weaver

August 2026

My brain excels at recognizing patterns and weaving disparate threads together. The patterns I weave are influenced and therefore also limited by the patterns I already know, but something has shifted in me between the last two full moons and I understand now in an embodied way that the work my brain does is old, and that I can feel my ancestors in it, guiding me, opening doors I had not noticed, calling my attention to details I had not seen, and helping me start to learn to weave the threads into new patterns. The less I think about it, the more clearly I can hear them. The more I let go of the fabric I wove called me, the more I feel in my body what shape those new patterns should form.

All those generations of highly sensitive relatives of mine whose minds were so full that their thoughts ran wild and could not easily be contained whisper to me now, about people who grow hard tree bark around their tender cores with branches that break and fall on you during storms, about people you love so deeply but in loving them incompetently cause harm so acute that they can no longer feel safe in your presence, about the medicine in sunrises and sunsets and spring flowers and falling leaves and homemade pickles and fruit pies and rhythm and vibration and rest and sharing energy with other humans in intimate and vulnerable ways. That wisdom existed in me all along. It just took until now to quiet the din in my head enough to start to hear it.

For those of us whose brains are perpetually exhausted from perceiving everything constantly, the tired knowledge from generations of our ancestors who were beaten down by the world tries to reach us and help us weave the threads into a coherent pattern, but we struggle to hear it because the wisdom usually speaks through our bodies and not our minds, and so we cannot receive it because we are thinking and not listening, or listening with our brains but not our bodies and spirits. I used to always say that I wished I could just take my brain out of my head or take off my skin suit so that I could ever actually rest, but I understand now that shifting the energy in my body is where the shift in my consciousness begins. I don't want to disconnect from my flesh now. I want to inhabit it fully.

And, in doing so, and finally starting to learn to be truly present and receptive in mind, body, and spirit, I can at last begin to see how the threads that want to be woven present themselves to me and tell me about the shapes they wish to form, revealing connections and patterns that I could never have been able to force or anticipate before. It is magic moving through me, and, most magical of all, it was always there.