This full moon weekend was a wild ride.
I jumped and cheered the calling of the corners and danced around a witch friend’s house with strangers-turned-friends ringing bells into cupboards as part of a house blessing that was Dionysian and delicious. Little-me could only have dreamed of this — to collectively co-create and celebrate so joyfully.
I drove with my two little sisters to sit at my grandmother’s feet. She surfaced from where her memories run underground these days to cackle, tell stories, tell me she loves my new short hair, and beat us decisively at cards.
I stayed in the city for doctor’s appointments, EKGs, more antibiotics. I’m still fighting a recurring infection, offering my blood to research as I join a new clinical trial for high-risk cancers. But I'm home now, and I'll tell you this: I feel stronger every day.
Lean towards that feeling with me: Stronger. Every. Day.
As a coven, in the Weavers group, we led each other, learned from each other, built up our power, and took our plea for a just world — rising from these systems in collapse — to the feet of our dear trees at the four corners of Turtle Island. We asked them, please, for help. We felt the weight of our grief and our rage as we asked.
We felt our call reverberate throughout the tender world.
And maybe the trees heard us. Maybe the mountains carried our howls farther than we could know. Because in the days that followed, power cracked. K.P. Sharma Oli fell in Nepal after Gen Z protestors defied curfews and risked bullets to demand accountability. François Bayrou was ousted in France, his austerity agenda collapsing under the weight of public and parliamentary revolt. Shigeru Ishiba stepped down in Japan after voters stripped his party of its majority, demanding a new future. And in Brazil, the old ghost of authoritarianism was bound: Jair Bolsonaro was convicted and sentenced for his coup attempt. The far-right strongman now sits under house arrest, and the spell of impunity is breaking. And a man who repeatedly advocated against sensible gun laws was shot.
As Amanda Yates Garcia wrote this week:
We are part of the web of life. We are not separate. The web of life is stressed. And so if you are part of the web of life, then you are also stressed.
When a political figure is assassinated, we are part of that reality, whether or not we liked that person.
Assassination is the logical consequence of the world the Overculture has created. It isn’t surprising.
It’s going to get even less surprising.
Looking around, we see the pathways to stability closing.
We can feel something coming, the excitement of the molecules, the pressure building, the explosions on their way.
We feel it all. And yet, and still. We insist upon leaning towards each other and towards the life that emerges after the unjust systems are dismantled, the would-be fascists jailed, the children dancing in the streets, marginalized and disabled people centred and supported to lead in the creation of our collective, revelatory futures.
Let's take these events as omens, as offerings, as proof that collapse and creation are sisters. May we keep calling for justice where we live, keep demanding that guns stop killing children, sweep out the ash of what has burned and plant there a future worth rising for. When we gather under the New Moon in Virgo, we will carry these stories to the altar, root ourselves in care, and speak our futures into being.
🌑 Prescription: Clear the Ground, Call the Future
Ritual:
- Sweep the floor. Open a window. Feel the air shift.
- Read Zoe Flowers’ poem, Terribly Beautiful Seeds, created live from our words during the Weavers Full Moon Ritual, aloud. Read it to the dinner table, to a sacred grove, to a clean room waiting to see what you will do next.
- Then put on Someday by Ruby Ibarra & The Balikbayans — music that dismantles the glamour of the American dream and still calls us all to a collective future.
- Move your body while the song plays — dance, stretch, sway, punch the air, shake out what’s stuck.
- When the song ends, whisper a prayer for the just systems you want to rise. Imagine them sprouting from the cracks in the pavement, tending them with your hands. Insist upon a version of the future where all children everywhere live in love, wake up with their hopes held as precious. Please don't fucking give up.
🔗 Draw Lines, Take Action
🌟 Upcoming Coven Events
- Plantkin: Seasonal Transitions — Winding Up / Down the Growing as the Wheel Turns...
Sunday, Sep 14 • 7–9 PM ADT / 3–5 PM PST
Hosted by Jasmin (she/they)
As the Wheel of the Year turns toward Mabon, we move inward — light wanes, winds cool — and tend quieter rhythms, hearth, reflection. - Missing Witches Conversation w/ G.B. Jones!!!
Wednesday, Sep 17 • 6:00–6:45 PM EDT
Hosted by Amy T.
Witchcraft, punk bands, zines, queer homocore and art. Dive into culture, resistance, and portraiture. - Mabon Spellbound Show & Tell!
Hosted by Jasmin (she/they)
Share whatever you’re working on — art, projects, hobbies — or simply come to behold others’ magic. - FEATURED EVENT September New Moon in Virgo — Full Coven Ritual: Building Power, Calling Forth the Future
Sunday, Sep 21 • 8:00–9:30 PM EDT
Hosted by Risa
Under Virgo’s practical gaze, we root in care, rise in power, and speak the futures we are building together. Collaborators for readings, corners, and power-building welcome.
This prescription, these stories, this ritual push us to remember: grief and resistance travel together. The world is cracked open and screaming. We must tend it, dance across its ruins, imagine what comes next. Let's stack the deck for futures rooted in justice, love, and wild possibility and sing together a song of all our somedays.
With fierce love,
Risa + Amy
