Soft Structures: Recalibration

A July transmission.

Threshold: Cancer season. Archetypes: Moon, Chariot, Star. Theme: Hope as discipline. Texture: sea glass, abalone shell. Color: verdant shades of green, ocean blue, violet. Soundscapes: summer storms, doors slamming shut from airflow through open windows, fireworks echoing in the distance.

---

Last week, I visited my friend’s new studio for a new moon tarot reading. It was June 25th, an astrologically significant threshold, marking the end of one twelve-year Jupiter cycle and the beginning of another. Together, we planted hopeful seeds for our futures, casting our respective lists for how we’d like our lives to take shape over the next decade.

I keep coming back to this theme of cycle-breaking. I posted about it on Instagram and explored it in my most recent episode of Both/And, examining our current sociocultural and political climate through the lens of generational and ancestral trauma. What we inherit and attempt to heal in our personal lives is often a fractal of a larger collective unraveling. The decay of our old systems have been brought into the light, and it’s impossible to ignore.

This is an undeniably charged moment, but I’m not saying that to stoke fear. I’m saying it in the hope that it stirs something else: the courage to imagine what could emerge if we had both the tools and the will to meet what’s coming. There are challenges ahead. There always are when a world ends. Or, at the very least, when a particular way of life begins to show cracks in its shiny exterior.

We’ve spent so long entangled in systems built on extraction, the oroboros of consumption, greed, and exploitation, that it can feel disorienting to even glimpse a life beyond them. I’ve felt more awake in recent weeks, nudged by brief but insistent flashes of clarity. I see just how much abundance already exists within my life. Perhaps not by a rich man’s standards, but by my own. Clean water, a stocked fridge. The trees outside my window, birdsong in the morning. My family, my dogs, my friends. Intangible currencies like time, space, and the capacity to feel and create. All of it is here, and I’ve spent over a decade cultivating it. I’ve spent the last few weeks recalibrating what “wealth” means to me, rooting into genuine gratitude without slipping into gaslighting tendencies or self-erasure.

Summer gives us that permission to slow down, to take a few things off our plates, and to tend to what’s been neglected, both internally and collectively. That stillness is both a luxury and preparation. Soon, we’ll be called to begin again. To confidently embody the role of the architect, and reimagine our lives from the foundation up, building something more just, compassionate, and whole. But for now, we rest. Jump in cold water when the heat is thick enough to cut, lie beneath the sun, and feed what’s blooming within.

---

The full July transmission, which includes a playlist, journaling prompts, and a summer reading syllabus, is available for paid subscribers. Sometimes, it will include an off-the-cuff voice note, or whatever I’m feeling like transmitting that month.

If this kicked up some psychic debris of your own, consider joining. Your support allows me to continue researching, writing, and creating — the work I love most.

✶ Become a paid subscriber to access the full July transmission →

---

Visual Spells & A Sonic Field for July