Hello sweet souls,
Today is 9 Aq’ab’al—the energy of the dawn, the threshold between dark and light, the doorway between worlds. And 9 holds the energy of the sacred feminine—of giving life to something. So here we are, standing at a doorway between worlds on the day something is being born through it.
That's October. The veil thins. The ancestors draw near. And what comes through that threshold—their presence, their guidance, their closeness—is alive, and it is asking to be received.
If you’d like, listen to me speak about the October theme in The Altar:
Here are the full details for our live gatherings and monthly theme.
In October, I’ll share stories and transmissions on The Ancestors Are Here: Reverence, Grief & Homecoming—the medicine of the thinning veil, the ancestors who walk beside us, and the grief that opens the door to their presence.
The veil thins every 13 days—but as Días de los Muertos draw near, in many traditions we hold ceremony to welcome those on the other side. To feel them not as gone, but as right here. To let the guidance we’ve received be felt as them—present, close, walking beside us.
Yes, there is grief—the grief of loss, and the quieter grief of transformation, of deconditioning from what we thought was real so that what’s possible across dimensions can enter. But grief is the doorway, not the room. On the other side of it: reverence, closeness, homecoming. The ancestors were never gone. This month, we come to the altar to remember that.
I’ll begin where it’s truest—in my own body. The layers and dimensions of my own ancestral healing, what it cost me, and what it opened. Because my healing was also a deconditioning: a breaking-open of what I thought was real, and there was grief in that breaking. I’ll share what became possible in me on the other side of it—so you can feel what might become possible in you.
From there, we’ll move into what the ancestors teach—and what it costs. The themes I hear again and again in my sessions and in the collective work. Not only the grief of losing someone, but the grief of unlearning. Of your worldview cracking open. Everything the ancestors teach costs you a version of reality you were attached to. That ache is real, and it deserves to be honored, not rushed past.
And we’ll close the month at the altar between us—the ephemeral, astral place where you and another meet, where what happens is real, and in many ways more real than what happens in the earthly dimension. This is where I invite you close: come to the altar to feel them not as gone but as here. Let the guidance you’ve received be felt as them, present with you. This is reverence, and it is celebration—of the ancestors, and of the grief, loss, transformation, and healing in your own life.
Here are the details for the live gatherings—please add them to your calendar.
For new members, I also share Your Sacred Rituals, a guidebook for your private rituals, including how to work with Cacao.