on her husband, and gave her daughter away, only to have her son bring the girl to the house as a date to a school dance. Fula, as they called her, looked exactly like her mother, a mirror for her sins. (You cannot make this shit up.) She still denied her and forbade her son from speaking to her. Later, all the children of my great-grandmother welcomed her into the family. Fula laughed a lot and came to every family function, but my great-grandmother never talked to her or acknowledged her existence. God, that is some awful behavior. But my great-grandmother played 9 instruments, and spoke five languages, and made people laugh all the time.
I have clients and students who say, “My ancestors were awful people. What do I do?” First of all, it isn’t just you. We all have ancestors who were awful people. Some in different ways, but that is when we do the work of looking at the legacy of awfulness in your family line. If you don’t know your family line or family stories, that is something else to look at. WHY? The legacy in your family is that they do not speak the stories. Maybe they even repeat patterns over and over because nothing is ever learned or grown from. How I work with my great-grandmother, who was lovely to some of her children, and awful to one, I say, “Thank you for letting me be able to see this and break the pattern of the bad mother. Thank you for allowing me to break the awfulness.” (Instead of awfulness, you can replace that with breaker of our family trauma, pain, abuse, addiction, victimhood, etc.) When we reframe our ancestors —putting them in their historical, trauma, and family context —we can find wisdom, even if it is learning from their sins. Sometimes the deep grief of lives not lived, or their actions, can move through us. We can cry for our family lineage. We can cry for their victims, for ourselves, if we were the victim or them as a victim and victimizer.** This ancestral work is about healing and releasing. We get to be the conduit for compassion, love, and grief if we feel the ancestral lineage hasn’t been compassionate or grieved enough. We get to acknowledge the awfulness of our ancestors, too.
But we transform grief into gratitude through this process. Not for having lost, but for them having lived at all. They brought you here, after all, they created people who created people who created you.
Our Ancestors —the good, the bad, and the ugly —have lessons for us because they were human. This is the medicina they bring forth—their humanness. And not that anyone wants my opinion on this, but this is the beauty and awe of the stories of Buddha and Jesus—their humanness existed, their flaws, their character defects and defaults, but still they sought to heal themselves, then others. They found a path of spirituality that helped them and passed it on. This is also the lessons of our ancestors—that they were human and had a story, which is now part of your DNA. (Epigenetics is a cool rabbit hole to go down)
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Beyond just dialogue with my ancestors, I also think about what it means to be a good ancestor.
How do we become an ancestor vs. just another people on the family tree who died?
Writer Layla Saad, whose podcast How to Become a Good Ancestor, prioritizes this concept, as is evidenced by her podcast title. Basically, she says we need to live and work in a way that intentionally creates a more just and liberated world for future generations. That’s the idea. We live in a way that thinks about the next generations, the earth, the future. We each have a role in the ongoing story of humanity. We focus more on making a positive impact, rather than on our personal achievement. And that doesn’t happen magically, it happens by us engaging in our own spiritual, mental, emotional and physical work, such as self-reflection and understanding one's own role in family systems. Being a good ancestor requires us to break patterns of suffering, not just in our personal lives, but the karmic and ancestral patterns we all fall into that keep our children in suffering and then suffering of our community, which means dismantling things like racism, sexism, ableism…other isms (In recovery, we say -ISM stand for I-Self-Me.) We take intentional action and live from a place of hope, rather than just hoping for the best.
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I create an altar for Día de los Muertos* in mid-October, when I begin to feel the ancestors pushing against me. I call them in. Ask for their help. It is not simply because I come from a culture that celebrates this holiday (though I do), but because I am a bereaved mother. And this American happy-happy culture does a lousy job of honoring the dead and grief.
Day of the Dead is one of those holidays that has grown more and more mainstream with non-Catholic, non-Latino people creating altars, painting their faces, hanging up decorated sugar skulls, and dancing into the night. That isn't happening because others want to become or appropriate another culture, but because we are all hungry to honor our dead. We want to celebrate our ancestors. We want to walk with death, rather than hide our grief and whisper to our dead in the still of the night. It is only in recent history that the dead were hidden away from us, or that we were protected from the dying, the dead, and grief. All cultures from Europe to Asia to Africa to the Americas honored the dead.
So Day of the Dead, I create a space for my ancestors and my predeceased ancestral daughter, hang a painting of her and me that I painted in the early days after her death, and another of my ancestors, the ones that whisper to me in my sessions. I put calaveras and bright colors all around the altar as well as food, water, flowers and candles. In my mother's native Panama, my family walks to the cemetery to have a meal with the dead. They decorate the graves and commune as a family.
Those weeks with my Día de los Muertos altar are not simply a time to grieve, but a time to celebrate life. When we honor our ancestors, we acknowledge the wisdom they have given to us in life and now in death.
It is easy to create an ofrenda, or altar. Place photos of your relatives and ancestors in the space that feels sacred. I often use the top of my bookshelf or an undisturbed space. My mother uses her kitchen windowsill, which I always love too. You can put a candle, offerings of food, or herbs. Place a skull or skeleton (if you love the morbidity of representing the dead) and flowers. It can be as simple or as elaborate as you want. And you don't have to do this only for the ancestors you feel closest to, but also for those whose lessons were deep and difficult. Do it for your peace. If you have no ancestors you want to honor, do it for an artist you admire (Frida, anyone?), or a musician who has passed over. The days of the dead are considered October 31, November 1, and November 2nd. On October 31, All Hallows Eve, it is said the souls of the children who have died come back through the altars to the angelitos. According to tradition, the gates of heaven are opened at midnight on October 31, and the spirits of children can rejoin their families for 24 hours. The spirits of adults can do the same on November 2. November 1 is All Saints Day, when the ascended ones, saints, martyrs, and the angels are honored.
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If you are looking for a guided way to honor the dead, join me on October 31st for Cacao Ceremony & Muertos journey. We will first partake in the sacred cacao, then move into a shamanic journey to connect with the dead—whether it is your passed-over parent or loved one, your grandparents, ancestors you never met, but want to connect with, or a famous artist, sacred figure, philosopher, thinker, or religious figure. Join me on Friday, October 31st for our circle.
Lots of bonuses with this one, including a how-to guide for your ofrenda, how to make a cup of cacao, how to bake pan muerto or sugar skulls, and of course, the healing work we do together in circle. Everything is recorded if you cannot attend live.
*You can read more about El Día de los Muertos at this History Channel link. Just a quick correction, though, we celebrate it in Panama and throughout Central America, so it is not only a Mexican holiday.
**In the Body Keeps Score by Bessel Van Der Kolk , he talks about how PTSD sufferers from the Vietnam War often recounted the trauma they inflicted on others as the trauma they could not heal, because there is no outlet for talking about the awful things they did that they were ashamed of. Just to get nerdy for a minute, the unique part of training for troops going to Vietnam was the way they trained soldiers to fire at object popping up. In previous wars, they trained more as target practice, but since researched showed that a majority of soldiers in WW2 and Korea just froze when confronted with an enemy, the military decided to train them to shoot at moving objects with no faces or human characteristics, so they would freeze less. In the end, there are men responding to movement with gunfire and casualties of civilians and children were so high.
I hope to see you at the circle. Until then, enjoy this playlist I pulled together for Día de los Muertos.
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Have you worked with me?
I just want to humbly thank you for being part of my small business. Healing work, spiritual circles, coaching services, retreats, online classes and in-person classes, healing circles, and tarot readings are very personal experiences. Most of my clients, students, and workshop participants come from word of mouth. People love to hear about an actual experience with a healer or tarot reader.
I am looking for testimonials around my work as a shamanic earth medicine practitioner, retreat leader, tarot reader, teacher, healer, and circle keeper. Just share about what you have gotten out of an in-person or online class with me, a private one-on-one session or a group healing event you attended. If you belong to my membership group, I’d also love to hear and share your feedback about my monthly readings, shamanic journeys and FB group.
Fill the form below and share your feedback with me. If you don’t mind sharing your photo to showcase with your testimonial, awesome! (send via email at angie@themoonandstone.com) Otherwise, I will just share your words. If you had a less-than-ideal experience, I’d love to hear that too. All feedback informs how I adjust and change classes and offerings in the future. Here is the information I would love to have:
Name: First Name and Last Name (But what you want to be referred to publicly)
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