While each of the Saints exude unconditional, heartfelt service – they all have unique signatures and essences. St. Rita feels like my resilient, unf*ckable-with aunt who makes honey in her spare time – the one who surprises me with her sweetness. The one I call to share the best and worst of times with.

And so we begin a newly numbered year. I find there’s a quiet liminality to this time of year — an enchanting in-between that invites deepening intimacy with the space between stars, between thoughts, between milestone moments.

I’ve always considered myself a late bloomer. I believed in Santa Claus until 8th grade – and stopped only because my science teacher did a lecture before Christmas on why it's scientifically impossible for Santa to be real. It was supposed to be a fun and playful lecture before the holiday break and yet, I remember feeling completely deflated.

One evening nearly a decade ago, I found myself grappling with a decision I needed to make. My mind spun in endless circles, trying to strategize while straining to figure out: do I stay or do I go?

What does it mean to grieve unlived lives and the “what ifs” in the midst of nourishing a heartfelt dream?

A couple weeks ago, I adventured to a place on the outskirts of Mt. Shasta called Pluto's Cave. I've known about this cave for years yet never felt inclined to visit; I've heard stories from locals about people who've had to be rescued from the cave – and about myths and legends that say the end of the cave is supposedly a doorway to Inner Earth.

This past week, my boyfriend could not find his wallet. I helped him look, feeling both determined and discouraged as our search went longer and longer…

What if a miracle could meet you here?

I don’t want fast and furious.

I like sllloooowww and steady step by step breath by breath emergent embers. Growing glowing coals that wordlessly emanate the healing hands of time.

Today I’m inspired to share a bit of a longer story with you, a story I’ve shared in short parts before, but never quite in this way. Perhaps grab a cozy cup of tea or a warm delicious drink. Let’s gather by the hearth of our hearts and lean in…

“The invitation is to be in consent with yourself,” said the retreat facilitator, all of us tucked into a cozy circle. “If you need to leave, the door is open. If your body is calling for rest, there’s full permission and encouragement to excuse yourself and lie down for as long as you need.”

Is there an opportunity for spontaneous service? Perhaps leaving an encouraging note on a stranger’s car. Sending a letter to a friend. Donating to your favorite charity. Planting a tree. Reaching out to someone who inspires you with a love letter. How can you show up and interact with the world around you, even if that world is limited to your home right now?

There are a lot of questions we, the world at large, are currently facing. Collective questions on where things will go from here, how things will change, how things won’t change, all the things. While we don’t know what’s going to happen a week from now, a month from now, a year from now…

Have you noticed any judgments around a place, person, group of people, or way of being lately? How can you approach this from your soul’s perspective this week? Even the courage to take one small step into the room with it will start the process of growing past what you think you know.

This year, I celebrated Beltane with a strong intention to connect with the Beloved. I did this through an impromptu Angelic Breath Healing journey the night of Beltane (May 1st) and then spent the next two days honoring this auspicious portal in community at the herbalism school I attend.

My invitation, as inspired by her, is to close your eyes and visit her altar in your mind's eye. Meet Magdalene herself. Let her receive you, as YOU. Whatever you carry today, lay it on the altar. Nothing is too heavy, too profane, too shallow, too deep for Her.