On the last day of this nourishing break with my badass bike gang girls, I decided to carry out a solo mushroom ceremony. It was an existential, diamond skied psychedelic ride that ended with me building an epic fire and chanting to Kali for quite a long time. Let’s just say that a whole lot of familiarity, safety, self images and ways of seeing have been thrown in the fire, as requested, and it’s been wild, intense, dark and revelatory.

These seedlings would never grow if I didn’t make space, turn the soil, feed the soil, plant them in the soil. And so, of course, I looked at this seemingly ordinary task through the lens of soul because I just can’t help myself.

The Tantrikas were absolute fucking wizards at this game. Because they knew it was a game. Whatever identity, self image or story you are currently attached to is, in some way, limiting you. In order to believe your stories or perform your roles you have to exclude all the others. But all the others are still there to be played with.

As we transition into eclipse season, I am tuning into these themes of old doors closing so new ones can open. And I am not surprised by the synchronicity of our monthly New Moon refuge, Hush, which launches on April 21st, the day after eclipse season begins.