Hi friends! In case you weren't able to join Valley on Monday, I've just uploaded the recording for the Full Moon Activation here. Enjoy ☺️ The next Moon Activation is coming up on July 14, so be sure to check out the calendar https://www.skool.com/writing-fire-circle-7709/calendar

Hello beautiful humans!! I wanted to share a piece I wrote in a Writing Fire workshop this morning....raw, primal, messy, true. HOW DO THE ELEMENTS SPEAK TO YOU?? Air, let's start with you. The deep and delicious inhale, the fierce winds of change, the tornadoes and hurricanes of upheaval, the gasping for breath, air dripping with humidity. Breaking through the surface after a long swim, gulped air more delicious than any taste on earth. The clouds encoded with our dreams. Standing at the edge of my driveway, asking for a gypsy caravan to come and carry me off with the wind, my hair blowing around my face like the snakes of Medusa. Earth. And here we have the dirt and the grubs, the earthworms in the soil. The deep red clay that shapes and holds us, our nutrients, our bowls and mugs, our ancestors' caves carved with our first drawings and words — the birth of language into rock. The family of trees and forest, the gnomes and dwarves, the root spirits, the subterranean story networks reaching through the vast and mysterious depths of this great craggy rock, this beautiful, outrageous mother. The gems and crystals, the pebbles and sticks and stones, the mountain and the valley creating our earthly human home, our own hollow bones. Water, oh my blood, my tears, my sweat, my juice, my body. Bathe me, baptize me, dunk me, and then let me swim away, a mermaid with a powerful thumping tail — you cannot lock me in a cage or aquarium! The Epsom salt soak drawing out the toxins, the body's ills swirl down the drain. Salt-crusted skin in the ocean, the wildest home we've ever known. The rivers and creeks and waterfalls, the ponds, puddles, and lakes, moving water like the pulse of the womb until the water breaks, the flood comes. We are born. And fire, my love, when did you learn how to strike a match and gather kindling — were you a very young girl? The circles around the campfires in the Blue Ridge Mountains, the leaping flames always signaling that we were in ordinary waking reality no more. The comets, the fireworks, the steady glow of a candle flame, the torches illuminating the great feast halls in the castle. The fireflies and fire tenders and drum circles in cave gatherings, the dance that gets wilder and wilder with the roaring of the flames.