step outside your doubt. protest your fear.

Step outside your doubt. Protest your fear.

I spent a lot of my years doubting my ability to create. To be an artist. Because I thought it meant being good at it, being outstanding, being mind blowing. Being super cool. Getting paid to do it. Having insane amounts of confidence. And wearing awesome clothes.

I have always created. But I hid my work because it was a mess. I felt it was a mess. I felt it was awful and ugly and made no sense. I doubted every last word. I feared that I wasn't made to do this.

And then there were years where I didn’t create, because it was such a mess, and I couldn’t stand anything that came out of me {oh if I could turn back time...} and I was scare I was wasting my time and resources and that whatever it was I was doing wasn't really worth my time... 

When I did get back to writing and making art, all the rules that I learned in school got shot out the window, not on purpose, but just organically, just because if I was going to sit down and do this I was going to do it my way. I didn’t have time for rules. Because I was writing from my body, I was writing from a place that wasn’t truly conscious. I was writing untamed. Because that is what my soul needed- for peace, for healing, for evolution. I could not be bothered with making sure it was right or that it even sounded right. I couldn't even question if it had worth. It had to have worth {to me}.  I had to trust that it was an action, an act, a process, a ritual, my self care, my healing. A place to unwind and be totally feral in a world that was constantly trying to tame and me and stuff me into a box.

There are different paths of devotion and healing and coming back home to your body. We all have our ways.

We all find our own way. I fiercely and consistently believe that. 

And some of us are here to make a mess {I know I am}. To create a beautiful, unruly, divinity inspired, flesh instigated, heart exploded, deliciously feeling mess of art. I believe we are all here born into this world as artists and we all learn to express it in our own way. There is no terms or definitions here, it's that we came here by creation and we came here to continue creation. Maybe like me you can’t draw a perfect human hand or capture the eyes on a face. Maybe you forget grammar and say fuck it to spelling. Maybe you just like to dance regardless of your size and shape or choreography, but dance because the sweat and sound and vibration of your hips winding around convince you that you are making magic into the air. Maybe like me, you just like to sit down and let your spirit pour out any way it wants to, apologetically. Unconditionally. Without reason or cause. Or maybe you like to make lines and lists and and having match up. Maybe you are thoughtful and careful. And that is right, too. You get me?

There are so many rules in this world. There are so many laws. There are so many definitions and regulations and paperwork and check lists. So many things we have to do the “right” way.

But this is not the case with art. Or with creation. There is no way to do it but exactly the way we do it. There is no rulebook. No guidebook. There is only you. And you. And what you feel like doing. And that is exactly it. 

I know you feel like you are not good at it. Me too And you feel it isn’t for you, that you can’t create. Or your analytical mind works overtime. Or that maybe you don't have time and being an artist or writer is for the privileged few?  That your life is jam packed and you must survive and work and feed and clean and sleep? Yes, I know that, very well. And so I steal time. Middle of the night. Early in the morning. When I am suppose to be doing something super boring. And you can too. Maybe your need to keep things organized and neat makes it impossible for you to let go fully and create? Your OCD have the best of you? Yeah, me too, me too.  You scared of what will come out? Are you a little frightened to see yourself in a formless, shapeless, way? The stories and the words might burn into your heart and sting a lot, the colors might be nameless and you will get lost.  But there will be truth. I can promise you that. There will be some truth within each moment you breath out into the making, writing, creating.

This is how we get closer to ourselves. This is how we connect. To our hearts. And in some ways, how our truest heart can connect to others.

Fear and doubt and the only things in your way.

Step outside your doubt. Protest your fear.

See it like a cage. And the cage door is wide open. You are a wild animal, fur and fangs and claws and gorgeously shifting eyes.  You have permission to leave the cage and enter an unknown territory where anything goes, where you rule the domain, where you just move to create a new life and every move you make is bringing you closer to freedom. You now are untamed. The leash is gone. No matter who you are or what you do, you get the right to leave the cage and make what you want, with nobody holding you back. 

This is YOUR RIGHT. To be free to create. Who cares if it’s good or looks good or is spelled right or you break every grammar rule or you say things that you cannot believe you would ever say? Who cares if you crack open and shine your light so bright that you get so addicted to what is made and you just want to keep going and going and you spend every last dime you have on paint. Who care if you crack open and ooze out the darkest shadow there ever was and it’s so mysterious and intense and scary that you have to keep going, because you know it’s guiding you back home, to you, to your riotess heart, to your artist’s soul, to the illuminated truth of you.

Step outside your doubt. Protest your fear. You are a creator. Now create.

we are all Mothers.

My 8 year old, who just got home last night from surgery looks at me and says

“I am so sorry, Mama. You have to spend your mother’s day taking care of me.”

“Are you kidding me? This is the best gift ever. It’s what being a

mama is all about.”

“But I want you to be able to do something fun for yourself.”

“This is for me. Having you here and being part of your healing. It’s the only place I want to be.”

I love this work. This mothering thing. It is an honor. I may not love some of the other things that seem to be attached to role, the domesticity our Velcros on to it {I suck at that part, truly} but I love the energy of nourishment and healing, to sit still and listen, to show up in love. I love knowing my intuition is based on this feeling, that I am here, holding space for others. Them. But even beyond them. Into the world. I am a mother in many senses of the world, beyond my own children.


This mother thing isn’t about being a certain kind of person.

It isn’t about being a women or even a mother.

I was thinking today, Mother’s Day, about all the humans who were not mothered. All the humans who have not had children. All the humans who don’t relate to “motherhood”. All the humans who feel entirely left out of the celebration and honoring of today. Just all the humans. All of us. This is inclusive. We have too many groups and cliques to separate us. This is something for everyone. Th is is something to bring us all closer together.

I also was thinking about how our culture attaches such strict definitions to things and we have defined and given this day a clear set of rules… that this is about woman who are mothers.

But I want to step back.

I want to break the rules.

I want there to be no rules.

And I want to try and re-define this day. And every day really, this is about something that is living, a living prayer of mine. About honoring something beyond a role or a gender and look at it as an opportunity to embrace and practice embodying an energy. A day to expand our awareness to take hold of this energy- that is less and less respected, honored and cultivated in our culture- in our fast paced, capitalistic, masculine, goal oriented driven world. On days like today we like to think we understand it, but have made it into a Hallmark holiday. 

Mother’s Day, for me, is a day to remember who shows up in service, with a specific vibe about them. Mother’s Day to me, is invitation for us all to become Mother. To own the energy. To do what Mother {as an energy} does: rises up, loves, and protect.

There are so many schools and programs that “teach” us how to be leader, how to be a better leader in our community and our world. How to coach, how to run business, how to make money.

But in my opinion, you cannot lead or teach unless who have some connection to The Mother Energy. This is an energy given to us by Earth, it is the ability to honor rhythms, to show up in nourishment, to hold up and to shelter with love. To refuse limitations and to change what we don't believe in. A true leader will always have service down, first. To serve, from the heart, is to mother.

This Mother Energy has nothing to do with if you knew your mother, or if you have a womb, or if you have carried life in your womb. It has nothing to do with if you go to work full time or stay home, if you breast feed or bottle feed. It has nothing to do with what kind of work you do or if you cook dinner or order take out. It has nothing to do with how "powerful" you are. It has nothing to do with your size or shape or how creative you are.

But instead it’s about all our capacity to serve. Especially for the men. Who tend to step up today and honor the mother in words and actions. But can they show up, in honor of their own Mother Energy? Can they teach it? Can they follow it? Can the see it as the guiding force in their lives? Can they embody their own version of Mother Love? Can they allow that to be their new atlas?

It is a form of Love. And the most divine and powerful kind.

And we are in dire need of more of it. There is a hole in the heart of the world that is wound that can only be healed by this kind of love. 

We all came from a Mother. We all go back to The Mother, the earth, the dirt. 

Mother Mary was always a guide for me. Her prayer was the first one I was ever taught and uttered. She was my first vision of "god".  I have been in conversation with her my whole life. She is my teacher. There was a tree in my front yard and I would lean against it for hours, daydreaming, but always talking to her and listening. The greatest message I ever received was to show up in nurturing compassion, to be a healer through opening the heart and to serve the world, to do whatever it takes to serve the world, the whole world, not just parts of it. Not just where I came from, but also what was unfamiliar. There was nothing in the messages about leading the world. But to serve the world.  Not serve in perfection. But serve in raw,  unconditional truth, the truth of the heart, the ugly mess, the passion, the love, the multi-emotions, the wild, the crazy, from the gut, from the hip, wickedly smart, sensually sexual, all the things:: To serve:: As a Mother.

I have been lucky and blessed enough to have three of my own daughters. I have also be gifted a wonderful, kind, and wise mother who birthed me. Trust me, I have lots of wounds and bullshit I carry around. My life hasn't been perfect. I have major issues. But this isn’t just about me. It’s about all of us.

For those who haven’t had similar experiences as me around mothering, I see you, and I feel you. I do not know how you feel, but I feel you and I honor you. You hold The Mother energy as well. And it is this energy that heals all the stories that have hurt you. How to begin? By mothering yourself, by loving yourself, and by knowing, deep in your heart, you are The Mother, and the world needs your mother energy, more than ever. As much as it needs mine.

There is nothing I know more than this: this practice embodying this energy is effective and powerful. It is an energy we all, in many ways, have been denied. But we have to bring it back. Begin with your heart. Look inside there... it may be cracked and bruised and it may hurt... but you have the most beautiful and giving heart. For those who feel like they don’t have the “mothering” gene, know that you actually do… it is the gene that brings your heart and your compassion forward. It lives in you {and it's not just for making babies}. For those of who think you aren’t a good nurturer… you are. Hold out your hands and give. You have a basket full of otherworldly gifts and wisdom. Pass it out, freely, let the world know them. For those of you who don’t have wombs, who don’t identify as “woman”- know this has nothing to do with gender definitions. This has to do with the energetic of Love. The Love of Mother. It has to do with you. Today is about you, too.

My prayer today, is that we break free from all the stories that keep us from feeling and becoming Mother.

My prayer today is that we all meditate on becoming The Mother.

Because The Mother wants to live in all of us. The Mother wants to be expressed from all of us. The Mother wants to serve the world.

This is how we heal the planet. This is how we care for each and every one of us.

I am calling for leaders, all kinds of humans, who embody this. The ones who don’t close doors and create boundaries. Those who don’t allow for death to be the way to freedom and justice. Those who are brave enough to vibrate the story of forgiveness and compassion, revolution and change. Those who are not scared to be led by intuition and heart. Those who are not scared to hug an "enemy" and feed a stranger. I am calling for those who surround, heal, and open their hearts, and are willing to risk their security for the entire earth population. Who are willing to risk their bank account so other's can simply eat. Those who are willing to let go of themselves, the ego, the expectations - to be there for others. Those who are not scared to cry and let the tears wash away the pain of the world.

As  my little 8 year old winces in pain in bed, I stop everything, including writing this, to wrap my arms around her and hum a song softly into her hair, not too loud becauseshe is so sensitive and not too tightly, because she is so tender. But to practice knowing how to show up, just right, in service to her. Exactly where she is. I will make mistakes today and every day. I will get angry. I will fall on my face. I will struggle with guilt and shame. I will doubt my worth. I will doubt my abilities to embody Mother. For her and for all my work in the world. I will doubt my words. I will doubt this writing. But this is my guiding force. To meet her, my daughter, and all that I meet, exactly where they are. Eye to eye.

I would like to eradicate today as a Day only for those who have been physical mothers. Not that we are not worth an entire day of honoring. It's not that at all.  We should get that kind of honoring daily, we are bad ass bitches. But instead, if we allow today, and all days, about practicing balancing all the other energies we have with The Mother Energy… if we learn to infuse The Mother into informing our decisions and how we work and lead… we become servants. Of Love. Of this world. Natural leaders. Without having to lead by control, force, or greed.

And this. This is my prayer.

That we, as people, all of us, learn to live this life in this basic truth: we are all suffering somehow, we are all dying, we are all trying. And each and every one of us can embrace and show up as The Mother. Divine Mother. Holy Mother. Mother of God. Mother in all her many, many faces. Mother of all. So we can live good and feel loved and be held and be fed… in this very short, very fleeting spec of dust we call Life.

Be the mother. Everyday. Be the one you wish you had.

Be the one that taught you love.

Be the one you wish you were but actually are.

Be The One. Be the One we all want.

We all have it in us.  It is us.

So today, I bow to you. All of you. The Mother in me bows + give thanks to the Mother in you.

photo by Danielle Cohen

photo by Danielle Cohen

Happy Mother’s Day.

love, MB



THESE READINGS ARE SOLD OUT. so much gratitude...... so much love. Come back next month!!

[excuse the typo in my graphic. i have no idea where the word 'up' went to. but maybe the better name for these is tarot pop]

I haven't had a pop up in a while. It's been one of those things. Like the cards asked for a break. And so I put them on the window sill or under my pillow and cleansed them a lot, and left them alone...  until they told me it was time to come back out again. I trust this process intensely. There is no forcing the creative or energetic portals. There is no forcing this life. There is just leaning in, trusting, playing with all the yeses and nos. And so I did. And here I am. Hi. I love you.

This round of readings might even have another deck involved besides TWU. I have been casually playing The Hermetic Tarot for a little bit here and there during my "divination break" and it's pretty alchemical and powerful and whoa-like. So I am thinking to bring those out as well.

This new moon is a good one, a big old open one, dark and earthly and real. It's actually quite practical as far as moons go. One that asks us : what are we really doing? what are we really calling "our truth?" when there are so many faces four truth. Is what we are living right now "truth" or is it leaning into old stories, old memories, old patterns that exist to keep things "level" when really we want change, or need change, but we are wary about the upheaval and the chaos of change? Are we sticking to something that doesn't serve us, because our ego is telling us stories about failure or fear... or we are refusing to step into something that is calling us because we carry around too many feelings of unworthiness or we are confused and don't have clarity around what is happening right in front of us, guiding us down our path. I am looking forward to doing ritual and readings around this new moon - and would love to do one for you, if you feel called to receive....

Only 10 readings available.

This month's new moon theme:

\\\the many faces of your truth///

*some goodies about the next few days from

mystic mama via Sarah Varcas :


“A New Moon in Taurus on 6th/7th May presents a choice: to live by the light of truth or the power of ego. In many ways this is the very crux of every spiritual path. The development of a healthy ego alongside a courageous spirit ensures we have all we need to navigate this world. 

“Ego is not the demon it’s often made out to be, but a tool to be used wisely. When healthy and mature it knows when to speak out with confidence, when to remain silent in humility, when to act, when to wait, when to grasp and when to let go. It becomes a wise and trusted friend who sustains us through times of emotional and spiritual drought. 

“If, however, we pursue ego transcendence before understanding its true nature, we falsely bypass a process to which we must return. Truth is as much an aspect of ego as of soul, of the mundane as of the spiritual.

“We are immersed in relative and absolute truths all the time and tasked with discerning the two, knowing which to honour, when and how. This New Moon reminds us that truth has many facesand a mature ego serves it even at its own expense.

“7th to 16th May sees a string of Grand Trines in Earth providing stability and substance. They anchor us as we process some of the more challenging emotions we may encounter, keeping us in touch with the earth and rooted in our inner space where all wisdom exists, awaiting the right moment to make itself known. 

“Jupiter stations direct in Virgo on 9th having been retrograde since 8th January. Efforts made this year to live more authentically begin to bear significant fruit from hereon in. It takes often mighty courage to honour the truth as we see it, especially when it sets us apart from others or challenges the status quo.

This month's pop up reading energetic addresses are:: 

what are the faces of your truth?

what is the truth of this moon, this phase for you?

what was once truth but now isn't?

what do you need to tap into the courage to face your truth, head on, heart on, full force?


I think truth is relative. I also think it's part story and part destiny. I think that at any moment it can change. It can morph. We can make it what we want. But we have to walk that line, of ego and non-attachment. We have to be able to dance and sway to live the question: what is truth? Let's tell your truth story for this moon, what is the next cycle of truth for you?


PLEASE click link to donate for a reading.  If you are wondering... on average, the donation is about $25... but some people offer way less and some people offer way more. I trust you will pay what you are truly able. Paying less doesn't mean less of a reading. Paying more doesn't mean of one. I just truly believe in a shifting economy where we all can be served. And I offer gratitude in advance. 




Bless. Love. Fire. Release.


the moon sessions

The Moon Sessions.

We all live under the rhythm of the moon. She keeps time under a dark sky. She tells the tales the tales of the tides. She reflects the light that lives in the shadow. She is the compass of wild. She is the intuition epicenter of the world.

7 days of exploring The Moon card. $40

7 days of exploring The Moon card. $40

This 7 day journey explores meanings of The Moon card and also dives deeper into the archetype of The Moon. It is an invitation to us to use The Moon as a tool and energy to call upon when she is most needed. When we feel stuck.  When we need to invoke our intuition.  When we need to understand our primal, emotional, raw beings.  When we need some crazy.  And when we need divine darkness.  

What does this card mean? There are so many conversations around it from insanity to fearlessness, from wild to psychic. And everything that may fall in between.  The Moon card is a mystery, if you ask me, and one that we often back away from.  She is DARK.  She is FEMININE. And she is a bit UNKNOWN.  These are things most people in our culture have a hard time with.  We tend to want to bask in the sun. OR. We tend to get stuck in the shadows.  How can we find a healthy realness to honoring the moon of our souls, the moon in the sky, the moon of the womb?

The Moon Sessions contains:

  • daily emails for 7 days {maybe even a couple more}.
  • meditations/rituals.
  • private FB community for conversation + creation + collective unlocking.
  • videos + storytelling.
  • living questions to embody.
  • tarot spreads around lunar wisdom.
  • prompts to practice living The Moon.

investment: $40

7 days of rhythm + questions. $40. 

7 days of rhythm + questions. $40. 

In these 7 days you will be invited to live the moon, to embody the energy of The Moon. To know her shape- from dark to round.  To feel her rhythms in your own bodies.  To understand “as above, so below”.   To know the parts of you that long for her, to howl at her, to uncage her from your soul, to remember you can say yes to taking a walk to the darker parts of your self, because the moon, she will always be your guide.  

The Moon card is an invitation, an initiation.  It is calling us to loose some parts of our over-domesticated selves and enter into the dark forest of our wild animal.  

The Moon card calls upon us to pay attention, to see the moon as our dreams, our intuition, or psychic evolution.  The Moon is our emotions, and the moon helps us remove the blocks that stand in our way for emotional + psychic maturity, the ownership of sensitivity, and the magic of subtlety.  The Moon is our map to the unknown parts of our most raw, fluid, feminine form.

$40 investment

$40 investment

This 7 day living tarot session is for you if:

  • you love tarot and want to be part of creative tarot community that goes beyond traditional meaning.
  • you want to get to know the cards... and one card at a time sounds like just the right pace
  • you want to embody the archetype of the moon
  • you want to dive deeper into the spiritual wisdom of The Moon
  • you love the moon and the energy it holds
  • you want to explore and ignite your own intuitive tarot practice.


7 days of being with The Moon. $40. 

7 days of being with The Moon. $40. 

The Moon is how we re-tell the stories of the oldest part of our brain, the story of dulaity, the story of not belonging, the story of lunacy, the story of seperation from all our beings-from angel to beast.  Why do we need to split into two? Why have we been asked to chose between The Sun and The Moon? Between animal and human? Between heavenly and earthly? We can become both the moon and the sun.  And together, we get to birth new stars.

$40 investment

$40 investment

how much do you love yourself.

I love myself enough to say enough.
To say all my nos'.
To say all my yeses.
To do all things despite
Being told my whole life
I am not allowed
Too risky
Not appropriate.
Not for a woman/mother.
Can't. Shouldn't. 
I love myself to erase those words.
I love myself enough to
do nothing, for days. and days.
And I love myself enough to
To not give myself
even enough
room to breathe
because i am so taken
and swallowed
by the hours of hungry creation.
ignoring everything
but the muse
who is breathing down
the back of
my neck.
I love myself enough
To make it be known
in this living room
to every person sitting right here
that i live in love, in love, in love
for myself
first for myself
and what kind of mother
does that? me.
and that love
is the most important gift
i can give to them.
it is the teacher i have.
a mother, who loves herself
enough to live this life
with her special style
of fire, burn, song.
and a lover, who gives a love that is born
from a whole me. not half. not part. not good.
but a whole me. 
a sister, who knows i cannot
circle until i have fully circled myself
with myself first. heard and seen myself. 
then i can hold her.
this is not selfish.
i am burning down selfish.
i am burning down humble
i am burning down vane
i am burning down the roles
i am burning down the cages
of definitions and expectations
and ideas and systemic stories
the ones that keep
me away from me.
i am burning down the walls
the ideas
that there
isn't an ounce of me
than can be
what she is not.

self seduction is liberation.
it is the ultimate practice for self-lessness + non- attachment.
it is a very large gift for this very love deprived world.

i love myself so much, that tonight, on this visionary new moon, i am going to map a trip i have wanted to take since forever and put all my favorite AirBnB spots on the island of Sicily on my wishlist and i'll sit here with the candles lit and embody what it will feel like to lay my cheeks against the dirt, and to write under the smell of jasmine and citrus and sea salt. what it will feel like to be home. i will begin turning this wheel. now. 

magic happens when you love yourself so much that you are willing to say yes to not only what you need, but what you want. usually they are blood relatives. you are not one dimensional. you are not your roles or your jobs or the systems that try and define you. you are you. with an immaculate messy heart. inimitable. an imprint. the most amazing particle of dust, along with the rest of us.

if you want to re- activate your forever practice of self-love through stories, rituals, recipes, and paying darn good attention to your heart, i'd be honored to send you 28 emails to remind you that the love your turn inward, toward yourself, will magnify and potentize the love your send out there. the earth turns because of this kind of love, the love of you.

28 days + 28 revolutionary emails.


Seduce Yourself {a 28 day journey}



I am not messing around.  I am for real.  Come along with me and make love to your fine self.

Every day, for 28 days you will receive an email:

  • with questions + stories + propositions

  • simple potions, seductions, rituals

  • mantras, visions, love letters.  

  • very simple, organic ways to live in the seduction of the self, to be good to yourself, easy on yourself, feel good, and know that you are worth this love. 

Seduce Yourself-2.jpg

{this is a loud call out to the universe and an invitation for you to join me in a unique + unified Voice}

I have spent years looking at myself in the mirror- and what I saw- I didn’t love.   

I saw was an over-worked, exhausted, hadn’t showered in over a week, bags under the eyes, loneliness in the eyes, half-present, half-alive, wound up too tight, impatient, unenergized, undernourished little girl who had been ignored.  By herself. 

I was tapped of self-love. Maybe I felt I wasn’t worth it anymore. I know I had it before. But it seemed to be hidden, gone.

You cannot love others deeply or be loved by others truly unless you shower yourself with love that comes from the seed of your heart and the essence of your blood.  You know all the “things” that come into your life when you aren’t madly in love with yourself? I was constantly trying to release it all under the dark of the moon or into the ocean's waves or burn up on little pieces of paper in the fire? I went through all the motions, trust me.  But I did not embody self-love. I lived it on the surface, but wanted to skip to the end results without putting in all the work- the work of using LOVE as an action, a vibration, an offering towards Self. 

 I was so busy mustering up the energy to love and care for others,  that I lost connection with self love and made a mess in my relationships.  There was literally no reserve or care for myself and so my people suffered too.  

So here I stand.  With a gorgeous, vibrant daughter cusping her teen years.  Another old soul of a daughter watching my every move very closely.  Another wee daughter who hasn’t even come out of her self-infatuation incarnation, her beautiful love affair with herself hasn’t yet been interrupted. I am fully responsible for them and their own love journey.  

I want to Love myself like the kind god has.  Like the kind you have for god. Love like Our Lady’s Love, like Quan Yin's Love, like Oshun’s Love, like Kali’s Love, so fierce and so strong and so bold it can sever the heads off Hate. Love like you love yourself more than anyone can ever love anything in the universe. Love Yourself like that.

I want to get turned on by not only by *how*  I feel, but turned on to why I am here. 


I want to love myself back Home.  Love myself back to my original and delicious sin.  I want to taste the apple.  Bite into it and let the juice splatter everywhere and get me all sticky and wet and strip my clothes off and lay on the earth and say "come and get me, mama, i am so ready for this coming paradise of myself." This is my desire.  

I will need to buy nothing.  I won’t need a room of my own except the room I create in my head/body/heart.  It involves more writing, less thought.  More touching.  More sensing.  More attention. More nature. More solitude. More community.  It involves less time in front of a computer and a phone.

This isn’t about being seen by others.  This is about being seen by ME. 

Join me on this journey. $28 for 28 days riding the self love wave.

Let’s make a powerful love revolution. 

Smashing the patriarchy by rising The Empress.

This work is continous.  This work isn’t easy.  We are literally unschooling ourselves from a wounded masculine paradigm, the patriachial system we have been raised within and educated with.  the system that piggy backs our DNA and tries to re-tell the story of our truth, of our original creation, that of the divine feminine coming to earth and making a full body for herself to create with, to enjoy, to savor, to feel all the feelings there are to feel. the feminine is stunning in form and worth, and that story has been hidden, buried, burned.

This is deep stuff.

The Empress, I believe, is a healing archetypes that allows us to rise above but also stay rooted down and solid, not flighty as she rises, but grounded.  She is of The Earth.  She is the physical emobodiment of the divine.  She is us.  We are her.  This is our job, to heal ourselves, to bring her to the forefront, to bring back the original intention of what the feminine hails and then some.

I started writing this for content for a course I am leading this coming week, but it was way too much for such a short time period. I wanted to keep things simple and easy for people to flow through it, to get a good grasp on The Empress energy without overwhelm. But I couldn’t just trash some of the extra content. So I thought I’d share here. Why not.

Here is a list I came up with, just doing some fast and furious writing around all the ways we can rise this empress energy {which in turn makes some serious shifts for the patriarchy} and all the questions we could be living, and all yeses we could be saying, along with all the nos.

  1. We must begin the process of unschooling. Everything we have been taught that does feel whole or complete or true. Unschool.
  2. This means showing up in our family/community unlike any role that has been created. we must create it for ourselves.  this means not explaining ourselves when we show up as we feel called to. this means not cutting ourselves off at the heart to make others comfortable. this work is about being a comforting, nourishing human by doing things that are uncomfortable. discomfort creates change when we get to the other side of it.
  3. this means giving Her a voice. what does your voice sound like now? is it clear? do you feel comfortable expressing it? do you feel another voice, a deeper voice, a truer voice inside you that is rising and aching to be heard? is it a scream? a whisper? a howl? listen and show up in that voice. say what you mean. don’t hide it within a respectful silence or because of ocietal expectations or politeness. be difficult because your passion is WORTH IT. because what you believe in MATTERS. let your voice shake with what you mean not what you think you are suppose to say. be a threat. be dangerous. be radical. be true. know there are endless layers of this voice and you get to keep unearthing them as you wish.
  4. think about business and the whole concept of “branding”. that is a masculine system in itself. what if your “brand” was a story, something fluid, moving, changing constantly to honor your needs, your process, your voice, your love for making things different every single day. what if you didn’t box yourself in, but instead expanded and became all you are, something so you that it’s nameles, formless, raw expression. art. and use the brand chariot as the masculine system that carries you along all the edges of your world. it's useful, but it's only a vehicle, an illusion of something you have been told you needed. if you take it away... *you* should still be there.
  5. on days that you feel different. express yourself differently. the empress is a million things. the point is to be all of her things, all of your things, fully. 100%. change your mind ALL THE TIME. if that's what you want. consistency is an illusion. 
  6. cancel when you need to cancel
  7. show up when you think you aren’t included. if it means that much to you, invite yourself to the conversation with an open heart and see what happens. be willing to be un-invited. but also be willing to be embraced.
  8. call out when calling out is needed. then call in. we don't want to separate, but we can't get anywhere by keeping things nice and quiet.
  9. release stories, systems, agendas that keep you from working and living in a way that is not healthy or true. release all the stories that keep you believing in things or worshiping things that harm your soul, your growth, your heart {burn them, literally, take fire to the words on paper}.
  10. show up as the wise creator that you are, someone who knows that someday will be a wise elder, a grandmother, a person who holds the healing of the world in her old, weathered arms. this is how important you are. someday you will be the one feet are gathered around.
  11. be willing to be messy as hell. allow things to fall apart, all the way apart, including yourself. like, what would happen if you came totally undone. not just a little. but the whole way? allow all the chaos to happen and see how fucking cool it is, what a beautiful thing it is for things to swirl and become utterly unknown and allow for all the holding you need by placing yourself in trust on the earth floor. allow for that risk. be willing to risk a systemic and dogmatic world for a healing and beautiful and stunning place to exist.
  12. be willing and able to piss people off. sometimes sharing our passions rubs people the wrong way because they make it about themselves, because it makes them take a look at themselves, because it makes them look at you differently.  be willing to allow that to happen. say and do what brings you life, always, despite the reactions of others. do not appease people fro friendship or love or belonging. just don’t. you belong to you. your tribe will see that and come running.
  13. if you are privledged-a white empress- own it. if you are an empress of color-speak your story. a true empress will listen always, stand up, hold up, know that listening and looking deeply at the self and coming together is the only way we rise.
  14. stop feeling responsible for other people. you can only show up as an example. you are not here to safe anyone. trust that they can save themselves. by showing up as your own, living, personal savior.
  15. we are here rising. because we cannot help it. because it’s not just about us. it’s about this world. we are the ones here to make it better. to change it up. to shake it up. we are god in physical form, now, right now. it’s the empress who has been squashed down and locked out. this paradigm has distorted her body and created stories about her uses. we are the ones to open a new door. we have the key. we have the wings. we are the smoke that will rise up and inflitrate. we will be known. through our love of this world. through our LOVE for this earth. this is the empress. this is her. this passion.

There is only one more day to register for The Empress Sessions.  Join in the adventure if you feel called. It’s 7 days and filled with good stuff. Click here to register!



on becoming an ancestor.

I feel like I can’t write about my grandmothers, or the feminine behind me without the 100% investment of what is within me, that which birthed from me. 

This bloodline thing, it goes as far back and as far forward as we can imagine.

The purpose of this book I am trying to write-  which I still know so little about- but trusting my entire being around it, isn’t just about the ancestors that have paved my way.

It’s about the grandmother + ancestor I am training/practicing to become.

It’s about the mothers + grandmothers + ancestors I am raising in my three daughters. 

Let me be straight.  I don’t know what I am doing. This whole thing, raising these girls into the next level of age and evolution isn’t far off from raising a newborn baby… except without the primal attraction I seemed to have to the newborn cuteness. We are built with that internal love and protection for little helpless creatures that can’t do a thing for themselves so we bare with the night feedings and the constant clinging and the mysterious crying for hours.  The baby cuteness and this intense desire to protect often softens the challanges that are brought to the table.   At least for me it did.  That same feelings just isn’t as obvious for me while raising a cusping teen daughter. Mostly I just want to run away. I know as much {or as little} about this phase as I did about the newborn baby phase.  And yet when I held that little one in my arms for the first 6 months, it immiediately felt like “I got this”.   Well now, as this baby has grown up to a 12 year old beauty of all beauties and sass of all sasses… I can honestly say I don’t think I got this yet. I am lost and feel alone beyond belief.

And it seems like all the other phases from baby to now, although exhausting, seemed to fit under “child” and having a child for me felt like pure luck and joy for the most part- and primal, it felt primal.  We just went outside and played in dirt and in rivers and we got messy and we read and cuddled and slept as much as they would allow. I was the leader of the band and they played the songs.  This isn’t working any more. Things are very different. She is slowly leaving the band. And I know it’s normal, but that doesn’t negate the hard and confusing and the 'what's next?'

This phase does not feel primal. This feels like I was never equipted with any of the tools to be here and now parenting this blooming human.  Like, it’s impossible. How can we get into slamming door conflicts over how much I love her singing or asking her to just please help me put laundry away or just do the homework. {jesus fucking christ can we just fuck homework to hell?} or because I ask a simple question that triggers all the hormomes {ALL THE HORMONES!}.

All this is bringing up so much about my own coming of age- which really I see now- didn’t actually exist.  I don’t remember coming of age.  

There was no marking or conversation or rite of passage.  What it feels like when I look back is that a huge transition - the death of my childhood and the birth of my womanhood- was avoided. Or ignored. Or went unnoticed. Or was just not dealt with because maybe it was just too achey and grief-filled time for all.  Or maybe because the exact age she is now, I went through such trauma and grief and I am now being reminded of how maybe I need healing.  I needed to be mothered in a specific way as well... I don’t think my mother had any idea how that was, and she did her best, she did more than her best, but still- I floated, I was lost, I never let go of my child and I never fully grasped what it meant to flourish as a young woman. I clung to my mother and I clung to being a grown up and in all that clinging, I got lost.  {maybe this is just how it is? but does it have to continue to be like this?}

Becoming a mother myself was the first time ever in my life that I felt I owned a transition.  Because actual transition in birth will crack it all open and bring it all front and center and the fire that you feel literally on your skin, will burn a lot of shit away.  It is a rite. I finally felt like I had crossed a threshhold. I owned myself. And I was given the gift of a child.

And there is a big lesson here for me, a big crack with seeping light pouring through, a vision I have for myself and for my daughter right now- and I know there isn’t a right or wrong way but there is an energy we must walk together, the intentions we make, what we choose- and all of it- I am still a student of it.  I am still learning it.  I am so open to learning it.  I just wish I could know the words, or the actions, or the energy. I am searching. I am loving. I am feeling into it all. I want her to know I know she is changing, and I want her to know that I am holding the space. But I also know if I step too close she will push.  And if I back all the way, she will feel like I left. This dance is utter temperance, and I am no good at balance or patience- but I can walk between worlds. So maybe there is hope.  

I am becoming the new ancestor. And I am showing her how to become that, as well. 

And. There is always intuition.

The mom of the delicious and milk-filled baby at my breast, that mom had no idea what she was doing either, but she was so intuitive.  She just showed up.  And did it. And I am looking, asking, to uncover this next layer of mothering intuition, the knowing, the mother-voice, the one that holds space for her now. Her own breasts growing. Her own body shifting. Her own mind exploding into a million gardens of her own fruition. Her person, whole and true and strong and wild, emerging. The look in her eye when they meet mine.  We want to know each other all over again. And I am not sure we know how. But maybe in that not knowing how, all the love will be uncovered, something new will be born.  I must trust this new intuition that is rising up, and it’s harder, because there are so many more voices these days, and she has so many more influences. And there are so many opposing forces to my style of life and mothering and living. And there is still that little 12 year old girl in me, who feels alone.

My voice quivers as I write this. 

I am crying in grief. Of what I am losing, that wild and dirty little girl. Of what I didn’t have back then, no memory of becoming.   About how the two are intermingling.  And knocking together. And I am walking that line of projecting and validation and knowing and unknowing.  

I am crying in grace.  Because god damn it. I am so grateful for this, for what is next.  And to know even this much, right now.  

I wish I had a list or something: 12 ways to parent a 12 year old girl. or. How to survive these teen years. Or. Uncovering the next phase of mother intuition.

But I don’t. I just have this. My words. I don’t have answers. Maybe you can just live in the question with me. I could use some good company.

* * *

{a letter to my daughter. a letter to myself. a letter to the blood behind me and in front of me. in words, i will figure things out.}

Dear Mia, 

It’s me. Your mother.

I just wanted to let you know, wanted to tell you, that I can’t stop listening to this one recording I took of you when you were singing in the studio the other day with your dad.

I wanted to tell you that, without you thinking I was some weirdo sitting around listening to a shitty recording of you singing a reggae version of Katy Perry. And I wanted to tell you this without you immediately thinking I am saying this to you because I am your mom and you are my daughter and because of that I naturally just think you are an amazing rock star.  It’s not that.

I am listening to it over and over because your voice has a quality to it that is both sweet and soulful, healing and powerful. It’s one of those voices that feels infectious, that makes you feel really good when you listen to it.  I mean, I’ll be honest. Maybe it’s just because you are my daughter and I am a totally creepy fan mom.  But mostly it’s not. Mostly because when I listen to it, I feel beautiful, I feel healed, I feel nourished.  Which is an odd feeling because you are my daughter. But I am saying this because I want you to know you are such a gift.  There is a light in you.  And I can feel it when you sing.

I want you to know that I never want to pressure you to sing or do anything that your entire being doesn’t want to do.  Sometimes it feels like my enthusiasim around your singing voice or anything you do translates as being controlling or pressuring you or trying to make decisions for youAnd I never want to do that. I don’t want to be that person to anyone, ever, especially you.  You are the kid that wouldn’t let me hold your hand or tie your shoe or teach you a thing.  You always said to me when you were so little “I DONT NEED A TEACHER I AM MY OWN TEACHER MAAAAMMMAAAAA!”  You have been wise in your own body for a very long time. I trust you. I do.  This doesn’t mean I have any idea what I am doing sometimes.  And also, it means I must know something, because here we are, doing this beautiful life together, still.

I never want to sound like I am dictating or pushing you. Because I know you and you can’t be pushed. All I want is for you to be happy, to find joy in your expression and to play. To really play.  And live creative.

So really girl, your voice just sounds damn good.  And I like it.  Please don’t get all mad at me for saying it.  It’s not any differnt then me loving any other singers I listen to all the time. It wouldn’t be weird if Gwen Stefani was around and I was all “omg please sing for me more!”  You just own something beautiful and unique. You bring a quality that just feels good in my heart, hits me in my heart.  It’s emotional. Expressive.  And really, it heals a part of me.

So if It ever feels like I am pressuring you to sing more, or go out there and share your voice, its not because I am trying to tell you what to do - it really is because I think your voice is important.  To you. To me. To those around you. And that said… never do a thing with it that you don’t want to do. Don’t listen to me. Listen to you. {isn’t that hysterical because I am always complaining how I really would love it if people listened to me more?}

Just sing for the love of singing.  Keep loving it. Ignore your creepy fan mom.  Just keep using your voice because it makes you feel good.

Because truly, I believe it is one of your super powers. 

Love you more than ever, 


our lady of subtle miracles.

{Do you want to listen to this post? Click below... or read on....}


Everyday I *try* and wake up thankful for the small things. The way the gray casts down on the mountain's peak. The woosh and crack of the evergreen brances on the windiest mornings and how glad I am that they are staying on the tree and not breaking off and flying into my window.  My youngest daughter still asleep, breathing, alive, drooling on the pillow.  The chatter of the older ones learning to get ready all on their own. The warmth of a floor under my feet. Running water. Food in the refidgerator. Electricity. A car. Fuel. Privilege. Love. A family.

Sometimes I get caught up with *not* having the larger things.  A home that we own. The farm I have always dreamed about and craved.  The big huge barn filled with hanging lights and a massive table for gatherings. The yurt in a tropial place that we go to heal and rejuviniate. The book that remains unwritten. Not having good + true leadership in this country. Rampant and unforgivable racism and sexism. A shit storm of an education system.  The lack of spirituality and the forward drive for organized religion, still. After all the wars, still, there is this need to be right or wrong.  Violence against women and children.  The fact that every time I walk out my door I hold a sense of fear on my shoulders because as a woman in this world, that is my burden to carry.  We get raped. Assulted. Killed. And to hold that fear on my shoulders for my daughters as well. How were are facing a culture that wants to lock out instead of open up and embrace.  

The big things. Whoa. They can go on and on they can really get to me, ya know? And the more I focus on them the bigger they appear. So big that I forget to remember the subtle miracles that happen every day. To me. 

Like breathing. And a smile from a stranger. And how whipped cream really does make everything better. And how my ass is shaped even at my age. And the how I have someone to kiss me long and hard. And his hands. And their laughter. And muddy paws of a loyal companion. Text messages from good friends. There are so many subtle miracles every day and the more I go on and on the longer the list gets.

It’s the subtle miracles and paying attention to them that invite me to grow into the biggest thing of all:: a better person with the ability to give more love and understanding to everyone I meet.


I started making rosary beads last month.  I thought I was going insane and my anxiety was higher and tighter than I would like to admitt. I was smoking a lot. Drinking as much as I could to drowned it all out. I was getting mean and angry and just ugly.  The cultural hatred born out of fear felt like is was clinging to the air and every breath I took I was inhaling it and forgetting to exhale. And I was keeping it. Sharing in the toxicity. Becoming it.

I don’t even remember what brought me to the bead store.  It might have been a little box of old scapular pieces I have had since I was a kid and thinking :: I should make necklaces out of them.

Maybe it was because after chanting in sankrit every morning I woke up and realized what prayer it was I said every time I got on the plane and repeated it over and over until we were at an elevation of 30k feet and also chanted as we descended until we were safely on the ground. And what I chanted in transition for all my children, as my body got as wide as it ever would to bring down their heads and bodies into my hands.  And what I chanted every weekend for a decade as a little girl sitting with my grandpa and going around the beads in candlelight.  And maybe because my Aunt Betty always said to me “Our Lady is always with you, Mary, talk to her. She listens. When your mother was pregnant with you I prayed to her every day to keep you close to her and for her to surround you in her love."

Maybe it was just a conversation around all that - that I needed to have.

But it was simple. The Hail Mary is the mantra prayer of my roots.

And so I would say it, with the lights dim as the fire crackled at night and I would say in the morning before anyone woke up, as I dropped bead after bead after bead. Creating an active prayer. And making something beautiful, infused with peace, peace that I found in me and a peace I know the world can find as well.  Making these were the only thing that dismantled my anxiety.  That lifted the weight of depression.  It gave me hope. It showed me mercy. It was self compassion in action. 


Mary is here. And she is for everyone. This is the message I clearly received when I was making the rosaries. How can we kneel before her, with her, co-create, collaborate, recalibrate? 

She doesn’t care how you pray the Hail Mary around the beads {I will post soon the version I use}. She just wants you to call her in. That is all you need to do.  Call her in.  And be ready. She is available.  The world aches and she wants to work with us to soothe and heal the pain.  She is pouring a baby blue river of light around us all, empowering us with her divinity, with our divinity. Because it is one in the same.  She is the Mother of God, which means she is the Mother of All.  Queen of Heaven. Empress of Hell. Gatekeeper for the middle ground.  She is 10,000 faces and 10,000 names.  But she is ours, in this time, this era, the human goddess who walked the earth a mere 2000 years ago.  A priestess who channeled a prophet.  A woman who was of her own power and accord.  The feminine who rose and now wraps her arms around us.  We are in need.  And she wants to give.


I wasn’t going to sell these. I had no intention at all.  I just wanted to give them away.  And I have given many away.  But I want to make more of them.  I am called to.  At a pace that feels right.  And so when I talked to Mary, she said, receive for the gifts you give, and make more.  I want more and more people to call in Mary, make it a movement.  Make it a mission.  Make her your own. Use the beads.  Wear them. Pray with them. Lay them on your altar. Pass them on.  


This rosary was made with the intention of remembering the small miracles of the day.  The easy stuff that we forget.  The subtle stuff.  I was told the large beads are yellow turquoise, the small white ones are yak bones.  There are golden wood beads along side a faceted gemstone I know nothing about but is milky and gorgeous and rich.  The relic is Our Lady Of Miracles made in Italy.  It’s all subtle colors…gentle.  But you can definitely *feel*  them on… not heavy… but noticable. The subtle colors and the heavier weight :: a  reminder of the simple miracles of everyday. To make them big.  Make them be seen. Pay attention. Hold them with reverence. Because the small and subtle are the greatest things we have.

If you are interested in this rosary you can purchase HERE.

Each Mystic Rosary comes with a personal Message From Mary reading for you.

From my heart, my grief, my joy, my mystery... to yours, 

MaryBeth xx

Hope <<>>

The first week in advent has been all about Hope. The girls and I have been talking about it a lot- about what it feels like to have hope, how important it was for people of the past to have hope and how utterly important it is to have hope now. We've been doing some fun rituals around hope, simple, because they are kids.  And the Star card has been our totem this week. And Star chocolates too of course......

* * * 
The wild storm that took down all that we stood for has exploded. 

There is such peace and stillness after the storm.

There is hope.  Hope may be even more important than love. 

This is the Star.

Think of all the stars you know.  Write them down.  Ones that come to mine off the top of my head:

Mary the star of the sea

Sirius the dog star

Star of the magi

Star of Bethelahem 

The morning star 

* * * 

What makes a star for you? What are it’s qualities? What magic does it bring? What does seeing stars evoke for you?

What does the light and heat of a star feel like against your heart? 

The Star shows up now, in the darkest month of the year.  The Star is the return of the daughter, she who brings the worlds together, who teaches us how to receive from heaven and also how to generously give to what lives above. 

She rises, just like persephone, such great hope for the mother that life will continue, that light will prevail. After a long journey of falling down and cracking open and seeing all the shadows and all the broken bones and all the brokenness of our foundations, The Star explodes into Light, a promise of spiritual evolution.  A gift of spiritual inspiration.  An invitation to move beyond.  And all is well, all is good.  Have this hope.  Trust this path.

* * * 

In many tarot depictions of that card a lush and fertile maiden goddess is both giving and receiving water.  The Star can shine when we offer our trust and we can receive back the gift of hope. 

How do you long for The Star to show up right now?

What does it give you hope for? 

What is it asking you to do, to put into action, to become The Star herself?

What do you have to give?

What are you waiting to receive?

Do you have hope? 

capture this.

Capture this feeling right now.

The feeling of soft saddness. Of having to surrender. Of not knowing what to do. Of vulnerability.  Of anger. Of passion, seeking, questioning.

That feeling of wanting the other person to go first at a four way stop sign.  And the feeling of giving them a big smile as you wave them through first.

That feeling when the sun that hasn’t been out in several days slices down into a small line on the sidewalk and you run to stand in it, to walk through it, to carry it with you like it’s the most precious thing you have ever walked through.

Capture this. Capture this feeling.  I will not tell you everything happens for a reason because I think that is bullshit. But here we are.  Now what will we do? This feeling that we know something is next and it depends on us.  And our trust.  And our love.  And our cracked open rib cage revealing the heart of our souls.

Capture this feeling. Because somehow, as intense as it is, this is how we should feel like a lot of the time.  Craving connection. Wanting to do our part. Looking at each other in the eye and wondering what’s next. 

Capture this feeling.  This is what it feels like to be alive. Grateful. Knowing how easy it would be to not be here, in a moment’s time.

Support each other in the darkest of times.

Support each other in the darkest times.

Why do you need to be right? Or your right to cancel out someone elses? The greatest lesson in this entire thing, in this time of confusion and fear, is not the who or what or why.

Please choose to heal and connect and listen and care for each other.  Please support each other with the subtle sense of sameness even when we cannot see eye to eye or heart to heart.  Support each other in the differences.  Our cells are 99.9% the same.  The .1% of difference is this fucking jewel, the essence, the nothing-else-in-the-universe like it.  It is our wise one, our teacher particle, and in each one of us not only should there be a student ready to learn and listen, but a teacher ready to be vulnerable and share what it is only they have to speak in truth. 

We support each other in these darkest times by realizing there are no more sides, no flips of the coin. Instead we are all on the same island, a sacred and holy place, and she is alive, she is holding us up.  And somewhere deep down every single one of has the same original intention, the nameless reason we came here, this reason we want to love. I have to believe it. And it has a different name and expression for each of us, but down to the dancing helix of our identity, it is all the same.

And the only way it evolves it’s way from being embedded deap into the bedrock of our cells, is for us to support the ones around us, the ones that come into our lives, intimately and casually. To say: I UNDERSTAND YOU. And may that be permission for them to understand you as well.

Somehow, reach out. Ask a question. Listen. Tell a story. Tell your truth.  Without it having to be a direct opposition to anyone elses. Why does it have to be?

Be ready to make people crack open and fall apart and get angry and get sad and also get blown away in gratitude and receive you.  Get ready to be questioned.  But… be ready to be Love.  Be love. More than anything at all. Be love.

It’s dark. The embrace we are capable of will heal us. It will. This is where my blind hope and faith have to come in. Where I grasp to believe.

Because even though I have a million choices I can make, I have to make the one that carries me on, uses my imagination to create a world I know is possible.  The world I came here to make true.

Today ::Receive a story from someone that makes your blood boil.  Receive it for what it is worth to the other.  Do what you need to do with it on your own.  Later. Burn it down. Breathe it out.  Know it’s not yours to own.  Trust.  And let it go.  

Today :: Let your story be received.  How you feel.  What you want.  Tell someone who sees it differently than you.  But trust that you will tell it as your own, as your own personal experience.  Tell it with your heart wide open.  Be vulnerable. Be you. In your eyes, show love, as you tell the story, know that whether or not you are heard or not…. doesn’t matter.  You are worth telling it.  

Before you receive or give your story today- surround yourself in a protective shell of light.  Bring yourself deep inside yourself.  Ground into the Earth. And let what needs to be said be filtered through that light and all that comes from outside of you, let it only enter you after it is filtered in that light. 

It is all practice.

But we need to do this for eachother.

We need to get over ourselves.

By trusting ourselves.

And trusting others.


when you write.

photo by  Danielle Cohen

when you write, write with your womb and heart all out. 

this means the fall out, the land minds, the broken down trucks, the look outs at night, the loss, the water, the running, the diving and wrapping around.  the aching hollowed and shaken hallowed. this means the going big, bigger, biggest of all because there is nothing too large for your heart and your womb can fit an entire world.  and knowing that in the small,  in the quiet barely there moment of you, a seed was planted. and it will grow. this means there is no hiding from yourself. because you will break the surface. because when you write with your womb and your heart on the page, you, the real you, the voice you, the essence of you, will always be found. 

write with the darkest sky coming from your hip. 

shoot it out from the place under your skin, from a place under the underneath layer of it all. and don’t hold back. get the gun out. blast the shadow to the page. see it there. raw and untamed. not careful. not considerate. not polite. this is the story of your blood, of your truth, the deepest darkest most expansive hue of the nothing and endless and you.

unzip yourself and don't hold back. 

and let the doves fly right out and land in the sky as heavenly beings and otherworldy energies. you don’t know whats inside there, deep inside there, like deep, deep, deep inside there,  until you get your skin undressed and let it loose against your ankles and go undereath the rib cage and unbotton beneath that bottom layer and open the window up and let the winged ones tell a story about a time when the cosmos was your original home, let them fly there and gather something good and bring it back to you.

there is nothing that shouldn't be said. 

nothing. everything is game. even what isn't fair is still game. why do you care what the paper thinks? why are you scared of what you have to say. write the one or one million things you think you are not allowed to say. write all the things that will cause trouble. write everything that will make you cry. write the stuff that would make others back down and die. it's okay. it's just you.

your words are a prayer to yourself. 

what if you just sat down and knew that. that you are your god. and your words are the beads. and each one is a healing force.  every nine words in a line is a novena unto the world. hail mary full of fire the lord is you. {that’s 9}

they are sewing together a new world. 

the amazing thing is you get to pick the color and the language and the sound of the sea and the crackle and pop of the vinyl.  you get to design the flavor and the intensity and the after tastes and after thoughts and after lifes. this is all you. 

your words are stars shooting through your veins and rolling down your fingers, flames and waterfalls. 

i mean really does more need to be said?  what if. and what if you did. and if what if you believed that this, all of it, coming out right now was everything that brought life into light? everything that everyone is meant to turn into? what if it was more than words and more than electrical current and more than all the water we know exists. what if it was more than you knew?

your words are constellations blown out in front of you. 

and every time you just let it go, without a care, without a plan, without a knowing, without thinking you are smart or have something to teach or something important to say -- but instead you just made a huge mess on the paper.  and you let yourself creating 3 billion new stars for three billion new light years for 3 billion new feelings of innerbeingness.  rely on more than your eyes and ears and memory. rely on something more. there is more than you. there is only you.

who are you to say no? say yes. let this yes be the art that explodes you.

let this be your art.

stop letting it be something else.

we on graced on this earth to create. we chose this. knowing this.  this is the love we bring. this is the truth we tell. we are limitless ways to transform and transmute obstacles into messages, into living symbols, into songs, into sounds, into something we know and want and must true. this is the art that is making a new world. this is the art that your words can do.

photo by  Danielle Cohen

{both of these photos were taken of me in my most precious element by my dear friend Danielle. Over time, the work she creates so effortlessly, becomes such a muse for my words. My words want to dance with her vision. I am grateful. All of creation is so beauty and worthy and a real life story of the Divine}

Interview with Carrie-Anne Moss at Annapurna Living

If you know me personally, you will know how the gorgeous human and creatrix Carrie-Anne has gifted my life in many ways.  So- it's an *extreme* honor to be featured as one of her  Annapurna Living Women today on her healing + lovely inter-web-home.

Here is a little slice of the interview...

photo of me and my girls by my beloved sister and personal visual historian:  Danielle Cohen

photo of me and my girls by my beloved sister and personal visual historian: Danielle Cohen


It’s always changing. One thing I have learned in these almost 42 years is that I don’t do well unless I create the freedom to change things up. So I take it day by day. No rules.

But I always take a big inhale and let out a big exhale. And then I begin. I smile at my husband {if he’s still in bed} and make eye contact. Connect. And kiss my youngest daughter, who may or may not be in between us.

My bed faces a west facing window and on the sill there is a white ceramic statue of Our Lady, Mother of The Sea. I have seen this statue my whole life; it was always somewhere in my house growing up. She was my first image {besides my own mother} of the Feminine I ever saw. I spend a few minutes in bed looking at her, the sun and Mount Hood waking up behind her and I have a very simple practice of saying “Thank you. I love you. I’m sorry. Forgive me.” These words come from the ancient Hawaiian + South Pacific forgiveness practice of Hoʻoponopono. I make it my own by saying “Thank you,” because I always want to start my day with being extremely thankful for being alive and breathing. A human here on earth—what a gift!

I used to have a very strict practice of yoga every morning before I had children. I taught yoga for a decade and owned my own studio. So I have this devotion to it. And after kids...if I didn’t practice every morning—alone before anyone woke up—in the way I thought I was “suppose” to, I would be annoyed and I would feel like a failure. What kind of practice is that?

I realized—and I hate to admit it took me longer than I would have liked—that my yoga practice is now my life practice. My spiritual practice doesn’t happen on the mat. It happens in buttering the toast. It happens when we are woken up in the middle of the night by a little girl who had a nightmare.  It happens with my pre-teen and hormonally-inspired daughter pushes me to my edges. It happens as soon as I wake up, yoga or not, and choose to breathe in and out. I have learned to let go of expectations about how things look.  

Living in the rainy Pacific Northwest, most of the year we like to start our day with warm drinks—so it makes sense that coffee is so popular here. It’s delicious. But my adrenals don’t always like it. I run high in the anxiety department and I don’t need to amp that up even more so I make my own warm elixir of raw cashews, matcha {green tea powder}, dates, coconut milk and a bit of honey. Elixir making is a ritual for me that says :: I am this important :: to take up space and nourish myself in this way before I nourish anyone else.

There is a reggae song called “Smile” by The Silvertones that goes “It’s best to rise with a smile on your face, just like the sunshine all over the place…” My partner and I made a pact when we got married that those lyrics would be our morning theme song for each other and for our kids. Even if we just rise with a smile, we are doing something good for ourselves and everyone around us............

Go here to read the entire interview and to browse through Annapurna's amazing website - specifically check out Carrie-Anne's meditation e-courses- they are utterly simple and yet profound, life changing. 

with love, fire, grace- 


photo by  Danielle Cohen.

Do You Know Who Your Ancestors Are?

{excerpt from my latest writing at Over The Moon Magazine}

As we enter Fall and get closer to All Souls Day (Day of the Dead, Samhain, Hallow’s Eve; depending on your culture/religion), it’s time to prepare ourselves and our space to receive the wisdom from those who guide us from the other side: our ancestors.

There is a power in having a connection with your ancestors. These are the spirits in a realm directly connected to you. They watch over and protect you, they help ease your suffering and  if you listen closely, they give you great wisdom and help light your path.  I believe they are always guiding our ways and the closer our connection with them and the more clear our communication is, the more ease and clarity and peace we have in life.

But first, you have to identify them.

Not all of us feel connected to the memory of people who were once alive and in our lives. But there are ancestors waiting for us way beyond remembered history who are asking us for a connection. Maybe your grandmother or great-grandmother wasn’t a nice person. Or maybe you didn’t even know her. Maybe you’re adopted and don’t know your real bloodline.

None of this matters. Beyond any memories or any stories we know, there are wise beings in the heavenly realms whose soul purpose is to help us with our karma. And they may be hundreds, thousands of years back, but they speak through your lineage. They will speak through a familiar face  or come through someone who was close to you. And this time of year, we can tap in and nurture these relations, honor them and give them space to come forth and love us even more.

But here is the thing: not all who have died are ancestors. Not all spirits are here to guide us. Some are still lost along the way.  They are seeking ways to become an ancestor from the other side.

Being raised Catholic, I see these souls as ones we used to “pray for” in “purgatory” so that they can elevate and get into “heaven.” (I only use quotes here because these would not be the language I would use now, but it’s still relevant and makes sense.)

So we need to spend time in prayer or meditation, visualizing who is near us, who is totally lifting us up and shining a bright light on us, as well as who might be in our space and weighing us down. They are not bad or evil, they are just lost and they can’t guide us. Get clear. Ask those who are not yet ancestors to please leave your space and that you will pray for their ascension. Then focus on your bright guides, those who are clear, and commit to connecting with them.

It may all sound crazy, but it’s truly only our culture that doesn’t revere and communicate with the dead. It’s really only our culture that doesn’t talk about this kind of stuff like it’s totally normal.  We have no atlas or teachings anymore.  And there is a huge gap in our spirituality when we don’t make honoring our dead a daily prayer.  This our closest connection to the other world.  Those who have been called to guide you from the other side and literally waiting to co-create with you.......



my mess is my power. {thank you flora bowley}

Your mess is where your power is.  The chaos, the mess on that canvas… that is your brilliance.


We stood there, in the middle of her studio, looking at my canvas with over 3 hours of layers, 5 different color pallettes, and 3 different types of medium. My insides layed out on a square, a big square, trying to fit it all in and finish it, so it looked “right” or “good”.  

It’s always an experience just to be in her studio, an almost unreal place to be.  Two thousand square feet of magic and altars in worship of color and expression and the world over are everywhere. Enough space for more than two dozen canvases, a dance party, a live music show and a potluck... and I am pretty sure my whole family could live there happily forever. Her and I are standing in the middle of it all, people buzzing around us in creation mode, I’m in paint splattered overalls and she’s standing there :: tall and graceful, fierce and gentle… and so unbelieavly grounded and real.  And she is telling me that my mess is my brilliance.

My eyes fill with tears.  I get the chills. And I nod.  I stand there for a minute and let those words be real, be okay, be believed.  I look at her. I hug her.  Tell her thank you for seeing me, thank you. I tossed out all my wantings to “finish” my painting. And I went back to the canvas.  And let the mess be a mess.  And made it even more of a mess. 

Because that mess is me.  And I refuse to be anybody else.  


I have spent all my life trying to tidy up my messes.  Trying to organize myself.  I’ve always been told I had “so much potential” if only I could work neater or plan better.  I was always told I was too wild, too dirty, too foul mouthed, that loved too large and I wanted too much.  I am a writer and I often second guess myself because my writing, even though I am told over and over again by people who read it that it lands directly in their hearts in a real way, the reality is:: it’s a mess.  And I judged it. I judged my “mess”. With all the briliant writers out there- with proper spelling and well formed thoughts and what seems to be good grasp on grammer-  I was always a bit like- shit, I better figure out how to clean this all up. Go Pro. And that judgement, I realized, wasn't just about my writing, it was about me, because my writing is a direct expression of who I truly am.  So when it came down to my art, my words, my life, my full expression, I was continously judging my mess and struggling to make it better, spending so so much time trying to figure out how to clean it up. 

My friend Flora's words that day gave me a kind of persmission that I had never heard before- or at least was never told to me in that way until then. It was empowering. It was the truth.  It was funny that it all happened around painting,  because I just don’t consider myself a visual artist at all {which of course is another silly story}.  But I realized that it didn’t matter: paint, letters, food, fashion, parenting, life.  When I express myself: my first and rawest emotion is A MESS.  And that mess is my unadultered power.  It is my brilliance.  It is the raw essence of what I want to say. It is who I am.

And why the fuck would I want to clean up raw power?  Why would I want to tame a true wild mess?


I believe there are people out there who have profound space holding and healing powers without even trying, without training, without saying it or marketing it.  They just show up and do what they do.  And somehow they change people’s lives by giving people permission to do they same.  To show up and trust deeply. To show up and create madly.  To remind you that your creations are a direct expression of your soul- and to ALLOW it to be part of the gorgeous mystery of Art, the mystery of this life.  I don’t see my beautiful friend Flora as an “art teacher”.  She’s so beyond that.  She’s an art giver.  She’s a magic keeper.  She’s a leader of an exquiste kind of light that is utterly contagious.  I have watched people walk away from her workshops totally transformed.  I know I was. 

Flora Bowley kinda changed my entire artistic path that day, in those 2 sentences that casually rolled off her tongue.  And any time I have painted with her in her studio, the following days and weeks, things have become radically mystically, my lap opens and all that I desire seems to fall in.  She’s one witchy woman with a heart of gold.

So please.  Think about how it is you create.  How do you express? Is it really loud and you find yourself always quieting down? Are you super anal and feel like you should loosen it up?  Do you go big and feel like you are suppose to make it all small? Of course there is nothing wrong with testing out all the waters, but pay attention to your most original and natural way you express yourself. What is the first thing that unfolds, unleashes, and wants to be seen?

Trust yourself.  That is where your truest power lies.

{{thank you flora. thank you}}

Flora also has a new website that just launched and OH MY GOD IT'S INSANE.  If you are interested in creative expression and allowing your entire being to become an artist, go check it out.  Trust me, it’s better than an evening of Netflix. Better even than HBOGO. SERIOUSLY.  The amazing Zipporah Lomaz is responsilble for the beginning short film and the supreme photos throughout the site.  And all the writing in there? All Flora. My most favorite section is “JOURNEY” where she tells her story- from the very beginning.  It’s so beautiful to learn about her choices in life and the twists and turns she made, the trust she had to have, and what she had to let go of.  There is also this incredible new offering on there called:: The Studio Diaries.  It’s one of the most accessible {as in doable, affordable, fun} artistic adventures I have seen.  I was almost shocked at how much of herself and her life as a working artist she shares- along with inviting in other artists to chit-chat, recipes, yoga, painting inspiration.  It’s her generous gift to the world.  

{This is my friend Flora Bowley blowing our her birthday candles this year.  Isn’t she gorgeous?}

And here is one of my many messes  that has been born in her space.

HONOR YOUR PROCESS&gt; it is who you are.

HONOR YOUR PROCESS> it is who you are.

warning. mama rant.

Please stop saying things like this to my daughters:

“look, there is a girl playing soccer and she’s kicking ass!” or “that female basketball player is probably better than all the dudes on that other team.”  “see, she’s a girl, and she’s a badass extreme skier. girls can do anything boys can do!”  and “you can be anything you want when you grow up, honey, anything!”



i am so sick of hearing shit like this.

i know you mean well. but my daughters. they do not need that story planted in their hearts.

they have no idea what you are talking about.

for them. there isn’t a question.  they need no validation.  


and apparently unaware of what this world thinks of them as females. thank goddess.

maybe your generation needed to hear this. or maybe you needed to hear it.  maybe you grew up thinking “yeah i can do anything a boy can do” or maybe you grew up a male in apology for being raised in such a sexist culture and treating girls like objects instead of fully formed human beings. regardless. my girls do not need to come in and fight to be as good, or better. they are already good. better. the best. 

and i am sorry. i am going to rant.  because i am one pissed off bleeding out my vagina mother-fucking-mother. 

my daughters were not born seeing any kind of limitations.  they do not understand sexism or that they were born into a world that finds them less than everyone else.  they do not get the story that has been passed down forever that they really don’t have the same kind of rights as their male counterpart.  they do not get that there will be people who will try and silence them and ask them to deny every ounce of their sexuality and sensuality and intellect to make other people {men} feel bigger and better. they do not understand that they probably will fear their lives every time they walk down a street alone.  they do not yet know they will feel the need to apologize or explain every time they don’t want to have sex, say no, or disagree with someone of the opposite sex.  they will not know that they have turned in their key to feminism as soon as they decide to take on a role, any role, because there is no room for them to be all the things.






blinged out.











they don’t know it, but they will be asked to choose something to be. and they will have to fight to expand their choice into wholeness and they will have to burn down the word "goodness".  they don’t see yet that most likely they will be asked to back down when they speak their voice against this systemic system of "isms".  and i say most likely.

but i have hope. i do. that this is my story. not theirs. and nobody can touch them.

they are not yet living this. they are gold still.  we are living these things, us, as adults. US. not them.  and we refuse, somehow, to let go of these old stories and we continue to pass them on and on.  until we stop.

how about right now. it's one easy thing you can do.

so i am asking you.  please just let it be.  when you see a girl doing some awesome shit that typically not part of your history, or part of your media story, something has not been shown or promoted in your world,  please just say: that person is amazing.  say that.  say what an amazing talent that person has. or maybe just wow. cool. or maybe even shit i would like to learn how to be that cool. 

the thing is, females have been doing amazing shit forever. THE MOST AMAZING SHIT FOREVER. WE DO NOT NEED TO BE REMINDED IN COMPARISONS.  we are physical enigmas.  we are strong. fast. mysterious. powerful. we are fire. we are water. we are lightning. we are volcanos. we are earthquakes. we are sex. and we are grandmothers. 





please do not take away their power with stories that have not even occurred them to be possible. because my daughter’s hearts hold the possibility of their world, that they are girls, and they are the best.

it’s going to be a hard road. because i love them so fucking much. i love all our children this much.  and this work, working with them, for them, is the biggest thing i have done and ever will do.  and if you have a daughter, you know what i mean. i know you do.

and if you don’t have a daughter.  please do your part to remember that these kids have no idea what the fuck you mean when you say “you can be anything you want when you grow up, little girl!”



Thank you. 


mama marybeth.

empress is rising.

The Empress is rising. 

Do you judge the explosions of the earth? Do you condemn and try to silence the waves? Would you call nature rude when she decided to crack and shake and shift everything that was "known" and turns everything into chaotic mystery? Do we play down her fierce cleansing fires and her waters that have the power to take away all life? 

We fear it of course.  We don’t want it.  We aren’t comfortable with it.  We try to create sciences that can predict, but we never can be sure. We revere it.  And we bow down and say have mercy on us.  And no matter what we are given, in return, we always receive love in the form of shelter, nourishment and exquisite beauty of nature’s depth and expression, the love of the most enamored Mother.

When the Empres rises and speaks, she might sprew fire. She may be loud and seething.  She may be wild and sad.  She may be hysterical and nurturing.  She may be quiet and still with a crown of flames.  She may be intelligent and intuitive.  She may be erratic.  She may be jumbled words and raw, messy emotion. 

She is showing up, rising up in any way she can- to show her love for her children, for this earth. Her messages unearth what is beyond the broken bones of this system and reveal what has been hidden underneath, what has been rotting, what is coming into light.

Why are we so taken back when she speaks her mind? Why are we so quick to judge her? To shut her down? To ignore her sentiments because her emotions are so strong, so strong they can cause discomfort.  Why do we try to dress her within confining clothes and give her schedules to adhere to and water down her messages in forms and figurations? Why do we condemn her voice?

When the empress rises and looks the emperor in the eye and says No with truthful cries, unruly howls and yells of freedom, when she begins to scream accusations and testaments of love, we act like we don’t want to hear her. We put our fingers in our ears. We call her crazy.  Insane. Out of place. Because she means real change is coming. Something new is to be born. 

But when do you call a volcano crazy?

When do call a hurricane rude?

When do you call a wildfire manic?

The empress is here. And she’s ready to start fires.  And we need these fires.  She is also ready to flood us with tears of history, herstory, ourstory.  She is ready to stand up, as a leader and be true, to herself, and to all of us, as she is.  She isn’t going to hide.  She isn’t going to remain polite or do what is expected of her. 

She is not an emperor in a dress.  She is not empress speaking the language of emperor. She is an empress.  She is the flesh incarnate of the divine feminine.  She is the living body, the vessleof the great dream of god.  She is who carries creation and births it into her hands and offers it to the world.  This is not a mellow or easy feat.  This takes blood and guts and tears and feelings.  She also wants the wounded emperor to heal. But he needs to make some space.  He needs to be a throne she can sit on. He needs to be the chariot that brings her words and language and ways to us, drives it all back home. 

We are living in a time of systematic bullshit and every ‘ism’ possible is being brought out into the unforgiving light.

We are defining a new economy and running our businesses in ways that seem counter productive but certainly not counterintuitive.  We are told we are doing it all wrong and we need to do xyz to make 17 figures and we need xyz to market and succeed.  Well this is bullshit.

We do things as we do them.  We show up as we feel necessary and true and right and good.  We do it our way.  17 figures or not.  Because the point is to be fully expressed.

We are raising our children as wild wolves, allowing them to be who they are and nothing more, nothing less.  We are loving our loves with liberation, letting go with no grip.  We are eating intuitively.  And we aren’t buying into anything anymore. 

We create the new truth.

And the new truth is Love.

We are the leaders and changemakers and we are right there, on the edge of the paradigm.  And the only way to cross over is to make sure those crowns are on high.  Get ready to be heard.  Stop caring if it sounds too wild, too womenly, too feminine, too erratic, makes no sense and feels out of this world.  Because it is.

And it’s good.

And the world needs it.

All of it.

Be disruptive.

Be emotional.

Be truthful.

Be threatening.

Be dangerous.

Be safe.

Be loud.

Be silent.

Be present. 

Be heard. 

Runs things like an empress. It’s time.

photo by the exquisite empress &nbsp; Danielle Cohen.

photo by the exquisite empress  Danielle Cohen.

Next Month I will be traveling to Salt Lake City and speaking about embodying The Empress energy.  It's very special party thrown by some very special people.  If you are interested in coming to hear me and a few other insanely fantastic feminine leaders while having some drinks in a gorgeous space in Salt Lake City :: PLEASE let me know.  I can tell you all about. I would love to see/meet you!