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Thank you to the lovers, the sisters, the gurus, the mothers, and the kings who cut at our bleeding hearts not with blades but with malice and bitterness, for our deepest and most functional muscles are now toned by lifting the heavy weights of intuition, empathy, and instinct.

To the lover who left us behind to go wandering, thank you for leaving a black-hole void in our bellies that ached so persistently we had no choice but to fill it with our own molten power poured straight down from the heart-crucible where self-love still bubbled.

- Danielle Dulsky  

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What you can do :::

We all know it’s true. The places we are hurt by others only highlight the places we feel vulnerable, flawed, or hollow to begin with.



It’s that time.

The time to write yourself a love letter. Like, an actual one.

I know.


Why is this so hard to do?

Okay, let’s start here. Sit in a quiet place for a few moments. Think about that lover who cut you open the most. Whose action or lack of action made you bleed the most.


Think of where you are now. Who you are now. Think of the ways you have learned to love yourself even better than they ever loved you.

And write those things down.

And here’s the kicker: that hole inside? The one they cut open? That was probably somehow there before they arrived and then departed again?

What’s going on with that hole now, beauty?

Have you learned to love yourself? Have you learned to fill up those hole-y places with your own gorgeousness? Have you learned how to tenderly care for yourself, in a way that no lover possibly can? Because you are SO DARN GOOD AT LOVING YOURSELF that anyone else is just a bonus?

I promise you, that if you give yourself just a moment to write a lil love letter from you to you …

You will touch into yourself in a way no other human possibly can.

(If you dare.)

The love of another human being can be utterly life changing.

But your own love for yourself? It’s the ONLY fucking thing that is real.

“To the ghosts of love past. And love present. And love yet to come, or to come again, or to be glimpsed from across a room and yet never touched. To the love that crosses lifetimes or that lives between the lines. To the forevers and the brief chapters and the just right nows. To the love that is the warm body in bed that will never be touched again but that saves your life. To the loves that have left brands on my skin and to the loves that made a rough cut across the heavy red muscle of my heart. To the spaces of betrayal and betrayed and to the redemption that knits them together. To all of my loves, those found in these lines and all the rest. In the harsh grace and tender brutality and the spaces in between.

This is for all of you.” - Jeanette LeBlanc

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my deepening :::

Oh goodness. What a wild ride this life is. My whole heart is …. well, whole.

I am spending time following my own medicine, in quiet reflection, learning to forgive, love, and hold myself in the highest light.

It sounds so trite.

But you guys. It is the only thing that is real. Everything else just falls away, at the drop of a hat. POOF.

Trust me.

We are all we actually have. Yet we push ourselves away, down, and under.

Can you learn to strip back, fall back, and fall into yourself? Love yourself?

Can you be your own best parent, friend, and lover?

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muse ::: the lovers

This card is from the Marigold Tarot.

As we did last week, please take a moment to see yourself in this card. Gaze at yourself as your own lover, and as both of the ‘characters’ on this card.

What do you see? What do you feel? What do you KNOW?

Dear friends, please take this seriously. Please hold yourself as the best, truest, purest lover you will ever know.