July 11, 2017

I went back. I climbed the mountain, I walked through the tall grass. I breathed hard and filled my lungs with forest air and birdsong. I sat under the trees and dug my toes into wet clay. I danced, and I tranced, and I drummed by the fire. I took us deeper, deeper, away from this place. I guided us down into the earth, to the Ancestors Cave. I died and was reborn. I lived. I felt life return to my flesh, I felt vibrant and whole. I felt my feet take step after step down the path to which I've been called. 

Return, the Spirits whispered. Return, croaked the bullfrogs in the night. Return, sang the birds by the pond. Return, said the fire dancing high. Return, cried the bowdrill in my hands. Return, said the wind in the trees. Return, called the Ancestors in the moonlight. 

I walked in this world and the Otherworld, always walking the line between waking and dreaming, riding the hedge day in and day out. I fell asleep to the moon and woke to the sun, I danced with the Spiri...

June 27, 2017

Stepping onto the rocky sand,

the waves sucking at my feet

Water Biting, numbing in its coldness,

toes lose feeling, gooseflesh rises on skin,

nipples harden

The water roiling, dark, foreboding--

it calls me deeper, deeper

Siren Song calls, it vibrates in my long bones

and swims through my veins like fish--

I hear it bouncing off the cliff face,

do they hear it too?

Standing on the dark, slick rocks, toes gripping,

arms outstretched and eyes closed--

wind whipping hair, fog brushing naked flesh

I feel the pull, the Call-- Home, they sing, Come Home,

this is your power place, your Soul Home

But I have not my sealskin, I cannot live beneath the waves--

and yet, still here, my power rises and knows this place,

these waters

A longing, dark and deep,

like the drop-off hidden just past the curling waves,

haunts me always

A desire for returning to,

becoming again of the Sea 

Ocean Blessings to my fellow Sea Witches + Sea Creatures,

Juniper Wren 

Poem & Photos (Shoot Location: Northern California Coastli...

June 17, 2017

I recently returned from a week in the Northern California woods, surrounded by second generation redwoods, douglas fir, and a spattering of madrone, oak, blackberry, thimbleberry, and others. I had gone to gather to learn, teach, and grow with a group of amazing people from all backgrounds and walks of life connected by a red thread of reproductive justice work and activism. Though it was, in and of itself, an eye-opening experience that jump started some amazing progress as a group / collaboration / network, I took away so much more from my time spent there outside of the confines of the group itself and the topics discussed. 

Most notably of which was a reality check. I hadn't realized just how much I have shifted over the last year or so as a Being. Before the trip in months past, and especially since my cycles have returned, I have become even more highly sensitive to sensory input, energetic input, etc. and have been navigating how to manage that. Being overstimulated can res...

April 14, 2017

 Deep in my bones, in the blood of my veins, swirls the blood of a hundred thousand ancestors who came before. From here in this land, from across the great sea to the east. Ancestral memories of Turtle Island, the Northlands of Europe and the Islands, the Continent, Eurasia, and Western Africa pool in the recesses of my mind. And among the blood of those human ancestors, runs the tiniest veins of those nonhuman. Other. Beast and Faery, both. Something I had suspected, known really, buried in my bones, long, long before the Others told me. Before Brighid and the Morrigan, before Grandmother Bear and other Spirits told me. I knew. I knew a longing deep within me, I knew a shape I ached to take, I knew a sea I yearned to swim, I knew a cave I yearned to claim. It is a strange melancholy, to be seal-kin without a sealskin to find, never being able to return to the Sea. It is a strange heartache to feel the salmon writhing in your paws and the warm blood in your mouth, life stirring within...

March 30, 2017

Alas it is always in the wee hours when I am called to write. When my mind is exhausted from the thoughts of the day, when my heart is weary, and my bones heavy. When the words just spill forth, my fingers flying across the keyboard as they once did with pen on paper. I find myself sitting here in the red velvet chair in the quiet of the hour after the children are finally in bed, and oh how weary I am. 

I fight with myself even now as I type this, whether or not to share these words. These thoughts. Because we are constantly under a barrage of commentary in our life-that-is-social-media to only be (or only share) positive things. To speak positively, to tell everyone everything is ok, even if it really fucking isn’t. Told that we’re not manifesting what we want in life because we’re too negative, belittled and attacked when we share our vulnerable truth, our grit and our pain because people only want to see our sunshine and rainbows and posts about herbs. We keep everything inside beca...

February 23, 2017

I have always been an intuitive, sensitive person, able to pick up on subtle energies, occasionally seeing auras, having prophetic dreams... But before, it was almost as if it was muted, dulled, a thin gauze pulled over my vision or cotton stuffed in my ears. There but not strong, not vibrant, a hint of what could be. When I got my Reiki attunements last year and dedicated my healing and birth-work to the Bear Mother, Brighid, that gauzy veil was lifted. Since then (and possibly influenced I'm sure by various celestial events and the shifting Collective Consciousness and grief/anger that has been flooding the collective psyche the last few months) my ability to sense and feel energies, and my sensitivity to sensory input, EMFs, and other energy has increased a hundred-fold, resulting in both profound spiritual experiences and healing sessions with others, but also debilitating sensory overload and crippling anxiety.  

I find myself in a constant pendulum-sw...

February 14, 2017

There's nothing quite like making tea. 

It is a practice of mindfulness, a moment separate from the rest of time. It is a reminder to slow down, to come back into this moment, to be present with the act of boiling water, of adding the herbs to the pot, then the water. Waiting for the tea to steep. Pouring it into the carefully selected cup, adding your sweetener of choice. Stirring dripping honey or crystalline grains till melted. Getting comfortable by the window in your favorite chair, breathing in deeply the aromatic steam before slowly sipping, savoring each drop. 

Lately my tea of choice has been a blend of Tulsi/Holy Basil and Nettle leaves. Nettle has always been a favorite of mine, I use it in everything when I cook and in almost all of my tea blends and infusions. Tulsi I have had before as a tea, but now I am bonding with it as an herbal ally to help me in this time of great duress. Stirred into each cupful is a pinch of an herbal-sugar blend, lovingly and magically c...

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© 2017 by Femme de la Foret // Aileen Peterson

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