B R E A T H E + B E.
I’ve been asking myself where my muse has gone instead of just making time for her to show up.
And I realized that maybe (okay, not maybe; it’s actually quite likely) it’s because I am not prioritizing the time I need to meet the words where they wait.
The VI of Swords, inverted of course, is telling me all these aches are simply proof that I am growing.
Growing is exhausting, if we’re being honest. And we can be honest, right, you and I?
It’s been a lot of shoring up of boundaries (or, really, finally making some), and sitting with the shadows those bring. It’s also been a lot of opening old wounds and finally tending to them.
So, while I’m not sure where the words will take me, I’m in a place where I’m ready to follow.
I hope you are, too.
* Tarot deck: The Lovely Omens Tarot by Keely Williams
Day 008: III of Air/Swords, inverted.
A reminder that it’s okay to feel the pain and move on when ready. Reclaiming your heart or your thoughts or your life in no way negates all you experienced, and doesn’t have to be a betrayal to the person you were while going through it.
Hold on to the lessons (if there were any; sometimes shit happens and there is no rhyme or reason or lesson to be learned), forgive yourself your mistakes, and don’t be afraid to accept the good that comes your way.
Day 007: VII of Water/Cups.
Though this card speaks to fantasy and illusion, wishes and wishful thinking, does it show up for anyone else when you’re TWD—Throwing While Distracted?
Every time I shuffle and throw while distracted, I pull the VII of Cups.
Every. Single. Time.
You’d think I’d have learned by now to not watch YouTube videos and think about my day’s schedule while also trying to throw.
I wake from his good morning kiss, then hear the distinct beep of the coffeemaker as he turns it on for me before leaving. My head is throbbing, but it only takes a moment to register that it is indeed Friday, and the Full Buck Moon hangs heavy against the inky sky. Full moon hangover already or a precursor to the show?
No matter; I have to see her. So, I slip out to the yard as quietly as I can, feet leading me toward the light spilling across the side of our home.
There she is, pregnant with possibilities, Mars her companion. I marvel a moment, snap a quick photo, and then steal back inside.
I pour a cup of coffee, make my way to my desk, grab my deck, and light a candle.
This blood moon is a siren calling me back to the cards, and it is fortuitous that, from today, there are 154 days until my 38th birthday--just enough time to make it through two tarot decks if I pull one card a day and three cards to celebrate my birth.
#AWild154Days of tarot starts here, lovelies.
I may ask a different question each day, but today I started with the question I always seem to ask: What do I need to know today?
And Death stared up at me.
Which is fitting, I suppose, as this full moon eclipse has been referred to as one of not just transition, but rebirth. Which is fitting, I suppose, as my creative world is shifting a bit with the upcoming release of my collection of poetry, The Wild In-Between. Which is fitting, I suppose, as it seems my Capricorn sun is always in a state of transition, of adjusting, of starting over and shedding.
Death is a welcomed harbinger of change.
Honestly, all I could think of when I saw it was "Oh! Thank goodness it isn't The Tower." lol
If you'd like to join in on this tarot journey, please do and use the hashtag because I'd love to see your throws. There are no hard and fast rules; I will be pulling daily and sharing on social media, but you can participate as much or as little as you wish.
If you just want to follow along, follow the hashtag on Instagram, check my account @thewildinbetween, or visit here for updates.
Happy full moon, babies!
* Deck: Nomad Tarot
1. I wonder if the solar eclipse energy is not just a fierce shot of the feminine (hello, Luna love), but also a bit of balance. Light and dark. The shadows dancing during the day.
2. I broke my new pair of shoes and dropped my house key in in the middle of a busy street while walking O to school this morning.
But, while out on errands (read: window shopping), I found the perfect new kettle, the most adorable Autumn + Halloween decor, a rug (that I am OBSESSED with) for the courtyard, and the perfect modern industrial basket for the stack of blankets I like to keep available for snuggling on the couch.
3. I am convinced shelf bras in camis are not meant for large breasts. It feels like I've Ace bandaged myself.
4. Leaves aren't changing color here quite yet, but the air . . . oh, the air is changing. Persephone's return is near and it feels like Hades is exhaling.
5. There are days when I feel as if jeans are too constricting and overrated, and days when I wish for the most perfect bell bottoms with a thick hem and a perfect flare.
6. Why is the queue at my daughter's high school almost full an hour before school even gets out? I don't remember school pick up and drop off being this chaotic or stressful for my parents.
7. Why do songs sung in Hawai'ian get me all choked up? Like, I get legit emotional. Past life grief, maybe?
8. And when can I get my feet back on that sacred soil? Even if it feels wrong to be a tourist there. Like, I love it, but it feels wrong in a way, too.
9. I'm not me when it's summer time, and I feel like I wait all year for September 21st.
10. Freyja is just about healed and I just ordered two mini dresses (in black, of course) to rock her in the Autumn.
Mini dresses. I haven't worn mini dresses since junior high. Who am I?
1. I looked up content versus happy. Happy, by definition, seems to be a state wherein all your wants and needs are met. Contentment, on the other hand, comes about when you may not have everything you want, but have everything you need and are no longer disturbed by desires of more.
2. I sat in our freshly swept courtyard today, after having slept in and awoken to a sweet six-year-old's arm draped across my chest, after having witnessed my 17-year-old doing a happy dance in my bedroom doorway, after greeting my 13-year-old in his room and finding he'd neatly made his bed, after kissing my husband good morning as he was in the middle of washing our daughter's car in the front yard, and … I realized I am content. I am happy. How lucky am I to have both.
3. I want floor cushions for the courtyard, I think. And a low coffee table. A tray of candles. I want this space to be the space we step out barefoot and feel embraced.
4. Music. The curating of perfect playlists. The way one sets a mood by simply pressing Play.
5. Beef carnitas and salsa fresca.
6. "Are those gladiator sandals?" he asks. I laugh because they sort of are and sort of not what I would normally wear, but I feel like my wardrobe needs to grow up a little.
7. Tattoos have a way of teaching you the beauty that can be found in pain and the art of being patient.
I am certain I need at least two more.
8. The peeling stage is still gross, though.
9. The part of my kettle that moves the cap that whistles melted. Shouldn't these parts, all the parts, be heat proof?
10. No coffee for the last week. I miss the scent, but not much else.
1. Matte grey nail polish. It must be almost Fall.
2. The tub in our master bath is so deep I have to hold the sides to climb inside. I wonder sometimes how I won't drown in there, and realize a bath may never be relaxing since I have no chance of getting any taller.
3. Maxi dresses are life right now.
4. Catching up on GAME OF THRONES. Season six. Even knowing the spoilers, I'm still caught off guard in all the best ways. That is what amazing storytelling creates.
5. Appreciating the uncurated. But only briefly. Because mess makes me claustrophobic.
6. Text message typing interrupted by the person you are texting, and the serendipity of knowing they were thinking of you at that same moment, too.
7. En garde, Monsieur Soleil!
Be with someone who would slay the sun for you.
8. Eagerly anticipating the first foggy, rainy day. Now that the deck is done, the courtyard needs attention.
9. #FreyjaOfTheThigh. Baby steps toward self-love. Adorning the thunder with the goddess of love and battle and witchcraft. Plants with healing properties. A compass so I never lose my way and, if I do, I am never truly lost. Layers of pain open to healing, in more than one way.
10. Photos taken that will never be shared publicly. And wondering if that's why I take them.
Raising a strong, fierce daughter has been (relatively) easy because she comes from warrior blood.
Dragon ladies and bruhas, shield maidens and hustlers.
Women who know what it is to not just survive, but fucking thrive even through adversity.
Raising strong, fierce boys is where my worry lies. Will they be good men? Compassionate and kind, quick to help without need for reciprocity? Will they stand against oppression and abuse? Will they be more than bystanders in life?
And then I remember they have warrior blood, too.
I remember the lineage of women who once held them in their wombs.
I remember that I married their father because he is a good man and I knew he would help create good men.
I remember my boys never fail to temper their ferocity with the size of their hearts.
. . . lest their sister kick their asses. 😜
What to you is most holy?
The way they smell fresh from sleep. That dimple in his left check. "I love you" whispered after hours of talking in the dark. His freckles. New pajamas on Christmas Eve, and their eyes on Christmas morning. Driving in the desert, the windows rolled down and the night air warm against my skin. The sun as it slips into the Pacific Ocean. Starlit skies above redwoods and pines. Her fire. Hot coffee and a cold porch. Paper marigolds and candles to light the way. All the in-betweens.
And the way they are my roots and my home, the archives of my heart.
Fire pits and bistro lights and sage leaves on embers. Nature conservations where coyotes roam free, laughing all through the night. The power of three. And seven. Everyday altars around every turn. Dried pomegranates and foxglove, Nag Champa and anointing oils. Black ink and black clothes and black hair and black kohl. Or maybe just coffee brown kohl. But smudge and lived in. Brick red lips and white nail polish. Crisp, white linens. Rain and fog and the gloom that settles in like a soft blanket. The way flannels always feel like slipping into familiar skin. Blank notebooks and long novels and the way both feel like possibility every time the cover is first opened.
I couldn't sleep last night.
It was him sleeping on a separate air matress, that felt continents apart, to accommodate the almost 6-year-old who wanted to sleep between us.
It was the frigid, but welcomed, breeze whispering its way through the open window. Because how could I tell it no after days of sweltering heat?
It was the way my left hip kept sticking to the plastic, air-filled bed even as every other part of me was covered in goosebumps. How do you sweat while you're freezing, I wondered more than once last night.
It was the now nearly empty house, the creaks and groans amplified against the bare walls and cold floors.
So, when I woke this morning, after a fitful sleep, to a blanket of grey, my heart felt comforted.
The sky felt just like me--a little gloomy. Grey. Inclined to move slowly.
Some people love sunny days. They throw on the least amount of clothes as is considered legally decent and bask in the glow of that glorious star. They drive with their tops down (cars, and maybe clothing--no shame), and live for summer.
I want wicked witch clouds and the boom of thunder. I want the drip-drip-drop of rain falling (I loved that part in BAMBI). I love a good chill in the air, a fire in the pit, and a comfy blanket on my lap. I love the way I feel when I'm wrapped in his arms or a cardigan (or both if I am lucky), and the way smoke curls become graceful dancing tendrils against a slate sky.
I am not a child of the sun. I never have been. Not in the way I see others loving it.
I don't need sunshine.
I need melancholy.
I want grey.
The color is described, per the ColourPop website, as a "deepened blackened burgundy red" with a matte finish. Both products retail for $5 each (such a steal!), and the formula for both is creamy and lovely--no dragging or skipping during application. The only caveat? It can be a bit patchy, as shown in the following photo:
Admittedly, though, I had a lip balm on prior to application, so that may have contributed to the patchiness. On the other hand, the lip balm was gone by application and I had thoroughly exfoliated my lips with my GlamGlow POUTMUD Fizzy Lip Exfoliating Treatment before staring my makeup, so I'm not exactly sure what happened. I will, however, use this product again without applying lip balm or scrub and report back.
Oh! Also? I sort of love how the liner applied a bit more than the stix. The liner was full coverage at first swipe whereas the stix needed a bit of working with.
Additionally, as with some matte formulas, eating any sort of greasy/oily foods may wear a bit of the color away or cause the color to slip around a bit. Just a head's up.
That said, I would totally buy these products again. At $5 a pop, you really can't go wrong with Creature (regardless of the product), and if you're a vampy lip lover, you really should consider adding this gorgeous color to your collection.
* All photos in reviews are mine and minimally processed to be true to the product color. All opinions are my own and products have been purchased by me with my own funds unless otherwise noted.
how loud my
inner voice is
of never even
to pee alone.
- motherhood, Nicole C.
After almost 17 years of parenting, I thought I knew some things.
But, you know, one can never learn enough.
For instance, I used to think my Beasties were the reason my coffee always got cold before I could finish it.
I have realized I get distracted easily and move from task to task, so unless I am seated with the purpose of staying seated, my coffee is going to get cold--Beasties home or not.
Also, when you having to cook three meals a day every day, plus the occasional snack, you seem to think you're the type of person who needs three squares daily.
During the school week, I find I am more of a grazer than a full, sit down to a meal sort of eater. My favorite brunch these days, because gods know I rarely eat breakfast AND lunch if the kids aren't home, turns out to be antipasto, usually consisting of a fruit, nitrate free salami, and fresh mozzarella.
Like, it's been about four days of this as a meal for me.
I sort of love it.
The other thing I've learned is how loud silence is.
My inner voice is like an outside voice in my head, so I constantly have iTunes or Spotify open to drown out my overthinking.
What about you? If you parenting and are finding yourself in a new, no more babies underfoot phase, what are you learning about yourself?
I was thinking this morning, as I headed home without a car full of Beasties and wondering what I would do with my free hours, that this too is a sort of mourning.
The way I feel right now.
Lost. At a loss.
Not a loss loss, of course, but, still . . . a loss.
My ways of being, almost my entire adult life up until now, has had a little one underfoot in some way.
I have only been backseat buddy-less for three years of my adult life. Do you know what that is like? To always look in the rearview and see a face beaming back at you? To always buckle someone else in first wherever I went? To sit in a car, parked in front of Target or Costco or a school, hoping my phone battery would out last a nap?
Now, instead of settling in for a few hours of Mickey and Jake, snacks dotted about the coffee table and kitchen counters, I leave my keys in the door in case the school calls.
On his first day of Kindergarten, I came home and stared at the wall for twenty minutes, not sure what to do with myself. Today, his third day, I drove home after drop off and sat in the car for fifteen minutes.
I am having to relearn who I am when I am not holding a hand or wiping a nose or promising just one more errand and we can go home, okay, baby.
And the house? The house feels it, too.
It's quiet aside from my constant stream of music to fill the empty spaces.
Toys aren't scattered five minutes after I pick them up. The dishes aren't filling the sink just as quickly as I wash them. The fridge isn't opening and closing all day long, the rattle of condiment bottles signaling a sneaky snacker.
There is a melancholy in my bones.
A hollowness I can hear in the silence of the house when no one is fighting over who has to put the dishes away or gets a turn on the XBox, when no one is knocking on the door when I am just trying to shower, good gods, can't I just shower.
And I know this new normal will feel just like old normal soon enough . . . just soon enough for our eldest Beastie to graduate and move that much closer to her dreams independent of us. And then there will be another new normal that settles in like a blanket, muffling the hollowness and warming the melancholy.
But . . . still.
Still, I'm not sure where my place in this new normal is just yet.
Some days parenting feels like a battlefield and every word spoken is a canon set to light. So, I'm throwing up the white flag, and nursing my wounds with Ben & Jerry's.
It's the new moon, lovelies! Now is a wonderful time to start new ventures, plant the seeds of intentions, or let go of things that no longer serve you.
Did you know some believe new moon magic can be worked, and worked well, from the start of the new moon to up to three days after? Well, let's take advantage of this magic with a tarot sale here at The Wild In-Between!
From today (August 3rd) until midnight of August 6th, the three most popular tarot readings here are on sale, and if you are interested in the new moon spread I created (as seen in the photo above), purchase the Four Card Tarot Reading listing. That spread is a doozy, let me tell ya!
So, yeah … tell me about the ways you use the new moon energy in your favor? Are you throwing cards? Casting runes? Planting actual seeds (I see you, my herbal lovelies)? I'd love to know.
I can't wait to throw for you, and hope all the intentions you're setting this new moon come to fruition!
Day 06: So tell me. If you were here next to me right now, and you granted me the grace of allowing me to hear. If your heartbeat sounded like a word, or a song or a whispered truth, what would I hear if I pressed my ear to your chest?
"I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean." Sally writes this, and I know it is true.
Not because it is empty, but because it is vast.
Because my heart is ever changing, always shifting with the currents of my life.
Because there will forever be unplumbed depths.
Because there is a howling, wind whipping against rocky cliffs, residing in my superior vena cava, ready to cleanse.
This is where my wildness is life blood.
Because there, right there, in my atria is where it all collects, fills me up. A dragnet of memories. Waves upon waves.
This is where it all begins.
Because there are aortic tides, and in each tide a name. A moment. A wish. They flow through my body, pulling me under, pushing me further.
This is where I am swept away.
Because there are chambers, vacant caves with the echoes of regret, wet and cold. There is no peace here, no silence-- just the roar of it all. It clouds my head when I shut my eyes tight.
This is where I am lost at sea.
This is where I take shelter.
My heart … oh, my heart as it beats, crashing against my chest, barely contained, is the sea monster and the siren. The lullaby and the danger.
- - - - -
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Normally, unless I have a specific question/issue I need to address, I simply ask the cards to tell me what I need to know for that day.
Today, though, I wanted to try something a bit different when it came to my personal tarot practice. Instead of asking what I need to know, I concentrated on how I was feeling and allowed the cards to tell me about it/how to address it.
Ennui is the feeling of the day; that listlessness plaguing my bones, moving me from one thing to the next without much direction or enthusiasm. The vampire's demise.
So, I shuffled the decks, one by one, while concentrating on how I feel, giving name to it, and this is what the cards provided:
1. The Nomad Tarot: King of Water/Cups, inverted (moodiness)
2. The Raven's Prophecy Tarot: Knight of Wands (take action)
3. Linestrider Tarot: The Chariot (willpower, control)
4. Madam Clara Sees All: Six of Wands, inverted (lack of confidence)
5. The Wild Unknown Tarot: VII of Cups (illusion, it's all in your head)
I don't know about you, but I find it oddly thrilling (and sort of messed up) to see ALL my decks collectively calling me out, telling me to get out of my own head and do something about how I feel. lol
It's been a hot minute since I have been by with a post, and I apologize.
I was waiting for something to write about, you know? It's sort of like me and tarot; if I try to do it daily, even as a routine, I get burnt out and have to step away to recharge.
Anyway, back to this post . . .
If you follow me on other social media platforms, you know that my beloved rust colored eyeliner--Sienna by Stila--is not currently available. Anywhere. And my one pencil is, basically, gone.
So, in an attempt to soothe my aching heart, I have been on the hunt for rust and copper colored liners and shadows. A replacement of sorts. A second choice. A rebound, you know?
Enter these liquid shadows:
The tube on the left is the Revlon PhotoReady Eye Art Lid + Line + Lash in Burnished Bling. It's double sided with an opaque copper shadow on one end and a copper glitter on the other. I swatched both on my hand and they not only dried quickly, but also did not smear after they dried down. The color of the copper shadow is rich and reflective, and so lovely. I doubt I'll get around to using the glitter, but even that felt smooth and glided on easily.
The tube on the left is the Maybelline New York Color Tattoo Eye Chrome Shadow in Bronze Sheen. This one is definitely a deep, bronze color and did not swatch as nearly as smoothly as the Revlon liquid shadow, but to be fair their consistencies differ. Where the Revlon is more liquid, the Maybelline formula is more like a cream. That said, the Color Tattoo formula is still gorgeous and easily wearable.
To remove the swatches, I used my Simple Foaming Facial Cleanser, and it easily removed the Revlon products with a bit of light rubbing, but didn't even fade the Maybelline Color Tattoo. That lovely little Color Tattoo eyeshadow also required a cotton pad and some micellar water for a clean removal. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, as I have oily lids and I'll gladly take a bit longer to remove my eye makeup (and maybe use a bit of coconut oil) if it means it stays on when I want it to.
Pictured with the liquid shadows are my recently acquired Real Techniques Bold Metal Collection brushes: the 301 Flat Contour Brush (left) and the 100 Arched Powder Brush (right). I've yet to use either (they arrived today, too), but both have über soft bristles and the handles offer a lovely grip. Both brushes were less than $20, and I am all about some affordable beauty. Plus, I own a few other Real Technique brushes and really, really enjoy them--most especially when one considers their price point.
So, if you'd like a review on these brushes in the future, or would like me to continue with makeup related posts, just leave me a comment below. I'd love to hear from you.