Meditation from my Altar

This week, I am working with self-care and self-love. I mean, let’s be honest, I am always working on self-care and self-love. But this week, I began writing a guide for our students at HMCA on Self-Care, and I went back through my writing on self-care, which inevitably took me to writing on self-love.

I don’t know who needs to hear this today, but it wasn’t that long ago that I realized what self-love meant. I mean, I'd give lip service to it in my 20s and 30s, but it wasn’t until my 40s was when I really started to understand what self-love looks like, feels like, sounds like and acts like.

What I learned is that it has to be self-generated. That seems like a no-brainer, but it hadn’t always been that way or me. I felt love for myself only if someone told me they loved me. I lived compliment to compliment, going back to my default self-loathing setting if I sensed rejection.

But true self-love doesn't care if you are rejected or criticized, self-love knows who you are. It doesn’t care if you drank 8 glasses of water, or ate a gallon of ice cream. Self-love doesn’t judge. Self-love doesn’t care if you grow hair where society says you shouldn’t or don’t grow hair where you should. Self-love isn’t about a number on a scale or on a calendar.

Self-love is an action phrase. It is healthy boundaries. It's not accepting unacceptable behavior. It is early bedtimes. It's walking away when you aren't loved in the way you love yourself. Self-love is learning to mother yourself and care for yourself even when no one is around. Self-love illuminates all darkness and skeletons and shadow shit, because self-love cannot exist with denial, lies or secrets. Self-love means you love you unconditionally, meaning without conditions.

When we decide to embark on the journey of self-love and radical self-acceptance, it means we become overly, abundantly, and radically accepting of every parts of ourselves. I no longer just love me if I do some external measure of “goodness” perfectly today. I love the imperfect me. Because, honestly, I am 100% perfect at being Angie.

It's the hardest relationship i have ever been in--toxic and abusive at times. But I'm totally committed now. I'm in for the long haul.

nice to meet you

It has been a while since I launched the Moon + Stone Healing—almost a decade of healing work through Tarot, Reiki, crystals, shamanic work + sharing my medicine, writing + research under my belt. I realize in all that time I have not spent too much time introducing myself. My first newsletter launched into a full historical discussion of the Corn Moon without a second thought about letting you know who I am.

I hoped “who I am” would slide into the background, anonymous in that way that we can be when we are of service to others. It was a thought borne of humility and shyness. Unsurprisingly, who I am infiltrates everything I do, every client I help, every class I teach. It never slips into the background. I often share my wisdom through my own stories and experiences—it is how Spirit often speaks through me. When I think of how often I tell a personal story to illustrate the medicine for my clients and students, I blush wildly.

“Gaw, Angie, talk less. Listen more. You are so embarrassing,” sighs my inner teenager complete with eye roll and exasperation.

But when I think about talking less, I wonder how much of it is truly humility or has it been, as I am loathe to admit, a fear of intimacy, a subconscious pushing back from vulnerability. If someone said, write about you. I would say, “Meh, all these people know me already—all I do is write about me.” Recovery has taught me many valuable lessons, but possibly most important is that my story, my mistakes, my “failures”, my experience, is my medicine. It is what I have to pass on. It is why the broken amongst us are often the best at holding space and being healers.

Thinking about “my story” reminded me of working with my mentor Pixie Lighthorse. She asked us to think about what we are exceedingly good at. She said, figure out how to tell your clients who you are.

And so, I thought about all these things I would say:

I am Angie Yingst, nee Kenna.

I am an identical twin.

I am 48 years old.

I love the color red, moss, mushrooms, crystals, plants, and animals.

But those things are not really who I am. When Pixie asked me this, what she wanted me to do is figure out WHO I am.

I am a mother.

I parent three children earth-side and one ever-newborn who died during labor at 38 weeks, so I am a joyous mother and a bereaved mother. I also mother dogs—an 8 lb Jack Russell terrier named Louie and an 80 lb Chocolate Lab named Charlie, who love to make trouble just when I jump on a livestream for our students at Hibiscus Moon Crystal Academy. I mother my clients by giving them unconditional kindness and positive regard, or you know, unconditional love. It is sometimes the first time my clients have felt that. I have mothered circles of people, taught them how to hold space for one another and for themselves and how to heal the deep trauma of being highly sensitive in a very sharp, loud world. I even mothered my father when I became one of his caregivers at age 24 until his death three years ago.

I am also a daughter.

I am literally a daughter of an immigrant who comes from a family of storytellers and musicians and drunks. My mother gave me strength, resilience, confidence, grounding, and healing through her journey to the States, her mothering, her nurturing, her unconditional support, though disconnected from her family, the rainforest and ocean, and her homeland hurt parts of her soul too Still, I learned the stories, the connection to the Earth, the medicine of my ancestors. My mother taught me resourcefulness and laughter. I am a daughter to a person broken by trauma and alcoholism who also taught me hard work and resiliency. I am the daughter of Mother Earth, like my father, I am also her steward, the one who carries her medicine.

But maybe most importantly...

I am a wounded healer.

...a curandera + a bone-picker, one who pulls the meat off the bone, examines it, helps process it, facilitates transmutation and regeneration, but even as a healer, I am wounded nonetheless. Simply, I was called to do this work. After years in deep grief, hidden alcoholism, trauma-burying, and caregiving burnout + fatigue, I found myself seeking my own healing. In thousands of ways, I sought it—through traditional therapy; through quitting drinking + 12-step recovery; though uncovering and working on my own physical illnesses, chronic pain, + the doctors; through meditation, prayer, + psychic work; through travel + howling at the moon; through learning the hard way how to create, hold + maintain clear boundaries; through learning about self-love and radical self-acceptance; through art, writing + creativity; through parenting and being a wife; through research + reading + experiencing other people’s healing; + through navigating my own deep wounding + shadowlands without imploding. And as I healed and continue to heal, I was called to help others, to hold the lantern in the dark, like the Hermit, to guide others through their own wounds and heal.

As a healer, it empowers me to watch another person find their truth, to have revelations about their path in this world, to make connections between the earthly realm and Spirit, to begin to live in the flow, and most importantly, to begin that process of reconciliation and healing, because I can still remember my own journey of uncovering my truths, of having those moments of great revelation and inspiration.

Through all these things I have learned what works for me to revitalize me. The slow surrender to the will of the Earth and God energizes me, validates my work. Circles of peers, long soaks in hot salted water, morning meditations and prayer time, regular sleep, simple food, conversations and laughter, walking/hiking, and art (painting, singing, playing guitar and dancing) restore and empower me. And my work. My work with you. That inspires me.

Thank you for being part of it, and being part of this amazing journey. It is nice to meet you.

Much love,

Angie

understanding the medicine, even when it is disturbing

Friends, this is an essay I wrote a few years ago on my newsletter. I thought I would revisit it on my podcast and blog today as it ties in with the Deer Medicine of this month’s Guided Shamanic Journey. If you are interested in receiving my readings at the Full Moon and/or New Moon, which are collectively pulled, but surprisingly personal, or if you are interested in received an audio guided shamanic journey with an animal each month, which goes in depth with the medicine of the animal, then has a 15-30 minute guided shamanic journey, I can read more in-depth about it under the membership section of my website: MEMBERSHIPS. Several of my journeys are available on my website, and I am working on getting them all up there with three years of guided shamanic journeys for my memberships, which have so many amazing journey including frog, horse, butterfly, bee, beetle, whale, vulture, panther, great blue heron, fox, cougar and more.

On the way to one of my mentoring circle, one of my students hit a deer. She was devastated. The deer most certainly will die, or already had died. She asked me, “What does this mean?” As a circle keeper and an earth medicine walker, I found myself stumbling over my words. Why does this happen to us who walk an earth medicine path? Others chimed in with their thoughts—the deer knew you could hold space for its transition; it was destined to die; better you than someone else.

A few years ago, after a circle, I was driving home. I live in the boonies, as we say, out in the sticks, where I worry about hitting deer. Pennsylvania ranks as the second most deer collisions in the country. So, I drive slowly, cautiously through the fields, and frequently stop for all kinds of wildlife. But I was still in the city, headed home, and bam, a deer ran into my car. It hit my front quarter panel. I pulled over and the deer laid on the side of the road, panting, clearly injured. I called the police and sent Reiki. I envisioned the Reiki energy repairing the deer’s legs and head, and strengthening it. I did this Reiki for almost 15 minutes, and the deer stood up, steady and whole, then ran right out into the street to get demolished and killed by a massive truck.

The truck tore the deer apart. I shook and cried as well.

What does this mean? Is it still medicine for us if we see our medicine dead on the side of the road? And how do we interpret it?

As I meditated on the death of the deer, I could see this interplay between the deer’s medicine and the encroachment of humanity. The medicine of deer resides in its deep vulnerability. When deer interact with humanness and urban environments, we begin to see just how vulnerable these magnificent creatures are. Humans have disrupted the balance of the predator and the prey. Our ancestors decimated the predators—wolves, mountain lion population, the bears—who would have hunted the sick and weak, keeping populations down. Massive deforestation also affects deer populations. Whitetail deer flourish in edge environments, right where the forest meets the suburbs. Streets and cars encroach on the delicate ecosystems. And hunting is down around the country with the ease of shopping for meat in the supermarket.

So, deer medicine is not only a medicine about the individual deer’s vulnerability to predators but the species. Deer, particularly those with antlers, have a strong connection to Spirit. Their antlers are said to reach high to our guides and angels as antennae for messages. Deer connects with the subtle energy system and has heightened senses from hearing to vision to smell. They are always sensing the disruption in the force.

I could not help thinking as my student told me about the deer and her accident that this was part of the critical message for her. Knowing that she is going through a beautiful spiritual opening, deer medicine can come in this way to remind us of our vulnerability during our spiritual opening. When we experience all this light and love that begins to channel through us from Spirit, we live in a bubble of good vibes. When I started opening, I just was always blissed out and only able to tolerate other lightworkers. When we take all this gentle light and vulnerability into the real world, our first encounters with the sickness of our society, the toxicity and negativity of people, the harshness of the news and the suffering of others, we experience this world just like the deer, hit out of nowhere by real life. This modern world is cruel to the vulnerable. Deer medicine embodies vulnerability, quiet, and gentleness. Nothing is more profoundly indicative of the imbalance then when nature interacts with urban life. Where we see how pollution hurts wildlife, or cars kill deer.

This grounded, counter energy to very high vibrational work is part of the medicine lightworkers need to carry as much as the light message of our power animals. When you open in profound ways, you are, of course, more susceptible to those deep wells of grief and compassion. But it goes deeper. There is nothing natural about carrying vulnerability or being an empath in a narcissistic world. We also have to experience and learn about the shadow medicine of our animals. Shamanic work is not always easy or light or fun. It is mostly about challenging ourselves to go beyond the surface, to experience the more profound message, to become stewards of the Earth, spokespeople for the Mother. When all of this starts, we want to live in that amazing Other World of Spirit. When we practice earth medicine, we become intrinsically tied to Mother Earth and Grandmother Moon, and their incredible cycles. Life and death, happiness and grief, masculine and feminine—this delicate balance becomes second sight to us We can see it without trying. Impermanence and suffering of life and of the human condition is part of our medicine and the spiritual experience. We must hold space for both light and darkness, birth and death. As we begin our opening, this can be a harsh reality.

If this happens to you, or you are driving and notice an animal sacred to you, dead on the side of the road, my suggestion is to begin asking what is the medicine for you—both in the animal’s living experience (how does it live, love, eat, hunt, raise its young, etc), then as your medicine interacts with the brutality of this world.

If you are able and feel up to it, take the hair or an item from the animal that was killed (always remembering that if it stinks, it will always stink. If it has bugs, your house will have bugs, so only newly killed animals can be harvested, but that is another post) and use it in ceremony. As medicine keepers, we need to honor the medicine and the allies and giving them a good death is part of this process. You can use that medicine you harvested on your altar or in a medicine bundle.

One thing I know is that none of us aim for the deer or squirrel or bird, so release guilt. Guilt is the illusion of control (if I did something different, it would have changed the outcome). Just be with the profound grief. That is enough suffering. Create a ritual of honoring the medicine of the deer. Sit in the discomfort of your humanness and the ways in which we can mitigate the harshness of our living on the earth. Allow the tears their flow. Fall into ritual and ceremony.

Remember anything, all of our human experience, can become our medicine. To ignore the death, suffering, and violence inherent in our animal medicine is to ignore the full power of its medicine. May you walk gently on the Earth, friends.

healing messiness

This is from my latest newsletter. You can subscribe here.

dearest friends,

The birds feast on the sorghum that has sprouted from bird seed. It is beautiful how they know how to do this, even if they have never seen sorghum before.

In the winter months, I watch the birds from my meditation room. They congregate around the feeders, the suet and the fresh fruit I put out for them. I put a handmade feeder on the deck this year, because I couldn’t reach it on the feeding station and besides, they are fun to watch during meals. I love the drama of it. My husband complained about the mess they made. He lost patience when a small carpet of sprouts began spreading in late Spring on the newly mulched walkways. We spent a few days pick axing, clearing, digging out and planting flowers and bushes to have these unsanctioned plants begin their fight for life and survival. 

I root for the weeds, I admit. I cheer them on in whispers and stolen words. Once you begin the process of learning what and why the weed-plants grow in your yard, it is hard to pull out the ones that simply were here first. They are designed to feed the native animals and insects. But I began the process of cleaning the birdseed from the deck. And by cleaning, I mean, I swept them onto the lawn, beyond the mulched pathways, right at this place where I struggle with the mower, because it is too steep and I have an active imagination, particularly in regards to my own death. I thought the birds might find some food among the grass and be apt to scratch at the Earth a little. Let’s see what happens, I thought. I pulled the mulch up with the sprouts, carrying them to a tree stump on the hillside, and simply spread them out. Grow here, I invited them. Fill in the area. Be plentiful. I put an old planter stand there too, and that is where I put the handmade feeder. Problem solved. 

It wasn’t long until I received a message from my local birders group that there is an avian pandemic, spread through backyard bird feeders and well-meaning bird enthusiasts. We are encouraged in the Northeast and Mid-Atlantic to stop feeding them at collective stations, so I just left the feeders heartbreakingly empty. Because I didn't have the heart to cull all the bird seeds that started becoming plants in Spring, they grew and grew in Summer—five feet tall and beyond. They covered the entire hillside. Now, I have the most amazing garden of sunflowers and sorghum and millet, colors of bright yellow and ochre and oranges and reds. The Sunflowers are beautiful and then when they wither and grow brown, leaves falling, the birds began to visit again, and eat the seeds. The Sorghum turns burnt umber and the birds come in droves to eat and pick at their amazing heads. Golden Finch and black birds, starlings and cowbirds, hold onto the strong stalks and peck at the seed that grew out of their own messiness and shit. 

This is something I relate to.

Finding medicine and nourishment in my own messiness and shit. Maybe that is what I should write on my website—Angelica Yingst, specialist in finding medicine and nourishment in your own messiness and shit. It is my new mantra--Nothing is wasted. I write so rarely in this newsletter and yet, you have probably heard it many times. I try to embody and model for my clients, my students, my children, my friends, and my family how to deal with shit. How to reach out, how to find a community, how to make things sacred. When I am vulnerable and open, it heals not only me, but also is of service to other people. I recognize this, and yet it is still hellishly hard to be vulnerable and open. I tell stories about bird seed and sorghum and shit because it is hard and I am having trouble getting to the point, so suffice to say, this is me sweeping my bird seed and my shit onto the grass to see what sprouts.

A month ago now, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.

It just came, out of a routine mammogram. Nothing extraordinary—no lump or bleeding or pain or strangeness, just something they saw on an annual scan. They told me it was early and that I was lucky. 

I feel lucky.

They told me in the same breath that I would have to decide what I wanted to do, which was basically one choice…one boob or two? Or rather a single mastectomy or a double? Which would I like? Would I like a single mastectomy or a double? 

With one boob, I could shoot archery like an Amazon, but I would still have to wear a bra with a prosthetic tit. With two gone, I could have a weirdly unnippled flat chest, which will probably be lumpy, rather than flat, because let’s face it my entire body is lumpy. I probably won’t like either choice, they said, but maybe this choice will save your life. We think it will. Maybe you can avoid chemotherapy and radiation and death, they said, but honestly, you are so lucky to have found it now. 

I feel lucky. I chose to remove both of my breasts.

A friend reached out telling me they saw a hawk flying with a snake. I saw the same thing a few weeks ago, like an Aztec myth or a Homeric saga, we are seeing similar signs. We wondered if it was a global message or a personal one. Maybe it is both...I can't help but think, in the way I did so many years ago when my daughter died, that life continues. That hawks capture snakes and people go to the mall and buy stupid shit and dogs bark at the neighbors even though things are happening in slow motion and in fear-o-vision for me. There are signs and synchronicities and healing, but I still have cancer. I am dealing with this by organizing my cabinets and buying hoodies.

When I was given this diagnosis, I kept thinking, "Angie, how will you make this sacred?" How can I capture this time before my breasts are gone forever? If I sprinkle this old bird seed and shit onto the grass, will it grow into something beautiful and nourishing? I know I will create artwork and write, because that is what I do with everything. I have created a crystal grid and an altar and called in Magdalene and Mother Mary and Kali showed up and Vulture…and yet, I simply want to lie in bed and stop the relentless litany of "Things I Need to Do Before DMX Day." And I can’t also, because the litany and the list are real and, from having done the lying in bed, obsessing about not obsessing thing, it doesn’t help. Organizing and making lists makes me feel in control when everything is out of my control.  

I am lucky. And yet, how will I release my breasts, the body parts that fed my babies (do you want tetita? I would ask them, as they turned their heads to latch on.) How will I release the chest they lean on, cuddle into, grab for when they are scared? How do I offer up the boobs that offered hugs to my hundreds of clients over the years and my sponsees who ask for their bosom hugs? How do I cut off the breasts that held pleasure and sensuality for my lovers? The breasts that are my husband’s favorite body part? 

It is easy to release them when I think of that time in my life when I was still a girl, when my breasts seemed to grow overnight. One day, my landscape was flat, and then small hills appeared. I remember how much they hurt when a football hit my chest. I remember when the boys started snapping bras and reaching over me, so they could graze them for a cheap thrill. I went from a flat, athletic girl to one leered at, an object of lust who still wasn’t sure if she wanted to play dolls or cut out Teen Beat pictures of George Michael. They have been the part of me people glared at, evidence that I was a slut or a hoochie mama intent on stealing their boyfriends. They brought derision and discomfort and pearl-clutching if I wore a spaghetti strap tank.  I have wanted them off since they were first unwantingly groped by creepy men or whistled at when I was just mindlessly walking down city streets. My breasts have brought annoyance and trauma and healing and love. It is a complicated relationship. 

This is the thing about us humans—even if we have never faced this particular crisis, we know how to make it sacred. I have learned to make it sacred by including people, by reaching out, by asking for support. Innately, we know how to eat the sorghum that grew from messiness and shit. We invite our bird friends to share.

*** 

I know this is shocking. It is shocking to me. But I have to tend to myself.  I have shut down everything in my shop—distance readings and healings, sales and memberships. I wish I could be present and hold space for you, but right now, this deep healing is reserved for me. Besides all I think all day is, “I have cancer. I am so lucky it is not worse.” My thoughts are dominated by this particular paradoxical truth. It is a niggling mantra that I keep wrestling with, like a Zen koan. I am devoted to my clients and students, but I am healing and coming to terms with this and making it sacred. And in that process, I have had to simplify and not be so bloody busy, as well as quarantine before surgery and prepare my home.

I have one more event before surgery on September 15th at Alta View Wellness Center with my bestie, Sharon Muzio. We are doing a shamanic healing circle on August 29th at 4p at Alta View—Sharon will lead the guided journey and I will do the hands-on healing. You can register here. 

I am beautifully interconnected to a vast, powerful circle of psychic, empathic healers, priestesses, shamanic wisdom and medicine keepers, seers, seekers, practitioners and beautiful souls like you, many around the world who I have been privileged to work with. If your expertise and experience falls into working with cancer, healing from surgery and making this process sacred, I’d love to hear about it. Please email or call (717-770-9109) and with that being said, hopefully, you understand that I am overwhelmed easily, so I might not get back to you immediately, or take your advice. Please do not take this personally as I am trying to intuitively navigate to what feels healing to me right now at this time. 

When I return, I will let you know. I may even write you a love letter or two.

Episodes 10 + 11: Essay about Grief, Suffering + Screaming

I took a little turn on my podcast as we were entering the holiday season to just riff on some ideas I have shared before, but seem relevant every year which is grief and suffering and how deeply important they are to just be in when we feel them. I just spent two episodes talking about all of this. If you want to hear some thoughts about why spiritual bypassing sucks, here ya go!

Episode 8: Ethics with Kyra Paules

In this episode, Kyra and I talk about ethics as a healer and tarot reader and some challenges we face in our community without a governing board. We talk about holding space, training and certifications, soul retrieval, shadow work and more.

Saying the wrong thing

from the Chrysalis Tarot by Toney Brooks and Holly Sierra

from my June 2020 Newsletter, which you can subscribe to here.

I don’t always know what to say when the world is in turmoil. And particularly in this moment when there is violence and righteous anger. When people are so polarized and afraid, it feels like chaos. This is another Tower moment for us as a nation. First COVID-19 had us tumbling out of the Tower. My friend Sharon Muzio said we are in a Tower moment with COVID-19, but we still are in mid-air, not in the Tower and not on the ground yet. And now, the country faces nationwide protests. The president calls for militarization and more police presence, while peaceful protests move forward. It is as though we are still falling out of the Tower, and now we are seeing the Tower collapse underneath us as we are still in mid-air, unsure of where we will land.

We are razing the beast, hopefully. Kali, the Dark Mother, comes in for this work. She is a goddess of death and rebirth. The tall Tower of oppression and systemic racism needs to fall. But it is all we know. Truthfully, I am here for it. But in this way? Seeing black people genuinely losing their freedom, arrested or worse, facing bodily injury to speak the truth of police brutality and racism in the streets. Tanks rolling into town. The infamous pictures of police with raised batons hitting people, black people, injured faces from rubber bullets and fear. We are hearing mixed reports of who is causing the looting and rioting—protesters or implants to make the protesters seem violent. We honestly do not know. It suddenly seems like we have woken up in another world. We were isolated in our homes, and now the streets are filled. But this is OUR world. We created this. So, we watch it come down, frightened and unsure how to move forward. We ask Kali to guide this destruction so we can rebuild and rebirth into a different world where we no longer have to say Black Lives Matter, because of course, they do. We see that sentiment in action in our government, in our actions, in our consciousness. 

I really struggled with my monthly offerings this week. Is Tarot silly in lieu of all this? What could I possibly offer right now? Is it spiritually bypassing this suffering to talk about woo-woo energy healing, earth medicine allies, tarot, journeying...I talk a little about this in my monthly reading (See below). But I mostly really struggled with speaking at all.

 - I want to say my heart hurts, but I know it is not enough and, besides, my heart is not at issue here.
 - I want to scream when I see another black man killed, but I am afraid of showing you my anger. 
 - I want to cry and throw a tantrum about all the pain black people in this country have suffered for 400 years, but I don’t want it to be about me (I am afraid you will comfort me and not do anything else.)
 - I want to walk away from the news and media and forget this is happening, but I don’t want to fall back on my privilege to be able walk away from this pain since black people cannot walk away from this ever.
 - I am afraid of saying the wrong thing in the wrong way. 
 - I am afraid of saying the right thing in the wrong way. 
 - I am afraid of saying the right thing in the right way. 
 - I am afraid you will see my own wounds around racism and being a Latinx womyn. 

I have always tried to be vocal about my dedication to anti-racism and intersectional feminism. But I feel vulnerable showing these things as a spiritual teacher. There is a belief that we need to be above politics and not in the fray of polarized views. We are not supposed to watch the news or care about this stuff. I hear it all the time. the news is too toxic and full of fear-mongering and low vibrational energy. We are just spirit, right? Heaven forbid that we show anger. Anger is so demonized in our metaphysical community. So, yeah, not talking about peace and love and light is scary.

And yet this time is calling for us to move into the fear and talk anyway. We cannot be afraid to make mistakes, to be corrected, to lose people offended by anti-racist views, to say something perceived as racist or oblivious or privileged. We cannot know what we do not know. So, I am trying to remain fearless and teachable.

I believe wholeheartedly that Spiritual work is about justice and balance. We need to be speaking out and connecting the Spirit with the physical body. Spirituality is not for the privileged few who are not in physical danger or threatened with injustices. In fact, I would argue, that is EXACTLY who we are here for. So, if you are wanting to learn more, welcome BIPOC (this stands for Black, Indigenous, People of Color) into your circles—spiritual and secular. Do the work you can do around your own internalized racism and subconscious racism. We can do this, not by asking black people to explain it to us, but by reading about it. Some great places to start:

Layla Saad in the Guardian put together an Anti-Racist reading list

Buy from black owned bookstore if you can.

Layla Saad has a wonderful course/workbook/book called Me and White Supremacy that is such an eye-opener.

This piece by Layla Saad is SO IMPORTANT. It is called "I need to talk to spiritual white women about white supremacy (Part One)”

Dr. Robin DiAngelo on White Fragility and Why It's So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism

If you have some money to donate to causes, here is a list of good organizations to support right now.

Support BIPOC teachers, educators, and writers. Often Black teachers will have a paysite (Venmo or PayPal) linked on their bio in Instagram so you can directly support their writing and work. They often do so much free education on Instagram and Social Media outlets for people who want to learn how to be allies.

* * * * * * * *

This month, our June allies came forth strongly, and as I have sat with them for a few days, I realize that they are so apt. If you are a membership subscriber, Tiger came through as an ally for us this month, so your shamanic journey with tiger will be emailed out. June 5th is the last super moon. It is in Sagittarius, and there is an eclipse. Plus, Mars is a perfect Square and June is facing 7 planets in retrograde. So, hold on for the ride. For us spiritually focused folk, our medicine allies can help us navigate these crazy times, so practice exquisite energetic hygiene and self-care. Ask me if you need some help.

Subscribe to get my posts when they go up!

Centered

One of the things I love about what I do for a living as a healer and teacher is having amazing conversations with people. Breakthroughs happen. Ways of thinking about our own journey evolve and change. I often say in my classes, I can raise your vibration, but you have to change your consciousness.

We are all on the path of healing. I grow because of the people around me, the conversations that are evolving. One of the things I have felt were most damaging to the metaphysical community is the BS. I really crave conversations that get to the meat of matters and really dig deep into the rich soil of healing work. I kept thinking about some of the conversations I have had with my friends who are healers and psychics when we are just bullshitting on the phone. We talk about HOW we do this work for ourselves. I am really interested in sharing some of those conversations, so I have invited some of my friends to talk to me about a topic. My hope is that it isn’t just get to know you conversations, but deeper conversations about specific topics.

I’m going to have regular monthly conversations about astrology, tarot, healing and other one-off conversations with spiritual people who are doing their work.

Listen to the trailer here:

Healing your Inner Child, a conversation

This conversation on Healing your Inner Child with transformational healer Walking Crow, renowned author and mystic Katye Anna and I was such a beautiful experience. Walking Crow and Katye Anna and I explore what it means to be triggered, how to recognize it is happening and then how to heal from trauma and wounding from a young age. It was a beautiful experience. I hope you give a listen and then comment below. Follow Etheric Connections on FB for more of their powerful conversations. Lloyd and Leslie also have an awesome crystal shop, that is currently closed due to the state regulations, but they are selling online and are happy to look at inventory and help you shop. Support Local Small Businesses closed for the foreseeable future. Comment below to continue the convo.

Mothering Grief and Humanizing Healing: A podcast convo with the Biz Bruja

Though I live in the middle of Pennsylvania, we have some amazing healers, practitioners and leaders in the global psychic and healing community. I work alongside one of the strongest channelers of energy with my healing companion Sharon Muzio, the owner of Alta View Wellness Center. Sharon leads the Spirit of Oneness Holistic Expo too, which is the largest spiritual gathering we have in Harrisburg. Vanessa and I are both present in this circle. We mention Sharon in this episode, so just want to give her a shout-out. Because Vanessa touches on this a bit in the beginning, we live in a community that feels small compared to New York City, but we have a vibrant community of gifted healers here. And the beautiful thing about being in a smaller community is that we find each other—the brujas and curanderas and mystics and medicine people.

When Vanessa Codorniu came to one of my circles, her dynamic, earnest energy lit up the room. She had been working in the huge community of New York City doing shamanic work, psychic work and ancestral healing. She had just moved to our community, and we have been fan-girling each other ever since. I take her circles. She takes mine. I have been blessed to have her in my circle of friends and healer colleagues. She is a gifted practitioner, circle leader, psychic and more. This conversation was so rich and expansive. it is because we speak the same language. She is not afraid of a little shadow and magick. She had interviewed me for this podcast in December, so pre-COVID-19. I want to say that because we mention nothing about what is happening in the world. I think we would have a very different conversation today. But I love the conversation we did have. We had some connectivity issues, so if you hear a blip or two, it clears up in a second.

I hope you enjoy this conversation with me and Vanessa. Let me know what you think by dropping a comment below, or sending me an email at angie@themoonandstone.com.

Etheric Connections's Divine Collaboration Virtual Expo

On Saturday, May 2nd, I was honored to be invited by Lloyd of Etheric Connections (like their FB page to keep updated on these awesome live events) to participate in a live Panel Discussion on how to transmute fear into love, and what exactly is the nature of this time of fear. It was a very cool conversation. We are actually having a more detailed discussion on Healing your Inner Child with transformational healer Walking Crow, renowned author and mystic Katye Anna and I on Friday, May 8th at 8pm. Follow the link for more information! Post any questions or comments in the comment section.

i come with the grief

As a writer, poet, and artist, I’ve done a fairly lousy job of sharing my writing on here. I have mostly only shared my work about crystals, tarot and spirituality. Part of my passion is social justice and work of people like me—women of color who wrestle with identity and spirit in the face of social injustice.

I also want to show up more in this space—my voice and my face and my artwork. I have lived a life or two. I am a child of an immigrant. I am Latinx. And so I cannot go through this life without being reminded of that. It informs my artwork and my writing and my spirituality. It is part of the space I hold for people—healing cultural wounding and trauma, ancestral wounding and trauma, societal wounding and trauma. This poem encapsulates that for me. I began this poem in a writing workshop with marybeth bonfiglio.in 2017 and started with a prompt: “What grief do you come here today with?”

This is a piece I have revisited a few times, and found it. I am reading it below. Let me know what you think. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

prayers

Gratitude needs to be the root of all my practice. When I wake in resentment, anger, fear, my entire day feels off. It’s not often that this happens any longer. I have reoriented myself toward gratitude. I start gently with a simple prayer of thanks, as my stiff joints shuffle to the bathroom. I use the beginning of the e.e.cummings poem.

I thank you God for most this amazing day.

I watch the sun come up over the snow. The first blush of dawn highlights the waning moon flanked by Venus and Jupiter in the clear winter sky. The beauty betrays the bitter cold of the morning. 10 degrees. I sip my warm lemon water, snuggled in a blanket.

God, thank you for the warmth of my home, for the ability to build a fire.

The beauty way seeks to find beauty in all the things and also to be the one to bring beauty. I cringe at the toys I can see poking out from under my couches, and the clutter that small children bring, and yet their smiles, the warmth of our home (not just physical warmth, but the warmth of love and acceptance), the laughter, the artwork created by big and little hands hanging everywhere radiates beauty.

Great Spirit, may I walk in beauty. Great Spirit, I offer myself to thee.

I am most thankful that I get to do this work of honoring Spirit and tending to the Spirit of others, helping others live in a way that is harmonious—gentle consumption, stewardship of the Earth, sacred living, self-care, and self-mothering. Through my practice, the work I have offered has evolved. From my first circle of psychic development to now, I can see how much I have deepened in understanding and practice. How each moment is a moment of living in shamanic ways. I continually deepen my practice, so this makes sense to me. I have been blessed with many teachers and mentors who continually teach me how to show up despite adversity and grief and life.

Great Mother, thank you for the women who walk before me, who reach back, hold my hand and show me the way forward.

Last year, I experienced deep loss from the death of my beloved father to both of my animal companions (my dog Jack and my cat Magnus). The tenth anniversary of my daughter’s death amplified the grief. I had physical challenges to my health, and emotional challenges to my worth. I have had all my stories rewritten. I have had friends step away. Institutions shaken up. I have had every solid tower in my life brought down to its stone foundation. Thus is the Tower year, the one that brings it all out. Kali, the Dark Mother, helps destroy and rebuild. I honor her way, though it is hard. I honor her.

Dark Mother, thank you for the destruction of lies, and for the solid foundation to build again. Thank you for steady hand on my back as I move forward.

I am in the process of truth-telling about these incidents, and the process of truth-telling about my past and my history, of seeing things with clear eyes. There are stories that I had come to believe down to my core that just aren’t true. I watch and observe and take notes now about what is true and what isn’t. It is powerful work. Challenging, humbling, but good work. This is what we are asked to do as medicine keepers—continually do the deep work we ask of our students, clients and mentors. 2018 watched the Tower tumble. I used Snake for this work, as my guide. Snake sheds the skin. Releases. Transforms. Transmutes. Heals. Regenerates.

Thank you, Snake, belly on the earth, for showing me the process of shedding my old, torn skin. Thank you for rising from the earth to open a way forward for me.

2019 brings me to this year of the Major Arcana card XVII, the Star. It is a card of hope, of optimism, of healing, of peace. It brings me to watching the early morning sky for the simple beauty of the cycles of our life. Gratitude reorients me due north, the direction of wisdom and patience, the long view only the ancestors can bring. I am reassured of this fact—every part of my journey is used. No part is wasted on the medicine path.

Father Sky, Mother Earth, I thank you for clarity, for the willingness to see the truth no matter how painful. Thank you for bolstering me in the darkness, steering me to my True North.

Gratitude remains the root ball of the strong, powerful tree of me. The one that bends with the wind, but does not blow over. I am grateful for your continued support of my work and mission.

belonging + be-longing

it’s been a while…that’s not from lack of love. In fact, every week, I put my weekly love letter to you on my To-Do list. When I write to you, my heart takes over, and even when I’m promising myself I’m not going to go deep, suddenly, there I am talking about that thing that I didn’t want to talk about.

It’s that way with this work I am called to do too. We want to stay light and shallow, but Spirit has a way of asking more of us, demanding we get honest and authentic right now. Presence, in fact, is just being where we are and honoring that walk.

I revisit grief this month, as my close friend lost her battle with cancer at age 45. Grief is this deep global, ancestral and cultural experience too right now, as we move through October—the month of collective honoring of the dead, and then on the heels of the hurricanes, earthquakes, fires still raging in the West…with all the natural disasters, racial violence, the shooting in Las Vegas (hell, the shootings every day in the US), with our own private and personal tragedies, we must sit with this extreme discomfort. I have no special magic trick for doing this work, except to just do it. Just sit and weep. Talk about how uncomfortable you are. Write long poems about injustice if you must.

I did this in August when I traveled to Niagara Falls, NY, to spend the day with Marybeth Bonfiglio at a writing workshop called Of Blood + Belonging. It was so good. I mean, so good. We explored the ancestors and this deep cultural grieving we are all going through. We cannot shift, raise our consciousness, ascend without pain. It is painful to let go of unhealthy ways of being—when we quit coffee, we get a headache; when we quit racism, misogyny, anger, violence, we get protest and violence and discomfort. When we hurt our environment for centuries, we get an Earth in revolt.

Marybeth asked us to ask how we belong, and how we be-long. And I thought about this so much since then, as what I see in the news and in the media sometimes makes me feel very Other. But that is not what I do anymore. I reject Other. I want to be Of. I want to be in your tribe, and in the tribe of all, even the ones who hate me. And so I wrote this:

I belong to the Earth. I belong to the morning. I belong to the Moon and her mysteries. I belong to the group of misfits and outcasts that belong nowhere with nothing, moving towards the abyss in the sacred dance of the wounded. I belong to Shadow and Light and Shadow again. I belong to the darkness that mines my suffering, my sins, my losses to bring light to another in the depths of the valley of hurt and grief.

I belong to all people, to all the people who don’t belong anywhere. I belong to the tribe of the untribed, to the citizens of the liminal spaces, that walk between life and death, between whiteness and brownness, between hetero and homo, between sober and drunk, between American and Immigrant, between the worker and the master, between the singletons and the twins. I belong to the exiled. To the runaways. To the orphans. To the unmothered and untethered. To the betrayed and the betrayers. To the spies and the sell-outs and the druggies. I belong to the Vultures who circle overhead, transmuting the rot, eating away the parts of us that no longer work.

I belong to the ones who are afraid of death and afraid of life, and manage to make that sacred. And I be-long, I mean, I long to be of the fearless, those that fear nothing and no one, who fear the boundaries which keep us from recognizing we are one. But I belong to the afraid who do it anyway.

Sometimes anger and bewilderment is our starting place.

This is what my work is about—creating a circle of seekers and misfits. I have some amazing classes coming up. I want to share them with you. In my circles, my center is about helping you process all this, and belong somewhere, even if it is among those that belong nowhere. There is space for doubt and for discomfort. Join me.

mothering

The breath catches in my chest. The cold hits me, energizes me. I am drawn outside. The winter air calls. I want to hike in the snow--to walk and walk and walk until I am way up in the mountains. The sound of my breath echoes in my ears, the cloud of it leading me deeper into the wood, higher into the ether. The sun flickers through the pine trees. It doesn't matter to me that it is cold. I dress warm, and stop when I grow tired, watch for signs of life. But that is not what happens when I step outside, daydreaming about walking for hours, rather a little one pushes through my legs and pops out the door ahead of me with no pants on, giggling wildly. I have children with me always. I wake up with a kid draped on me, his little feet finding a place to knead, a head finds its perch on a shoulder. When I close the door to wee in private, the door flies open, like the black hatted villain in a Western just slung open the Saloon door and is saddling up to the bar. Then it is the insistent, persistent calls for Mama, MAMMMMMMMMMMMA. Where you at? as my two year old says.

I was born maternal, nurturing my twin in the womb. Stuffed animals and baby dolls and then naming each fly that landed on my arm, and feeding it bits of water and fruit. Mothering is encoded in my dna, and writ on my body now is silvery stretch marks across my belly. I had three children in three years, then my fourth five years later. And I left my career to be there for my children. My body now is all mother--soft and low hanging breasts and lines around my smiles and eyes that show the love and joy my babies bring me.

For me, for many of us, mothering grants a daily spiritual experience. We bring this absolutely vulnerable being into this world, and then nurture it, watch it grow stronger. We love without conditions. We accept without limits. We give selflessly to them without a scorecard. Whether you mother human bubbies, or little fur babies, or your writing, or your artwork, or your home, or your own healing, the heart chakra cannot help but burst forth. 

And then imagine if we love ourselves this way. 

We would start a revolution. A wild love warrior revolution where we say to those negative voices, to the ones saying we aren't enough, or have enough, or give enough, "You are wrong, and I love you anyway too." Spiritual women and men often get teased about nurturing their inner child, as though it is a joke. And yeah, maybe it makes us sound a little woo-woo and emotional, but hell, I am a little woo-woo and emotional. I'm okay with that. The mothering of the Self is such a vital important part of us being able to mother anyone else.

As I continue on my work with Earth Medicine School in the second level, Pixie takes us deeper into who we are and what we do. And it has been an absolutely fascinating discovery into who I am. When I listed who I am, my first word was Mother.

I am a mother.

This is what I do all day. If you follow me on Instagram, I may post some artsy pictures of communing and meditating and doing cool artsy, bohemian stuff, but most days I am in the nitty gritty with a rambunctuous, curious, awesome, goofy two year old and two big kids with bigger emotional needs. I try to also post pictures of my kids crying too, because that is my life. It is all of it. The other day, for example, the baby had a bit of diarrhea, and screamed in ten minute increments on and off since he woke up. Because his bum hurts and he keeps pooping and he doesn't know what to do. And my job is to just hold him and rock him and change that smelly diaper and smooch his head and make sure he's hydrated and keep a stream of beauty coming so he can make it through an awful day.

When I go to work, I deal with people from all walks of life dealing with all sorts of issues, but maybe they too are in the same place as my son. They feel uncomfortable and don't know what to do.

I recenter my practice in what I know. When my children are feeling out of control, it is time to center. Breathe. Then I begin asking the questions:

Are you thirsty?  Drink water.
Are you hungry? Eat an apple.
Are you tired? Nap.
Are yousad? Cry.
Are you lonely? Call someone.

This is the same with my clients. Let's get simple. Let's breathe. Let's assess. Let's figure out your goals. What is uncomfortable for you right now? Is it your spirit? Is it your body? Is it your mind? Is it your heart? How are you uncomfortable? Are things too tight? Are they too loose? Is what you thought you had gone? Is it too heavy to carry? Is there a hole that needs to get filled? This sounds very basic, but it is the checklist I make in my head when I talk to a client. 

Nurturing comes by from setting boundaries some days. Other days nurturing is a warm blanket and tea with a good book. Other times it is saying yes to help. We don't mother each project the same nor do we treat each issue the same in session. With clients, I am a source of acceptance and non-judgment. How could I judge? I have worked on all kinds of people. People that look scary, people that look beautiful, soccer moms, alcoholics, witches, Christians, Buddhists and everything in between. I've worked on ex-cons and drug addicted moms and people with cancer and people who have survived the unthinkable. And whenever I close my eyes, their guides come. ALL of their gorgeous angels and spirit guides, animal guides and ascended masters come in droves expressing absolute, perfect love. They don't smell the cigarette smoke or judge that this person cusses when ordering take-out. I can feel that perfect love for each person. There is never judgment there. Only a suggestion, a reminder of our ability to release what is no longer serving, sometimes a redirection, but the thing that blows me away every time I work on a client is the amount of immense love, overwhelming love, Spirit has for us. It is profound. It is unconditional. Spirit loves us like we love our babies, with absolute awe and wonder, with reverence and endless compassion. And Spirit says what I so often tell my clients, "I wish you could see yourself the way Spirit sees you." As light. As love. As a heart. As a baby. As a wise sage. Who am I to judge when Spirit does not? It is overwhelming powerful and humbling.

But mothering isn't just about love, it is about constructing frameworks and boundaries, teaching ethics and how to behave in lovingly firm ways. I am not necessarily warm always. I am pretty masculine at times, blunt and to the point to avoid confusion about my expectations, but I like to laugh. And practice loving my clients as I love my children with awe and reverence and patience.

How are you showing up in your life? Who are you and how does that filter through your work? What or who are you mothering these days and how does it differ from the way you mother yourself?

thanksgiving

Two years ago, the snow gently fell all day, as I cuddled next to the fire with my newest little one, Zachary Michael. Though I was scheduled for induction, our little crystal baby decided to arrive early. My water broke and I labored for over thirty hours until he finally made his appearance. In distress, fluid in his lungs, they admitted my son into the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit for a few days until his breathing calmed, his x-rays showing his lung strong and clear again. My arms ached for him. I held myself for fear of falling apart, sending him Reiki from chair outside of his little plastic crib. To say I was in constant prayer was not an understatement. I called all the angels, the saints, the goddesses. I sat still in meditation and asked for Reiki and prayers on Facebook. I placed my hands on this crown and feet--soul and earth stars--helping incarnate. That is what it felt like--he hadn't quite figured out how this body thing worked yet. My friend Jack said, "It is hard for a spiritual being to become human. May the rest of his adjustment be easier than mine." And we laughed. 

As I sat in the NICU, watching my son struggle to breathe, I just kept thinking, "Scream, baby." They told me that the fluid in his lungs may have been caused from his easy birth--three strong pushes. That is what I prayed for after all and focused on--for my baby to just come quickly. He didn't scream right away, expelling that fluid in his lungs. He was content, lying on my bare breast after an easy delivery. But all that struggle down the birth canal serves its beautiful purpose of pushing out all the fluid in the lungs and pissing those little babies off enough to scream out the rest of the fluid that may cause pneumonia or infection in the lungs down the line.

I thought about that so much as I sat in the huge room of the NICU with all those very little sick babies. We have to scream and struggle against our own contentness sometimes. One of my Religion professors, my mentor really, used to say that babies cry and scream because they want justice. We come into the world knowing we deserve comfort, love, food, heat, people to care for us. No baby feels unworthy. No baby hates themselves. Babies scream because they won't settle for being ignored and unloved. And they stop screaming when people prove them wrong. 

The world talks about gratitude so much at this time of the year. But in this community, it is one of those spiritual principles we talk about all year. It is the elevator of vibration, carrying it up and open. Gratitude elevates our energy, opens us to healing. It is the gateway to forgiveness, love, and spiritual awareness. But I find that blanket statements of gratitude and platitude frustratingly miss the point. I think most of us recognize that we can say, "I am grateful for everything" and be done with it. But listing each of those things, appreciating the gift of them, the work we put into achieving and keeping them in our lives, recognizing their impermanence, focusing on those quiet moments of absolute thankfulness, are more the point. 

Gratitude isn't simple. We often have grief, sadness, suffering, illness, death, depression and other circumstances that create a stuckness in our own story. This stuckness can be an essential part of healing. It is the point before the scream. It inspires us to say, "I am worthy of NOT suffering." Think of the baby and mama pushing to get him out for longer than three pushes. They are suffering, pissed off. They are stuck in this tight space, ready for the world. If you have birthed a child, you know, this is the time when you are distinctly NOT thinking about how awesome it is to have a gigantic baby head stuck in your vaginal canal. You are thinking, "GET OUT." And the baby isn't contemplating how much fluid will be pushed out of his lungs. They are in stuckness, and feeling overwhelmed and can't really see the light at the end of the proverbial and literal tunnel. I think we do a huge disservice to tell people to be thankful when they are in that place of suffering. I believe with all my heart that all our suffering is there for a purpose, and yet it is not so helpful to be reminded of that during the suffering.

Struggling with gratitude IS the practice of gratitude. All we have to do is trust that our feelings when they arise are right and important and valuable to the next phase of our healing, even if our contemporaries shame us when we feel negative or sad or self-pitying. So the suffering--the feeling less than, unworthy, stuck--let this be the gateway to the scream that gets it all out. Let it be the catalyst for feeling worthy of not suffering. Can you find gratitude in your own screaming? In your own declaration of your worthiness? Can your suffering be a prayer of gratitude? 

When I am suffering, grief stricken or sick, I keep it simple. I look out the window, and find myself grateful for the beauty of a leaf twirling to the ground, for the air, and for my own miserable suffering, which reminds me that I am human and not a Buddha. For me, gratitude is an important spiritual practice, but our holiday of Thanksgiving transcends this individual daily practice. We gather our tribe and not gift each other things, not celebrate an achievement, or a person, or a God, but to collectively appreciate what we share as a family, or group of friends. We take inventory of those values we hold dear, and really appreciate what we have. As a society, we take this time to quiet and focus on home.

That is remarkable. It is wonderful to have this yearly community ritual of gratitude rather than just our personal daily practice of gratitude. And yet, I get why the holidays are challenging for so many who face dysfunctional families, estrangement, divorce, or grief. A few years ago, I took the opportunity of Thanksgiving to talk about grief during the holidays. I republished it yesterday, because I know so many of us revisit grief and suffering during this time. It resonated with so many at the time, and if you face difficulties during the holidays, it might be a helpful read. 

But I wonder if we can't reinvent this space of gratitude for those of us who are suffering this year. Rather than shaming those who struggle with gratitude, allow them to scream, abide their stuckness, marvel at their own righteous indignation of their suffering. It is our birthright after all to scream. It lets out the fluid stuck in our lungs. Helps us to take in fresh clear air, filling our heart chakra with the love for ourselves that we deserve.

My son's second birthday was on the 22nd. He turned two and is a bouncy, funny, silly boy who bring joy. I have so much to be grateful for, but I found myself grateful for all the screaming I have done in my life. 

So, on this Thanksgiving night, here is my blessing. It is the same blessing I gave two years ago after bringing my baby home. 

Scream, babies, and I will be dancing to your beautiful siren song of healing.

healing from friendship loss

In my newsletter this week, I began writing about vulnerability and shame. It morphed into a piece about friendship losses. Losing friendships has been such a profoundly difficult part of my life--one where I feel most vulnerable perhaps. Friends truly are the soul family we create. I have valued each person I call a friend throughout my life as a teacher, a collaborator, a spiritual partner, and a gift. Upon reflection, some friendships were there to show me parts of myself I would have rathered stayed cocooned in the back closet of my soul, yet those instances have been the greatest teacher, catapulting my spiritual growth. You can read the newsletter piece here. I wanted to share thoughts and tips on how to deal with friendship loss on an energetic level and healing oneself. I am not going to be giving any words on how to heal the broken friendship, but rather how to heal the broken heart.

Here is what I believe is important to care for yourself and nurture your spiritual growth through a friendship loss.

1. Don't call every person you mutually know to tell them about your friendship fall out. Allow yourself one telling of the story to another person--your sister, best friend, mother, therapist, or sponsor. Gossip lowers our vibration. When you retell the story, you stoke your anger. You feed that particularly wolf. If we don't play back the storyline of injustice that we are inventing in our head, and just sit, we can begin to feel the feeling that we've been pushing off and ignoring. So, just allow yourself to feel the hurt, rather than tell the story. See how the first is heart-centered and the second is not. The latter is getting yourself out of your hurt, and moving into other fiery places like your sacral and root where justice can be perverted into revenge. 

2. Take responsibility for your emotions. Your friend did not make you angry. You felt angry as a result of your friend speaking her truth. Very different. If she is purposely trying to hurt you, then take responsibility for not putting up your guard. It is not that your friend is not culpable at all, it is simply that we must be able to, as the Serenity Prayer says, "...accept the things we cannot change...change the things we can...." We need to understand what is our emotion, and what is an issue in the friendship. I had a friend who told me she needed space. First thing I did was shoot off an email to her telling her I was there for her. She just told me what she needed, and I did exactly what she asked me not to do. In my desire to fix things immediately, I overstepped the boundary she created. So also take responsibility for your role in the friendship loss. It is important, without beating yourself up, to own your role in the friendship. That takes pure heart-centeredness and self-compassion to own your role without taking all the responsibility. It takes practice to not judge yourself, so allow yourself to be quite terrible at this in the beginning. Just know you'll get better the more you do it, and the more heart-centered you are.

This grid is centered with Rose Quartz tower with Rose Quartz coming out from the center, then Dravite (or champagne Tourmaline, a wonderful stone for self-compassion), on the outer ring, Rose Quartz, Malachite, and Rhodochrosite.

3. Remember you are hurt, injured, and grieving, so treat yourself as such. Self-care is A Number One. Baths. Meditation. Lots of rest. Detox from Social Media. Eat clean, whole foods. Don't drink alcohol or use drugs. Feel the hurt. Cry. Practice Reiki or energy healing on your heart chakra. Or get energy work done. Surround yourself with stones for self-love--rhodochrosite, rhodonite, rose quartz, green aventurine, jade, watermelon tourmaline (or rubelite or pink tourmaline), and any other heart chakra stone you have close to you. I often do a grid for self-love during these times. I use aromatherapy for the heart and healing--rose, bergamont, sandalwood, orange, lemon, neroli, ylang ylang. 

4. Write a letter from your Shadow Self. When you are fired up, a great tool is to allow your Shadow self to write a letter. See, your Shadow (a term coined by Carl Jung) is your shame, the part of yourself you might not accept. Maybe you want to believe you have evolved so fully from being petty, angry or unforgiving that giving your Shadow any voice would give her power. If we do not accept these normal human parts of ourselves, our Shadow comes out in all kinds of dark ways. Give her voice. Listen to her. What you are listening for is where your hurt stems from, what places in your childhood this situation is activating, what other situations in your life (past or present) does this pain remind you of, and what you can release. I reassure my Shadow Angie that she is not alone, or that she is not diseased or a damaged person. This is a key to healing. It is not the suffering that is the problem, or the failure of a friendship, it is the feeling of shame, isolation, and loneliness that leads us to numbing behavior, seeking revenge, or self-punishment and depression. "I am the only one who feels this way," our terrible suffering tells us. No one is ever the only person to feel that way. Even if it is the ugliest, most horrible thought, others have had it. 

I allow my Shadow Self to have a say. I let her write a letter to God. You can address it to your guides, the universe, or your Higher Self if you struggle with God. Just sit down. Alone. No one else in the entire world will read this. It is secret medicine, and it is the point of the thing. Now, with your vulnerable, most open self, write about every feeling you have had regarding the loss of this friendship (this works with nearly all issues that come from shame.) All the ones you have called ugly, petty, shameful. Write it all. Don't hold back.

Dear God, 
When so and so did that, I was so mad, I wanted to punch them in their stupid nose. How could they be so cruel to me? Don't they know who I am? Why don't they like me? Why do I keep suffering like this? I will never love another person again. If I could talk to so and so, I would tell her that She doesn't know what she is missing. I'm a great friend. When she said I was self-absorbed, I was so angry, because my grief is a big deal, and I need to be self-absorbed right now.
Love,
Angie

Spirit can handle all these thoughts and does not judge. Give them release. When you are writing, you may cry and get angry and say WHY ME?!? a thousand times. That is okay. Give those shadow thoughts a voice. Let them see the light of day. What is giving them power is their darkness. And in the sunlight, you will be able to see that you are just a hurt person. Not a bad person. Here is where you tell the story for the last time. And then you fold up the letter, and put it in a box that can be a kind of God Box, or a Spirit Box. Some people use a shoe box, or a wooden cigar box. Once you put that letter in the box, you have now turned this entire situation over to God, or to your guides. You are allowing them to take it from here. So stop saying the same thing in your head that you just wrote down. Once you put it down, you don't have to pick it up again. 

5. Invite your Higher Self into the Conversation. I journal after a God Letter, and ask the question, "Spirit (or Higher Self), what do I need to learn from this situation?" This is where I invite my Higher Self into this conversation. Compared to your Shadow Self, your Higher Self is the part of you that knows your Soul Purpose, your life lessons, and taps into the Divine Source. You can get there through meditation and receptivity. Breathe deeply. Create a Sacred Space. Ask for guidance. 

I first write the things I have recognized from my Shadow letter. We hopefully learn the things we need to release (and accept). In my fake letter above, I ranged into self-pity. I also thought I should close my heart chakra. I had a lot of unexpressed emotions for my friend, which is a throat chakra issue. I also had that deep-seated feeling of being rejected. As an adult woman, I can work with that little Angie and comfort her from the rejection she felt as a child. These are things I then write on slips of paper--Self-Pity, Closed Heart, Shut Off From Speaking My Truth, Rejection. I write those out, then I write them on separate pieces of paper as transformational statements:

I transform self-pity into self-compassion. 
I open my heart and trust that my Guides will provide me with friendships that are meaningful and important. 
I speak my truth with compassion, calm, and love. 
I am accepted wholly and fully, just as I am, by Spirit.

One thing to remember, when I asked the question, "What do I have to learn from this situation?" in a Spiritual Counseling session with Rita Strough, she told me, "You are ascending and need to attract like-minded spiritual beings. These friendships fall away so others can come in. You did nothing wrong. They did nothing wrong. You are just making room for new people." That truth I see over and over again in my own readings with people--friendships fall away, so people with similar vibrations can come in. There isn't anything wrong with person A or person B. When we raise our vibration, we attract people with similar vibrations, and release the ones who don't resonate with us. Why would that make us angry? Even when someone hides their fear in attacks against us, we need to realize they are simple not resonating with us. Isn't that a much different perspective than "I am a bad person" or "I'm not likeable"?

6. Release what is not serving your Highest Good. I find ritual very cathartic, and so on release days--Equinoxes and Solstices, as well as Full Moon rituals, when I am absolutely ready to be done of this friendship drama, I might burn the God letter with the slips of paper containing that which I want to release from this situation. If you are working with a medicine bundle, or intention setting, remember that Spirit often gives us these situation specifically SO we release the things not serving us. I keep my transformational statement to carry in my medicine bundle or on my sacred space/altar. I say them every day for a moon cycle. When you are releasing something using the moon cycles, I release during the Full Moon or waning moon period. I set intentions during the New Moon period, and ask for growth in the waxing moon period. And also, I don't just do this. I wait until I am ready to release. Give yourself time to process your loss and understand what it is you are releasing and why.

7. Forgive easily and often. My first and final act (so this should be 1 and 7) is to pray for my friend. I don't know how to forgive in any other way than to begin praying for the other person. It requires nothing but willingness. I don't even have to release any anger or guilt or hurt. I actually get on my knees for this one, because it signals to Spirit that you are ready to embrace the humility needed to heal. Ask for your friend to have everything you want for yourself--peace, friendship, health, happiness, joy and understanding. Ask for your friend to know Spirit. When and if you have more karmic work to do with your friend, ask to bring them back into your life in a way that is peaceful for each of you. Express gratitude for the lessons (no matter how hard) they brought to you, and for showing you the places where you need work releasing attachment and ego. This is the way I have learned to forgive someone--to see them as a Divine Being of Light, as a hurt person, as someone who needs healing in the same way I need healing. If you have a healing or love grid, add their name to it. And add your own. I pray for them, whether I am still angry or not. I believe prayer (to the universe, or God, or your angels) activates your readiness to forgive. Does it mean the anger or hurt immediately dissipates? No. It means, you are showing Spirit you are ready to have this anger removed.

8. Ready yourself for new friends. I do this by working on my heart chakra. Heart opening crystal grids and layouts are wonderful. Yoga can be a great way, and just practicing self-care. Lots of self-care.

What do you think about the end of friendships and healing? What do you do when a friendship ends? Share it in the comment section of this blog.