Dear friend,

Have you felt it, too? The ‘winds’ have been wild lately — inside and out.

Yesterday morning, I sat in my backyard to meditate.

It took a while to quiet my mind — the chatter was fierce, and there’s a lot swirling in my world right now.

After sitting for a few minutes, I noticed the wind buffeting my body, pushing me around with its ferocity. I did my best to ignore it and return to my breath.

Then I noticed my right foot had fallen asleep. I stretched it out and soon felt that sharp, tingling rush of pins and needles — and found myself irritated by the discomfort.

But then something inside me encouraged me to let go… What if the pins and needles weren’t “a painful distraction” — what if they instead were the feeling of life returning to my body?

With that reframe, the sensation no longer bothered me…and then it was done.

The wind, however, was still pushing me around… So I took a breath and invited myself to experience the wind not as opposition, but as force — as aliveness — as nature doing what nature does. (And I thought of my friend’s great aunt who said, “The wind is just Mother Nature combing her hair.🌿❤️)

I followed another urge to lay down on the earth and let myself be fully held. I usually meditate with my eyes closed, but something in me whispered to open them — to let that be okay. To meditate eyes open, lying down, fully supported, fully received, fully experiencing myself as part of this living world around me.

Below the wind, I watched the leaves above me being ripped from the branches, and felt the pain of that loss. Every year, I tell myself the same story — how much I love the fall, how beautiful the changing leaves are, and how sad I feel when the wind whips them away, always too soon. And today, the wind was doing just that.

And…just like with my foot “waking up,” I remembered: this too is part of the natural cycle. In resisting it, I miss the message. I muddy its beauty. I complicate its simplicity. I refuse the gift.

It’s okay to grieve the change, but what if I don’t need to keep retelling myself the same story of “loss”?

What if I instead:
take a breath,
appreciate what is,
and let myself feel the sadness of the shift while remembering the bigger picture—

…this natural death cycle we’re entering as we head toward the dark winter months
is preparing the way for a time of rebirth in the spring.

There is beauty in all of it. And just by being present — by looking for the beauty, honoring what’s alive for me in each moment — I can find peace inside. I can slow down the experience of time and savor what is, opening myself to the gifts of this singular moment.

And as I lay there watching the leaves let go of the branches, I realized how deeply I’ve been conditioned to resist change, even the natural kind.
Yet what if the invitation is not to fight the cycle, but to learn to rest inside it?
To trust that death and release are also part of the rhythm of life…preparing for renewal?

At the same time, there is a kind of resistance that is sacred.
The kind that says no to domination, violence, and greed.
The kind we saw this week in the second No Kings protest — when millions across the world gathered to stand against the old systems, peacefully, intentionally, powerfully.
No major violence, only conviction and care.

And yet, I’ll be honest — I felt fear in my body as I thought about attending.
That fear was alive in me.
And I chose to honor it — to recognize that part of what these oppressive systems want is for us to stay afraid, to choose comfort over courage, to keep ourselves safe at the expense of collective safety and freedom.

So I did what I know to do: I asked my intuition if it was on my path to attend.
I prayed for peace and safety across all protest sites. I set intention.
And I used the gifts I’ve been given to hold the field in a different way…

I imagined planting invisible seeds of light in the earth beneath the places of potential violence — seeds that would bloom into peace, protection, and love for all beings present.
I imagined those roots growing up and through the soil, creating a luminous force field around each gathering — an invisible web of sacred energy reminding everyone inside it that they are held.

Part of me wants to say it didn’t make a difference.
And part of me knows it did.
Because intention matters.

Just like with the wind and the leaves, we are learning to resist what’s unnatural — the systems of domination, separation, and fear — and to surrender to what’s real — love, truth, and the remembering that we are all connected.

We are in a great Turning, a collective shedding of what no longer serves, and each of us has a role in how this next chapter unfolds.

As we move toward the economic blackout in late November — a collective pause on consumption and complicity — may we remember that our power grows when we use it together.
When we withdraw our energy from systems that exploit and reinvest it in love, community, and repair.

May we each find our way to honor this season —
to let the winds of change move through us,
to release what no longer needs to be held,
and to trust that what comes next
will be even more beautiful
because we allowed ourselves to let go.

💗 Upcoming Offerings

If you’re craving a space to rest into this season of change — to release, receive, and reconnect — here are a few upcoming ways to be held in community:

🌕 Channeled Sound Healing Circles — 2-4x per month, in-person in Denver (see Events page)
Come bathe in vibration and light. Let sound move through you, loosening what’s ready to fall away.

🌐 Virtual Healing Circle: The Future We Choose — last Friday of each month (see Events page)
Gather with others committed to creating the new world through love, care, and embodied leadership.

🎥 Unbecoming “Karen” Livestream — usually 3rd Thursday of each month
Join me and two of my dearest white-bodied, healer friends as we explore healing from internalized supremacy and remembering our shared humanity.

And if you’re craving ongoing support — a space to deepen into your medicine, embody your light, and be nourished while offering your gifts — my membership community opens soon.
✨ Click here to learn more and join the waitlist.

With reverence,
Clarissa

P.S. Just like I felt a renewed sense of hope after the success and peace of No Kings 2, this morning, as I sat to meditate, I noticed that there were still plenty of beautiful leaves on plenty of beautiful trees, even after the ferocity of yesterday’s wind storm.

For lunch, I had a delicious tomato sandwich from one of the last ripe tomatoes I’ll receive from my garden this year. Somehow, something has shifted – the pain of loss has diminished, replaced by the joy and wonder of experiencing what I have.

What are you noticing about the beauty around you? Comment below – may we all be reminders of the beauty that is.