solitude's potency for ritual

Well, hello. Just...hi.

Wild times make for quite a reckoning, right? I'm diving into the big picture and the small details. For example, I've always called this a "newsletter," which is a word I've always hated. But I'm stumped on a replacement. "Love letter"? That feels quite personal. But I remind myself that people hardly write any letters anymore. So perhaps it's appropriate—I pour a lot of love into this letter. And HELLO, that's the word that's always on the header.... Maybe I'm overthinking this. I'm open to your suggestions; please don't hesitate to recommend something!

The purpose of this love letter is twofold: share how solitude and introspection are powerful ways to create personal ritual, and some updates on Numinous Spiral, my tarot deck.

To be clear: I'm not advocating that you sequester yourself from the world. Take the class, tune into the livestream, listen to the talks—enjoy the gigantic surge in online content. However, it's something else to create a personal practice that is fully yours, independent of events, livestreams, virtual sessions, and the like. All of those things are wonderful resources; often they are the  most accessible ways to connect and learn. But having your own rituals and practices means you are never disconnected from source, never without ways to create meaningful space.

Let's start with something simple that can be a ritual, in regards to language: be mindful of what you speak into existence. I've been on "social distancing" mode for more than a week, but I don't call it that. We already live in a lot of isolation and disconnection; I prefer not to emphasize it when under duress. Some alternatives I've encountered:
~ nest in
~ physical distance + social solidarity
~ sacred solitude
~ sacred separation
~ introspection
~ cocoon

I especially the final one. During metamorphosis, the inside of a cocoon is a mess. It has intention, but within it everything is destroyed and remade. That resonates.

It's odd timing, to be decreasing physical connection while, in the Northern Hemisphere, spring is bursting. Yet crisis is always a mirror, and it gives opportunity for metamorphosis. On Tuesday I did a FB live, something I'd never wanted to do before that day. I mentioned is that this respiratory illness is creating a time for all of us to take deep breaths. Take this opportunity, its heartbreak and gifts, and truly dive deeply into yourself. Just as good food, clean water, and exercise are necessary for your physical body, ritual is necessary for your energetic body.

Ritual is essential for your health all the time, not just this cocoon time. However, this cocoon time creates a particular opportunity to develop and evolve your own ritual practices. Though I have never endured solitude as extreme as I have now, I have lived in places where I was one of the only English speakers or where I had internet access a couple times a week at most (years before texting). One of the most important things I learned was how to hold space for myself, how to create sacred space alone.

When I was 19, I moved to Spain for a semester abroad. Before my arrival, I was soooooooo excited to meet peers who also wanted to improve their Spanish and live abroad. I thought I might meet some of the closest friends in my life. My hopes were crushed in the first week, when I realized that nearly everyone in the group of 300 students had come in giant social groups (mostly fraternities and sororities), from a few universities in the Midwest. They were not interested in making new friends, and I was a weirdo from the South who wrote in her journal every day in Spanish—which, for the record, was a very sacred practice for me.

I had to grapple with isolation and loneliness immediately, and I had a steep learning curve. One of the first lessons was to listen to cravings. Not just food cravings, but all cravings: cravings for affection, connection, affirmation, meaning. Even when they're not food cravings, they are still hunger. I learned to tune into myself and find ways to provide for myself.

I missed my weekly phone calls with my grandparents, as this was way before apps and smartphones. So I picked one day a week when I wrote them letters. I liked writing letters so much that I wrote 5-7 letters a week, essentially one a day. After a few weeks, I'd cycle through everyone and start over. (As you see, my practice of love letters goes back many years.)

Sundays were very quiet; all businesses were closed and locals spent the day with family. EVERYTHING was closed: restaurants, internet cafes, coffee shops, retail shops, the post office, events, grocery stores. I already had plenty of time to study, read, write. Sunday became the day for me to explore a new part of the city—I chose a destination, sometimes requiring an hour or more to walk there, and wandered about. Parks, historic neighborhoods, churches, ruins from the Roman Empire, an abandoned theme park.

I often felt saddest when I woke up or before I went to bed. I made sure to cue some music—y'know, on tapes—to have ready at those times.

I share these things not to reminisce about the past, but to show how these things support me now, today, as I'm typing this to you. That link to my grandparents remained strong despite the distance. It remains strong now, even with them beyond the veil.

All businesses closed and no friends to hang out with? It's tough. It becomes a beautiful opportunity to know yourself. I'm relying heavily on that capacity right now.

I know we all listen to music, but I've revived the morning ritual from so many years ago. Now I meditate intentionally, rather than listening passively. And I use Insight Timer instead of tapes.

The point is: you do you. Listen to your cravings. Experiment. Create. You create your deepest medicine.

Of course, I too am inspired by other cultures and traditions. But you don't have to choose other rituals OR your own. You can engage with lots of things. There is much to appreciate in the rituals from people or cultures, but be careful that they don't preclude your own explorations. Things that have been done many times have a certain potency. But that's not superior to the magic of what you create for yourself. They're just different.

In light of rampant harm via erasure, appropriation, exploitation of other cultures that are frequently marginalized and oppressed, it's vital to create meaningful practices for yourself. Drop the bucket into your own well. Experiment. Trust. You end up creating a richness that's yours, that connects you to yourself and to others.

Speaking of connecting—the IG account for Numinous Spiral is going and your feedback is always welcome.

This equinox marks the start of FREE readings for anyone and everyone! Until now, readings had been offered to people more directly in my circles. (That was helpful for both ease of communication and my nerves.) But now, I'm ready to share more widely. So, if you're reading this, that means YOU!

Given current events, these are all remote (Facetime or Zoom) until conditions change. No experience or expertise required.

Many people who've never used tarot or oracle decks have had deep experiences with Numinous Spiral. There have been a lot of breakthroughs, both personal and professional:
~ shedding shame and attachment over past failures
~ refining new offerings as an entrepreneur
~ navigating challenges in dating relationships
~ allowing boundaries to change in friendships

And plenty of people without any specific question—the kind of readings I affectionately call, "What's up, universe?" Those readings, equally, offer potential for big breakthroughs and insight.

Your curiosity is welcome and I look forward to connecting: email me and we'll schedule.

Regardless of your circumstances, please keep yourself grounded and connected. Dive into your depths, but don't forget to share them with others. Enjoy what others have made: music, books, and the like. But don't forget to be active—you can write, you can sing, you can dance. No expertise or experience required!

Wishing you much peace and exceptionally good health. Please pass this along to those who would resonate. And please feel free to share the rituals and spaces you create for yourself; I'd love to learn from you!

Warmly,
S.

—
she / they
Siderealchemy