Writing Prompts: Final Shed of the Year of the Wood Snake
Final Shed is a ritual writing circle held at the edge of a cycle, where we gather inside serpent medicine to name what is ending and consciously release it. Together we write into the cords that still bind us to dying systems, inherited patterns, and the exiles or shadows that surfaced over the year, allowing grief and truth to move without being rushed toward resolution. This class is both communal descent and deliberate severing, a final skin laid down before momentum returns. From that honest ground, we turn toward the Fire Horse and ask what courage, movement, and embodied power we are ready to claim, calling our strength up from the earth and stepping forward changed.
Inner Territory Journey: Trickster
This journey moves through the part of the self that disrupts in order to wake things up. Trickster shows up here as clever, subversive, boundary-testing, and deeply necessary. As we follows this energy through the inner territory, it became clear that this isn’t about chaos for its own sake. It’s about thawing what’s been frozen, slipping through thin places, and nudging us into growth we might not have chosen consciously. What gets integrated here doesn’t stay personal. This journey carries collective impact, reminding us that small acts of disruption, humor, and courage ripple outward, loosening stuck systems and opening new pathways.
Self Reclamation: Soul Medicine
This reclamation begins by orienting the body and senses, letting a peaceful meadow visualization and chakra energy clearing create enough steadiness to continue. The ancestor visit shifts the tone from doing it alone to being accompanied, introducing guidance that arrives through relationship rather than effort. The yew tunnel and the wall remind us that exile didn’t happen randomly, and that how we approach matters. What returns here comes back through care, lineage, and trust, and the bonfire brings it all home, signaling that no part is being reclaimed in isolation.
Cord Cutting: Desert
This cord cutting uses landscape as context. The desert isn’t symbolic here, it’s practical. Sparse, exposed, honest. The journey moves through a place where there’s nowhere to hide and nothing extra to carry, which makes it possible to see an old story clearly and decide what no longer belongs to it. The cut happens through revision and choice, not confrontation, letting the narrative itself loosen so the attachment can fall away without force.
Self Intimacy as a Liberation Practice with Jessamyn Turgesen
This class turns inward in a grounded, embodied way. Jessamyn guides us into self-intimacy as a steady, daily practice—nervous system awareness, inner child tending, somatic presence, compassionate curiosity. We move slowly enough to actually feel ourselves again. The deeper thread here is freedom. When we build self-trust and stay in relationship with our own bodies, we move through the world differently. More choice. More clarity. More capacity. Liberation starts in the nervous system and ripples outward.
Writer’s Soul: Mary Austin’s Wild Voice
This class sits inside Joy Harjo’s way of listening to the world. We move through her poems as landscapes shaped by breath, memory, grief, and belonging, paying attention to how voice carries responsibility to land, ancestors, and spirit. We stay close to the tenderness and ferocity in her writing, the way image and truth travel together without explanation. Writing here feels devotional and grounded, guided by what has been carried forward and what still needs a voice.
Self Reclamation: Wild Horses
This is a Self Reclamation journey centered on rescue without reentry. The bonfire acts as a signal, not a descent point, calling exiled parts without forcing them back through memory. The wild horse appears as an untamed aspect of self that already holds strength, speed, and agency, meeting the wounded part without domination or re-traumatization. The reclamation happens through embodiment, choice, and relationship, allowing the past self to come home without losing its wildness or freedom.
Persephone
This class moves with Persephone as an initiation story that unfolds over time. We stay with descent as a lived process: the slow shedding of identities, the disorientation, the ache of longing, and the quiet work of integration that happens in the dark. Persephone opens a way to understand how loss, love, decay, and rebirth weave together, not as a single moment but as a cycle that repeats across a life. The class holds descent alongside companionship, grief alongside witness, and emergence alongside memory, reminding us that transformation happens in relationship and never in isolation.
Cord Cutting: St. Lucia’s Night
This is a ritual-based cord cutting held through light, witness, and intentional action rather than visualization alone. The use of candles, salt, and simple tools grounds the release in the body and the senses, allowing separation to happen slowly, visibly, and with care. This journey leans into ritual as a stabilizing container, where the act of cutting is paired with reverence, timing, and choice, rather than urgency or emotional force.
Uncommon Sense: A Writing Class With Jeanette LeBlanc
In this class Jeanette guides us into the tender places we’ve been circling but not naming. We write the questions behind the questions, the truths we are almost ready to admit, the love stories and heartaches still echoing in the body. Together we craft a “Dear Abby” style letter and then respond, either to our own ache or to someone else’s, practicing a steadier and more compassionate voice. This session feels like sitting at a long wooden table with women who are brave enough to tell the truth and gentle enough to answer it well. You’ll leave with prompts that keep unfolding long after the recording ends.
How To Create A Trauma Informed Writing Practice with Megan February
This class settles into the body before it ever touches the page. Megan guides us into writing as a practice of self-witness, pacing, and consent with our own stories. We talk about what it means to stay present with difficult material without abandoning ourselves, how to build safety into the creative process, and how writing can become part of healing instead of a reenactment of harm. This isn’t about producing something polished. It’s about learning to listen to your nervous system and let the words come in a way that supports your wholeness.
Self Reclamation: Bonfire
This is a self reclamation journey centered on recovering an old soul skin. The garden near the home of the inner territories acts as a place of safety and orientation before moving through the chakras to release what no longer belongs. The Selkie story functions as a living mythline here, not as teaching but as permission, naming what happens when something essential has been taken, hidden, or survived without. Reclamation unfolds through returning to an old memory from a resourced, present self and choosing to bring that version home without force. This journey is about consent, timing, and remembering that what was once stolen can still be reclaimed intact.
Cord Cutting: Communion
This cord cutting is relational and discerning rather than decisive. We will travel holy ground, lean deep into our beings, reckon with the connections that have grown stale or that have simply completed their work in us. We'll partake in a type of inner communion that gives us the opportunity to do what feels right: to sever, to readjust, to release, to firm up - there is no right or wrong. So come with your tender heart cords, come with your stories, come with your desires, come with your aches. You are the healer.
Self Reclamation: The Tomb
This journey moves toward what has been sealed rather than avoided. It follows subtle inner threads to places where parts of the self have been caught in memory, guilt, or unfinished stories, and offers a way to bring them home without forcing resolution. The tomb is not a place of finality here, but of sacred decomposition, where old narratives are allowed to break down and become nourishment for what comes next.
Cord Cutting: Let it In, Let It Out
This cord cutting lives in movement rather than separation. It works through rhythm, breath, and repetition, allowing what has been held too tightly to move through instead of being severed. The volcano is not about destruction here, but circulation. Heat, pressure, grief, joy, fear, and relief are all allowed to pass in the same current. This class belongs to moments when containment has done its job and flow is what’s needed next.
Inner Territory Journey: Samhain
We float down a river to a doorway of connection, a place to commune with your own intuition and soul’s wisdom, choosing whether to open the door for our beloved dead to join us at a feast of remembrance and communion. We wait and see who comes to sit, what blessings or advice they might bring, bearing witness to the long story of our souls woven with the lives of so many other souls. There is an invitation to reclaim our joy, our imagination, and our wild nature around the bonfire of our souls.
Inner Territory Journey: Below The Deep
In this unique Inner Territory journey we travel through bioluminescent waters, diving all the way to the floor of our inner great sea.
We encounter whale graveyards, the libraries of all of our lifetimes, and we connect to the threads that link us to ourselves and to one another - beyond language and time. We move into depth without urgency, and encounter vast, quiet, connective landscapes. We are reminded of the long story of our souls, that we are made of many lifetimes, stories, and shared threads that persist even in the deepest dark.
Self Reclamation: Largeness
This journey makes space instead of seeking change. It softens the inner landscape to make room for feral, jagged, grieving, fire breathing parts to lie down without being managed or improved. In this meditation, we offer all parts of ourselves haven rather than transformation, trusting that rest holds its own kind of intelligence.
Self Reclamation: Island of Joy
This is a unique meditation that leads us to the island of our joy. What we find there is likely to be complicated. It may feel full, distant, guarded, or unfamiliar, and grief is allowed to move alongside it. We approach joy with curiosity rather than expectation. Nothing is asked to resolve or brighten. Our attention stays with listening, learning how joy actually lives in the inner landscape when it’s given time and room.