🌕 Witch’s Womb: Where the Wildness Begins 🧙‍♀️

Libra season hands the torch to a Scorpio eclipse — the veil thins, shadows rise, and something ancient stirs in the bones.

This month is for the Wounded Witch, the one who’s transmuted loss into legacy, grief into grit. The one who plants dandelion seeds in scorched soil and calls it medicine.

I remember the first time I let myself grieve without apology. I had just lost my Nana… not long after burying a career I once thought defined me… as the world slowly burned around me.

The cooling water to the flames? 

I was finally safe enough to fall apart.

So much grief came pouring out of me— primal, full-bodied sobbing, the kind that cracked the air open and shook the floors. And I didn’t want to make it stop. I didn’t want to be okay.

I wanted being sad to be okay. I wanted the full bodied expression of my pain to be ok to express.

When I let it move through me, when I let the tears become ritual and the wailing become spellwork, I didn’t just cry for my Nana —

I cried for my father who had been killed when I was a teenager, my mother’s absence as she choose her religion over me, my younger self and the abuse she had suffered at the hands of lovers. These were my burnt offerings, and the world I’d once belonged to.

That sacred purge — that wombquake of grief — became the compost for what came next:

That Wild Witch.

The Porcelain Priestess.

The Bowel Oracle.

Me.

Here I will share with you my herbal allies, how I connect to self and spirit, and how you can build your own bubbling cauldron of healing. 

Let me guide you down the path of the Phoenix this Spooky Season. 

🔥☠️🔥

🌿 Herbal Allies for Eclipse Season 🌛

As the veil thins and shadows start whispering your name, your body needs allies who speak the language of liminal spaces — gritty, grounded, and a little wild around the edges.

These herbs aren't here to make things easy.

They're here to help you digest the dark, call in your ancestors, and transmute the ache into alchemy.

Mugwort – The dreamwalker. This smoky priestess herb walks between worlds, stirs visions, and opens the belly for ritual. She’s bitter, yes — but that’s part of the spell. Burn her. Sip her. Let her unlock the doors inside you.

Dandelion Root – The liver's little torchbearer. This humble queen clears heat, moves grief out of the gut, and helps your body release what it clings to. She grows where others don’t dare — cracked sidewalks, burning systems, broken hearts.

Elderberry – Cloaked in velvet and folklore, she guards the body during these colder months. Protective, immune-boosting, and full of magic from the old ones. The kind of ally who helps you cross the fog without losing your sparkle.

🎃 Body Cauldron 🎃

These aren’t cutesy wellness trends.

They’re spellwork in leaf and root form.

✨ Healing isn’t tidy — it’s tangled.

✨ It’s bitter and bold and sacred.

✨ And your gut already knows which allies to call on.

🧘‍♀️ Somatic Ritual for the Season🦴

October is the month of descent — into the body, into the shadow, into the aching dark that makes rebirth possible.

As the veil thins and ancestral breath brushes the back of your neck, your body becomes the bowl that holds it all.

This ritual isn’t about fixing anything.

It’s about feeling the holy unraveling.

It’s about letting your body become the altar for grief, memory, and regeneration.

Let this be a spell of surrender. Let this be a portal.

Here’s how to begin:

🌿 Sit or lie down on something soft. Let your hips feel held.

🕯 Light a candle and call in your grief as sacred.

☁️ Burn mugwort or anoint with oil that makes you feel bold and ancient.

🫶 Place both hands over your lower belly — the womb, the gut, the deep.

Breathe into it.

Deeper. Slower. Wider.

Let your breath fill the cauldron of your belly, then spill down into your thighs, your roots.

Begin to sway. Let it be primal. Let it be messy. Let it be yours.

If sound wants to come — let it.

If tears rise — welcome them as honored guests.

And whisper, or growl, or moan:

“I don’t need to hold it all.

I let the body speak.

I let the spell move me.”

This is a ritual of release.

Of reclamation.

Of remembering that your body was never the problem — it was always the portal.

Take as long as you need.

Even five minutes here becomes sacred time. 

💌 Invitation to Reach Out✍️

This isn’t a launch email. No big promo.

Just a reminder that my inbox is open.

If your gut is tangled, if your dreams feel haunted, if you’re carrying grief that needs somewhere to land…

Reply. Ask.

Tell me your questions about digestive health, grief, ritual, or just where you are on your wild witch journey.

We are allowed to ask for mirrors. We are allowed to be seen in the in-between.

🕯️

Until next moon,

That Wild Witch