Once in a Micro Moon: Digging Up the Roots, Cycle Breaking, and Coming hOMe
It’s safe to say I’m starting this out with I don’t know what to say—but I do.
I don’t know what the exact moon sign is, but I do know we just went through a Taurus season, blasted into Gemini season on a Taurus new moon, and are now entering the second full moon of May. It is rare, aligned, and a true blue moon. So to the saying "once in a blue moon"—that is exactly what we are living right now.
Have you ever felt like you’re in the twilight zone?
An opposite world where what should never happen is happening, and those who should be in certain situations are kept out? Have you ever felt like you’ve survived a decade of that? Lol. Well, marking my 37th lap around the sun, the view from here has been immensely clarifying, but also extremely hard to discern at times—especially with little patience for patience.
Do we call this the roommate, young children, full-on parenting stage? Do we call this the dirty 30s? Do we need to constantly remind ourselves where we’re at, what we’ve been made through, and keep our goals and values in check?
Yes to all of the above.
The Loop De Loop
Failing health in my 20s led me to spiritual health. From there, I took the dive into mental health, then dove even deeper into emotional health, just to finally make full-circle sense of all my physical circumstances, experiences, relationships, and happenings.
We’ve been on the same loop-de-loop for the last six years, clearing out all the fake and fear-based beliefs. That clearing has taken us down some Alice in Wonderland experiences. A "Dorothy, there’s no place like hOMe" never-ending dream of days and months blurred into the same survival states. We'd hit the staircase back up, only to reach the same door that required processing and fully functioning post-carbon monoxide poisoning, family betrayal, a worldly pandemic, the loss of our son, and the surprise pregnancy that followed just two months later.
Pax passed on Good Friday. The following year, Chy was born two weeks earlier than expected on Easter Sunday/Monday—on April Fool's Day. You can’t get more holy than that to heal the huge hole left in our left.
Pax—my peace, my health, my wealth, and my purpose—all felt under a microscope. Every part of me was under attack. Like Princess Diana, the feeling was a pressure wanting me to give away my will. To give up the fight for truth. To stop truly understanding my family dynamics, lineages, and upbringing.
The Walk
The price to pay for truth was my soul, my life.
I was out for a walk post-Paxie’s passing, trying to get my groove back and return to the routines that grounded me. While out for that walk, I was shown my death. I saw myself laying there on a cold hotel floor, five months pregnant with Johny dying beside me, while Lux (just one year old) and our two cats freaked out for five to six hours waiting for any sign of life.
I was shown having a conversation with my soul, my guides, and my past loved ones. I was fighting—fighting so hard. “Get me back, I won’t leave my son, get me back!” I kept demanding my return.
Then, the heavy message was delivered. I heard: “We can get you back, but it’s not to be the same, and it’s not going to be easy. Not everyone will be 100%.”The contract didn’t matter. What mattered was my son Lux was a one-year-old in a hotel room in Mexico and needed one of his parents to push the hell through. As those visions came in on that walk, my eyes burned and my body felt like a thousand pounds. Then, boom—I got hit with a smack back into my body and a crushing panic attack. I ran into the house crying for Johny, remembering what had happened, scrambling for the pieces I’ve been trying to collect for years. The cell memory, to piece things together, to gain my peace back.
Pax means peace. The meanings and layers here are thick. I’m giving some detail, but to give it all doesn’t feel compassionate to myself, and I’m proud of myself for writing this at all. It’s been years since I felt like writing. If you knew the old me, you’d know writing was my main source and medium—sharing my blogs, my personal experiences, and what I was learning while working 1:1 and in group settings through my offerings and services.
Nervous System Medicine
We’ve been living on our acreage since last September. It was a universal plan with us in mind. In our vulnerable state, we clearly weren’t the "best choice" clients with top-tier credit and accounts, and I almost cancelled coming to see the place. It was the result of years of building only to crash back down. My umph had taken a hit, but that don’t mean the well runneth dry. It just meant this girl needed real time, ideas, thoughts, feelings, and actions to regulate.
It required a massive taking of the foot off the rat-race gas pedal. Shifting gears. Planting in fresh-tilled, composted soil with the right air (ideas), temperature (thoughts), water (feelings), and earth (actions). Nutrient-dense and ready to live.
The farm had experienced heartbreaks and neglect, just like ourCELLS. Every fix, rack, planting, pruning, mowing, and minute spent listening to the sights and sounds has been pure nervous system medicine. As I give back to this treaty land, I’m constantly talking to it—to those who lived, planted, and were here before, to my ancestors, to the soil, and to the sun and moon (which I have a beautiful view of from every single window in the farmhouse). We’ve made connections with the family that previously owned the farm in the 1800s, and I know the universe is working its ways, pulling and pushing the right alignment to crack through the many layers of healing at hand: societal, intergenerational, and personal, to name a few.
Micro-Dosing the Breakthroughs
This moon cycle is asking me to deliver messages of mass breakthroughs. They won’t look big at all. They will look like unclenching your jaw, softening your shoulders, and suddenly realizing how long you’ve been bracing. It’s about finding the parts of you that are holding on or holding back, and letting them flow in small, micro-dosing ways to get the soil ready prior to planting. It's remembering how important that infancy stage is. We may be far in linear age from being a baby, but that will never take away from the parts of us that require real mothering (feminine) and real fathering (masculine)—aka giving and receiving, day and night, the duality that creates us all.
Now, I’m again not sure what sign the moon is. Let me see if I can tune in and get it… I hear Capricorn, but let’s check it out.
Boom!
It’s Sagittarius, which is also Paxie’s sign! And it’s a micromoon—hence my micro-dosing reference! Capricorn follows right after Sagittarius, highlighting it for me. And as I say that word—highlighting—I am shown a flash of my son Chy grabbing my makeup highlighter stick, which we just found him using to draw all over the floor.
The floor. The root. The earth. The actions. All coming up from the floor and tying it all together to “know” me, to become inFORMED.
The Cartoon Toxic Waves
Inside that word, I’m shown the med at the end of inFORMED, showing the medical field. It triggers a comment I heard earlier today in a conversation. Someone was thanking the fact that they never got to the root of their issue; they could have, but preferred to face a harsher situation and receive a surgery that could have been entirely prevented along with a lot of childhood healing that was causing the issue in the first place.I’m shown the roots, the upbringing, the childhood. Then, I see a vision of this energy pouring out, seeping out from individual cells like stinky waves in a cartoon—the toxicity affecting the whole planet. Plants (us) giving off carbon monoxide as opposed to carbon dioxide, poisoning those around us and our environments. I’m shown the extreme ways in which people will justify or downplay very unhealthy lifestyles and behaviors, continuing to cling to those attachments they KNOW are not serving them.
I’m hearing a HUGE WAKE-UP CALL.
I’m being shown the cycle breakers getting a sudden umph of righteousness, but in all the best ways. Standing up for the underdog—the one who is only "under" because they were treated like shit, copied, stolen from, or envied. Those who chose the path of settling, giving up, and selling out will no longer be fed. The cycle breaker is methodically weaving themselves back into reality, one stitch at a time. Precision in their vision is the key. They say "the devil is in the details," but with that quote, this Virgo goes mmmmm, time to take that back. The Virgo is in the details. And the tails—the roots—are where all the stories are kept. The skeletons in the closet. The mounds under the rug.
Come hOMe to YourCellves
As we continue to pour our love into this farm and bring its cells back to life, we are officially opening up the gates to bring you along for the ride. The well is flowing, the soil is tilled, and the medicine is ready. We’ve taken to the farm giving it our love and will be returning again for workshops, events, pop up tattoo shop, and 1:1 sessions. I don’t have Facebook and instagram anymore but I do have my own website which is where I feel this decade is going — no more metaverse takeover, independent domains! Future cell sovereignty in ways we might not even imagine (air) or think of (fire) but will most definitely feel (water) and take action (earth) on.
Want to connect with me in person right now to regulate that nervous system?
You can find me in person at In Bloom Wellness Studio in Morinville:
Mondays at 6:45 PM for Slow Flow Yoga
Tuesdays at 8:15 PM for Somatic Yin Yoga
Let’s dig up the roots together and plant ourCELLS in peace 🤍
S 👩🌾