Once upon a time I was a theater kid.
Then I was a college student studying literature.
Then I was a massage therapist, an aromatherapist, a ritualist, and, I guess, “witchy”.
And now I’m 49 with yet another version, fresher.
I spent Queen season scanning my life from this archetype’s signature bird’s eye view.
I looked at the quaint squares of farmland, winding rivers, and concentrations of light suggesting settlements.
Metaphorically speaking.
And what I saw from this vantage point was change.
Personal evolution.
I’m “becoming” (as we’re all always “becoming”, hopefully).
A revised edition of myself and my work has begun to solidify.
Before I go on, I’ll pause to ask, you too?
And, are you allowing it?
What do we do when our branding doesn’t look like who we are anymore?
What’s the move when a “way” or a “look” that we’ve invested in, maybe spent decades inhabiting or lots of money creating, is suddenly off?
Ok, imagine a third grader approaches you wearing too-tight clam-diggers. They fit fine last year, hemmed perfectly to the tops of the shoes.
And now the pants don’t fit.
Are you mad at the pants?
Do you insist, tough shit kid because those are your pants forever.
Would you be astounded? Like wait a second, kids grow?
Worst of all, would you get pissed — you’re in big trouble for growing so much that your pants don’t fit.
Or would you just say, wow you’ve grown so much! You need some pants that fit you. Let’s go get some right now.
Yeah, the last one. Obviously.
So, what “fits you” now? Get more of that.
And what doesn’t fit you anymore, your own version of too-tight clam-diggers from the third grade? Be done with that stuff, but not mad at it.
On that note, The Archetelegram’s new design and the logo for The Darkwood School, “fits me”.
It reflects that I am working with a unique pedagogy of my own design; solid, not a blurred line or ethereal image in sight.
These are the designs of a pedagogy with a proper curriculum, years in the making.
You’ll notice the circles with lines through them. This is a nod to the way I use the lunar phases and seasons as foundational elements of the curriculum
And you’ll notice a pretty bold declaration: The Darkwood School.
The Darkwood School is the official name of the educational branch of my offerings, different from river island apothecary which is a collection of anointing oils.
The Darkwood School includes the workbooks, almanacs, writer’s groups, and year-long mystery school cohorts.
It also includes certain techniques for using the river island apothecary anointing oils, like Archetype Mapping and other divination methods.
So if you’re enrolled or enrolling, you can say you’re “doing a class at The Darkwood School”.
Listen, The Darkwood School doesn’t even have its own website yet.
But it’s real.
And its “way” includes self-awareness and self-inquiry, noticing, using archetypes as a language, Earth and her Nature, and using the senses to access and build upon wisdom.
The methodology includes writing, synesthesia, collective experience, ritual & anointing, and the Earth.
So now at 49, I’m the content creator at The Darkwood School.
And that fits.
What I do with that is…help you know what fits you as you become, evolve, and change in the arc of your amazing life.
July 18, 2024
I can’t remember my dreams from last night,
only waking up with kittens sleeping against my back
as the watery blue light of the morning
leaked through the bamboo blinds.
Then I waste half my french press of coffee
looking at my phone,
my neck bent at that guilty angle and
my eyes, in their last months of my fortieth decade,
struggling.
I missed sipping the coffee hot while the air of the morning touched my shoulders.
And I missed the quiet before cars start roaring down the road.
I missed the kittens winding around my feet,
rolling on their backs triumphant for having eaten their breakfast.
I missed about two inches of the sun’s climb,
and the breeze blowing through a rain-soaked tree in the distance,
sunlight beaming through the momentary shower, dazzling.
I missed the crows, murdered up and chattering as they
filled the trees around me.
I also must’ve missed the pull of Jupiter’s gravity, way out there in space.
And the sound of the bay filling at Fundy, air gurgling from the muck
as flat or beach became floor once again.
Did I miss the scratching footsteps of the beetle walking one grain of white-sand at a time in New Mexico?
Did I miss the sound of the writer’s chair creaking, vacated once the deadline’s met,
or the sudden quiet of the bear’s crunching footsteps pausing,
her usual trail blocked by new vacation units?
What did I miss, trying to not miss
the gruel spoon fed by the phone?
What did I miss, motivated by malnourishment
that
leaves me feeling so thin in the heart?
Like hands clutching my face, squeezing
my cheeks until my lips pucker like a fish,
demanding my attention.
Demanding my attention.
But I wrench away
in time to see a Nuthatch hop down the Black Gum’s trunk.
love and The Darkwood School,
xo
kv
