It’s been an intense year, and as it launches itself into the final stretch, it offers some relief, but still the bells of crazies ring loud.  


The leaves change colors and fall off the trees, and the world darkens and quiets down and  cools off. We descend. Some of us hear the call to go into the inner spaces, into our roots. Down below the surfaces, deep, down, and in we go. We burrow with the scorpions. 


It’s Scorpio New Moon time. Time for death and rebirth. Time for darkness and restoration. Time to howl and hoot and wear the night as our gown, or rock the nakedness of the earth as the most fabulous expression of our fashion. 


This archaic creature that transitioned from sea to land hasn’t changed much in all of its known history. It holds the gifts of steadiness, adaptability, and transformation. It tells a story that stretches over 400 million years of existence. Scorpions live in deserts and rainforests, and they have learned to live in urban settings as well. They dig and make their ways down and deep into the sand, down into the underworld. Fierce hunters of the night. They hold venom in their tail, which is also said to contain medicine. And even their mating dance – that which creates life – ends with death, as the female devours the male. One of the things that Scorpions represent mythically in ancient traditions is the power of The Great Mother. 


This is the time of year when the Great Mother becomes the Dark Goddess. Dark matter. That which holds it all together. That which makes it fall apart. That which allows and invites and embraces. She who gives us life and death. She who pours breath into our lungs, and receives our toxicity, and loves us no matter how much we fuck up. She who is time, and devours all that she births. It’s KALI time. 


There’s a big YES sounding its roar through the ether. Yes to who we are. Yes to opening up to how we feel and where we stand. Yes as a surrender. Surrender the overworking tendencies. The forceful power of society as it pushes us from within to keep going, even when what we need is to pause, to keep hurrying, to keep climbing up an imaginary staircase. Release our obsession with achievements. Revive our relationship with presence. The universe is saying yes to you – just as you are. 



Yes to your experience.

Yes to change! 

Yes to ambivalence 

Yes to ambiguity

Yes to kicking this administration out of the White House.

Yes to the light and the shadow of this time

Yes if you’re still stressed, as we are still under the reins of a mad king and his enablers. 

YES to self care, so that we can navigate this with breath

Yes to the beauty and the bummer, the blossoms and the burn, the badassness and the beatupness – holding life with open arms. 

To the love and the sadness

To the loneliness and the never aloneness

To the sacrifice and the sacredness of our choices

To the better parts of you

And to the shitty parts you gotta make amends with

Time for affirming life’s complexity.

Time for radical self acceptance


The presence of the dark goddesses are the power that sits in the thresholds. Hekate in the crossroads, holding her torch and her broom, lighting the path and clearing the way. Or Dhumavati rising as smoke, saying Fuck Off to the patriarchy, sitting in a chariot going nowhere, dressed in rags, skull begging bowl in her hand, she is free. Guardians of the other world. Witchy crones sitting in the liminal spaces and cackling with crows and coyotes. 


She is the discerning power of the space between life and death. She is the unconditional love that sets clear boundaries for the love to flow and flourish. She is the strength to hold down the fort. She is the no that strengthens the yes – all the things we must not do in order for the thing that we do to be done. 



NO to the patriarchal bullshit that runs the world

No to systemic racism and white supremacy and police brutality

No to lies 

No to the killing of our planet


Time to draw clear lines in the sand

To make boundaries into sacred art

To say no where entry is not permitted

And when yes means no

No apologies necessary

You make the call

Guard the threshold and love yourself

Protect what you care about

Love deeply

Wrap yourself in tender toughness

Care for your gentleness

Say no so that your soul can blossom

So that your life can breathe

So that your ground is strong

So that your heart can sing its song


Kali in her darkness embraces you fully. Primordial and primal and all the way to the edge. She offers herself with no bounds and no limits as guide and guardian, and ground. She births you out of her darkness and into her darkness. And with her breath she fills you with life, and kills you with every exhale, from the moment that you are conceived. 


Into the dark goddess we surrender. She teaches us how. There’s a yes to the bones that comes with that necklace of skulls, and the severed head dripping blood, and the lolling tongue, and the wild, fierce expression. 


Every beginning is the beginning of the end. So say YES, she says. Say yes.


Her ferocity screams NO. She will scream as she stands at the doorway, at the grounds of cremation, in the threshold between life and death, death and rebirth. She’s the decay of fruit, the ground opening to sip on what has died, the power of gravity pulling us down, to hit the ground and to fall beneath it, to the pit of eternity within the soil, under the rock, in the core of fire, in the belly of it all.


The BIG NO of the dark goddess is the invitation to channel the yesses, a harnessing of our power to birth something through eliminating other things. 


The darkness of KALI is the embrace of the unknown. We fall into it. We give into it. And it is in that boundless space into which we fall – the abyss – that we get to reclaim our power. In the infinite yes we learn to say no. In that great big no we finally exhale a big yes. 


Take some time for self reflection, for meditation, for tapping into your inspiration in the next few days, as we move through the dark moon / new moon during the dark time of the year. 


Find a tree that changes with the season, sit by it or lean into it. Look at the leaves. Touch the bark gently. Breathe with it for a few minutes. Ask the tree if it needs something from you. Listen softly and openly. Ask the tree if it carries a message for you. Wait for it and allow it to take whatever form it takes. 


Chant Aum Klim Kalikaye Namaha throughout the day – in meditation, in the shower, while cooking, cleaning, or chilling.


Meditate every night with the Bija Mantra Klim (Kali’s seed) – inhale Klim, Exhale Klim, and notice what shows up in the space between the breaths. Bring your middle fingers and your thumbs to touch – Akasha (ether) Mudra – and let the mantra pour into the mudra. 


Now I’d LOVE to hear from you! Comment below and tell me – what are you saying YES to? And what are you saying NO to? 


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