07/12/2025
This first week of December already sang an entire year of emotions.
I had been discovering new chambers of my own myth, walked with my favourite queens of Portugal, had been torn and taken apart by the two faces of each situation & coin, in my life. And then finally landed deeper again, in the centre of my wild heart. I was flying down into the center of the world, not sure anymore which feathers were mine.
Have been writing like a maniac, with an urgency and no interest in pleasing myself. With my middle finger up, mostly to all the people that fed my internal voice of unworthiness of writing.
I have been kissed by kindness and grace this entire year, along the transmutation of the eternal story of grief, guilt and blame. I love grief, not so much the others - also why I’ve decided not to visit churches for a while, and open a weekly space for your communion with your holy ( ).
I finally celebrate my ability to sense, and will do my best in allowing myself the solitude to digest our fellow hearts.
Everything is open in this last month of the year, I see the horses galloping and the wind in my hair.
This month is about restoring faith, remembering trust in it’s depth, about reclaiming our power, and seeing our spines transforming into the muscles of the great mother.
com amor, Jill
❤️🔥
