…with my hands in the garden soil during spring planting, I set my intentions and feel the tenderness of new growth and possibility…
…the winter winds whisper the necessities of slowing down in order to listen for what I need to cultivate next…
…my ancestral tongue and cultural practices re-member me back together and connect me to my roots…
…my feminine cycle, once cursed as an inconvenience, is now one of my wisest allies as the rhythm of my body leads me deeper and deeper into my intuition…
…the fall slaughter reminds me what it means to be embedded in this web of life, to need one another, the responsibility of acknowledging all our relations, and to be truly heartbroken in the face of death and endings…