a love older than words.

reflecting on magnolia, strong relationships with women, and care

one of my favorite times of year is here—when the southern magnolias bloom in the sweetness of late spring before the summer solstice arrives in late june. their reemergence always reminds me of the subtle (and not so subtle) transition of these warm months and how relationship is what always carries us through one season to the next. their medicine is always right on time, always potent, and always something that enlivens every cell in my body to remember that all is transient and fleeting.

the last few weeks have been their own challenge, navigating the ebbs and flows of relationships that are in flux, asserting more of my own needs and learning to honor them despite who can or cannot meet me where i am, and just general run-of-the-mill life of living through late-stage capitalism and an ongoing pandemic.
when i reach my max threshold with humans, i turn to the other-than and more-than human relatives that share this planet with us. when i’m not in a position to be good to anyone else, i pull back and start restoring myself in all the ways i know how to be good to me.

seeing a family of magnolia trees in their neighborhood reminded me that i’ve been missing out on vital time alone, important 12H time that allows me, a 12H native, to feel rejuvenated and receptive to life in all the ways i desire to be when i feel comfortable enough to be out and seen again.

i revisited ancestral bonds and leaned on datura medicine gifted to me by my angel of a friend Jacqui—so deeply aligned with the oracle guidance for earth element this month. it’s time for me to allow many relationships to meet their natural end. beyond “cutting people off” (because i’m not always in tune with this language), my priorities have shifted, and i’m accepting that we won’t always align when things change. it’s life.