This month, each ecosystem (including The Collective— our shared ecosystem) includes a poem, a longer horoscope, and a set of prompts for journaling, reflection, creation, or just momentary pause and pondering.
Don’t know your ecosystem? It’s super easy to figure out using your birthdate. Follow these instructions to find out how.
As always: Take what you need, leave the rest.
What we share
Unfurl in your soft
creases. Let your hands reclaim
what your mind cannot.
Healing our relationships to our own bodies can help us heal our relationships to each other.
I’m going to say that one more time for the folks in the back: Healing our relationships to our own bodies can help us heal our relationships to each other.
I don’t mean this with exclusive regard to our sexual selves, but that’s a big part of it, too. We have cultural work to do in reclaiming personal sexual sovereignty. We have communal work to tackle when it comes to remembering our individual bodily autonomy. We have a sacred duty to see ourselves as whole and holy, and to treat each other with the same recognition. We have a responsibility to know the stories of our own bodies and to release the narratives that others might place upon them. We have to be honest with ourselves about what our bodies have endured and wrought. What our souls can know only through physical expression.
This isn’t about retribution. It’s not about vanity. It’s not about calling out. It’s about calling forward what we expect from the world around us by being present in our own skin.
Self-hatred has a way of turning on others.
Are you in right relationship with your body? Do you attempt to punish it for not conforming to your— or others’— ideas of beauty or acceptability?
What are healthy ways to interrupt patterns of negative self-talk?
How does your relationship to your body affect your relationships with others, with the world around you, with the earth itself?
How might you use physical movement— sexual or otherwise— to connect to your body in loving, nurturing ways?
The Ecosystem of Will
The Magician, The Wheel, The Sun (1, 10, 19)
Brave the wilderness
of empty hands and unspent
time. Let your mind roam.
We’ve raised the specter of busyness, terrified that we might be caught not feeling frantic or frazzled.
We’ve been trained to focus our attention toward something, always, whether it’s adding to our lives or not. Doing and acting and expressing are good… Until we wake up realizing that our lives have become altars to worry and distraction. When was the last time you were truly bored?
I challenge you to practice not being busy.
I challenge you to practice finding even one single moment of stillness in your day. Then double it.
I challenge you to allow yourself time each day to be bored. Set a timer if you need to. Look out a window. Stare at a wall. Give yourself the opportunity to be bored and stay there for awhile. Notice what your mind reaches for.
What is your relationship to being busy?
In what ways are you attached to your work? How has what you do become who you are?
What would it feel like if you let your attention drift?
The Ecosystem of Intuition
The High Priestess, Justice, Judgment (2, 11, 20)
This much is true: It’s
taken an eternity
for us to make you.
Though it is a widely held belief that nature seeks balance, the past few decades’ worth of scientific research have arrived at a different explanation: Small changes can mean large consequences. You might be familiar with this concept as the butterfly effect, after the scientist who made this discovery suggested that a butterfly flapping its wings might ultimately cause a tornado elsewhere in the world. Nature is a highly complex system. And when a small part of that system changes, it’s hard to know what the end result will be.
Likewise: When a small part of you changes, it’s hard to know what the end result will be.
Being determined to maintain or achieve balance is tempting, but is it helpful? Be cautious that your quest for balance doesn’t undermine your growth. If you’ve made a change or decision, you might not understand what its impact is for awhile. The ways in which you grow may not be tangible to you this month, this year, or even this lifetime. I challenge you to trust that your actions have impacts, whether or not you see them.
What does balance look like for you?
How do you relate to the concept of balance in your own life?
What unexpected consequences of past actions have you lived through recently?
The Ecosystem of Creation
The Empress, The Hanged Man, The World (3, 12, 21)
Don’t fear the righteous
power of your radiance.
You will light the way.
It’s natural to feel timid or unsure or insecure sometimes. Maybe that’s where you are right now… Or just maybe you’re starting to feel the warmth and power of your own special light?
In either case: It doesn’t matter when you realize your own strength and power. You aren’t out of time. You haven’t missed any boats. There is no schedule for arriving at yourself. You were made for it, whenever it happens.
Those closest to you already see your light. They’re ready to follow your flame. You choose when to light it.
Are you waiting for permission to do something you’re called to do?
What work has led you to this moment?
Are you ready to shine? If so: How? If not: What do you need to be ready?
The Ecosystem of Trust
The Emperor, Death, The Fool (4, 13, 22/0)
What you see within
is the only guidepost you
need. Follow the signs.
We’re going to get pretty literal today, Trust ecosystem dweller.
If you’ve been practicing self-trust and listening to your inner compass, congratulations. Keep going. Celebrate your triumphs and forgive when you falter.
If you’ve been struggling with this, now is the time to allow yourself to try. Start small. Trust yourself imperfectly. Or even begin by recognizing when your self-trust fails. Notice the second-guessing. Take note of when you know what you need, but you turn to someone else to tell you. Make a habit of witnessing without judgement every time you convince yourself someone else knows better than you do.
Whatever you do, notice when you shrink your own voice. Notice when you hide behind your fear. Notice any tendencies you have to marginalize yourself.
Do you know what it feels like to truly trust yourself?
When do you struggle to hear your inner wisdom?
How might you take one, small step to practice trusting what you see within?
What structures can you build to support your ability to tune into your inner-knowing?
The Ecosystem of Knowledge
The Hierophant, Temperance (5, 14)
The truth lies within
the fibers of connection
you weave with others.
When you set yourself apart from others, you set yourself apart from the divine.
Whether you understand divinity as god, or spirit, or the immensity of the cosmos, it doesn’t really matter. Separation from others leads to separation from the divine. When we seek connection to others— through community, through romantic love, in friendship, or in small acts of generosity with strangers— we honor the sacred relationship that exists between all things.
Now is the time to stretch beyond the edges of how you understand connection, to recommit yourself to the people who bring joy to your life. But it is also time for interrogating the ways you draw lines between yourself and others. Thoughtful boundaries are healthy and necessary, but hasty or ill-informed boundaries can become towers of self-importance. Be sure you know which ones you are building.
How interconnected do you feel to the world around you?
What can you do to deepen your connection to others?
Do you hold any beliefs that keep you from connecting to others?
How might you interrupt tendencies to separate yourself from others?
How do you understand the divine?
The Ecosystem of Union
The Lovers, The Devil (6, 15)
ground by honoring what came
before. Be honest.
Whether you have found your footing or not, it’s time to reflect on what’s brought you to this moment:
If you are feeling a firm foundation below you, consider celebrating your triumphs.
If you are feeling a firm foundation below you, consider assessing who helped you get there.
If you are feeling a firm foundation below you, consider addressing what wreckage you might’ve left in your wake.
If you do not feel the stability you seek, this is a moment to shower yourself with self-compassion. Stability isn’t always possible. It’s not even a default state. We get knocked down sometimes. Allow yourself some grace. Be honest with yourself about what’s yours and what isn’t. Be honest with yourself about what you carry— the pressure, the worry, the attaining— that doesn’t belong to you.
Do you feel stability beneath you right now? If so: How’d you get here? If not: What needs to shift to gain solid ground?
In what area(s) of your life do you need to treat yourself with grace and compassion?
Have you been destructive or neglectful in any relationships as of late? If so: How might you either make amends or prevent such wreckage in future relationships?
The Ecosystem of Initiation
The Chariot, The Tower (7, 16)
You are not your thoughts.
We are not your opinions.
Let the facades fall.
You are being challenged to expand beyond the confines of your ego. This moment is ready to push you through the limitations of labels, identities, and expectations. You are more than a sum of your titles. This life is bigger than boundaries and walls. Your heart is more than a chipped glass.
The more you define and box-in the world around you, the less it is going to make sense. The more you assign roles to other people, the less opportunity they have to delight you. If you spend your time challenging the world to a duel, the world will arrive armed.
For the purposes of your growth in this moment, I am here to inform you: Opinion is boring. Posturing is tired. Self-righteousness is *so* last season. It’s time to lay down the need to know. It’s time to rest your instinct to be right.
Trees and stones and rivers have no affiliation. Shorelines have no hot-takes. Clouds don’t concern themselves with winning arguments. Visit and observe these wise ones. See what their spirit teaches you.
How have you become boxed-in by your identities?
Where is your heart? Where is the heart of your heart?
When was the last time you took in the medicine of nature?
The Ecosystem of Hope
Strength, The Star (8, 17)
to the ecstasy of flow.
Let your heart pump joy.
This moment doesn’t require more lists. Today’s inspiration won’t be found in an organized bin. You are ready to embark upon a period of joyous exploration and profound experimentation.
This isn’t a call to abandon your routine or alter your life. It’s a call to find creativity and flexibility within the helpful structures you’ve built. It’s time to allow your yourself space to lose yourself in joy. You get to find room in your life entertain your generative curiosity without expectation.
Show up for the joy of whatever you wish you had time to do— artistic creation, lighthearted crafting, reading that book, doodling in the margins, etc.— and allow your reward to be the time spent in flow rather than some tangible accomplishment.
And if you spend time in flow already, ask yourself: Who around me might benefit from my example? Your focused efforts are a beacon. Shine the light for others. The world needs this medicine.
If you could remove all limitations, what would you try?*
When was the last time you trusted yourself to get lost in the making of something?
If you spend regular time in “flow,” can you remember a time when you didn’t? How has your life improved since this creative revelation? How might you serve as an example for others to make the shift?
*Do these limitations exist, or are they self-imposed? If real limitations do exist, who can help shatter them?
The Ecosystem of Introspection
The Hermit, The Moon (9, 18)
Rest your heart, little
bird. Set the rush aside. Let
slowness rule the day.
Animals are able to slow their bodily functions to conserve energy— a state known as torpor. Less extreme than hibernation, torpor is most common during winter months when animals need to survive cold conditions or scarcity of food. A variety of birds experience torpor, allowing them to suppress bodily functions for a few hours to survive harsh conditions.
But torpor can be a dangerous state for birds. This energy suppression means that, upon waking, their reaction response is slowed and they become more vulnerable to predators. And if food is scarce, it takes even longer for birds to return to normal.
You are being called to sit in a state of torpor right now, little bird. Allow yourself a moment of rest. Seek stillness and comfort. Conserve your energy.
But know this: This is not a time to withdraw completely. This is not a period of hibernation. It is a period of incubation. The longer you retreat from the world around you, the more vulnerable you become to harmful patterns of negative self-talk, isolation, or to seeking relationships that do not serve your needs. What is incubated now must hatch later. Make sure you are nurturing what you wish to bring into the world.
What are you incubating right now? What do you hope to hatch when you’re done?
Do you have a tendency to isolate yourself? How does this tendency backfire?
What has your heart recovered during your moment of torpor?