Even as I hold you, I am letting you go.
—Alice Walker—
I woke up on a Thursday, went to the beach but it was fogged over, so I turned around and went home. I ate some breakfast, made a call I’d been putting off, and found myself with some time between tasks.
I went to my closet and took out the shoebox. The one I’d decorated when I was in a scrapbooking era. It was covered in love notes and a picture from my wedding.
Inside? Letters, concert ticket stubs, lavender sachet, handfasting cord, pictures, the handmade wedding invitation and program, and jewelry I’d hidden from sight.
This box is loud, but not as loud as it once was. And I was ready to let more go.
I want to be here. Now.
I read many of the cards. The compliments, the congratulations, the reminders of my strength, and the promises to be there—no matter what happened next.
I remembered those times. That us. That me. Who is still me. Who felt seen and loved and cherished. Who was growing in another direction.
I threw out all of the cards but one.
I used to cling to those cards, the ones that said the things I wanted to hear, but, even more importantly, what I wanted to feel. But when I read them again, I found what was always true.
Those things were true.
I was, I am, a loud-in-my-feelings-person. It is where my ideas are born. Where my perspective is uncovered. Where I find out why I feel how I do. Or I just find another hint that will make sense later.
And I was loved. Loved for parts of me I’m still a little embarrassed about, or wish were a little cooler than they are sometimes.
I guess what I’m really saying is this: maybe, sometimes, you’re not as lost or as far away from yourself as you think.
Maybe it’s just hard to see your skin and the way it has always wrapped around your bones into the shape of you because you’ve been looking all around, trying to see what’s missing.
Maybe now, you can grant yourself that deep gaze, the one that smells familiar. The one that looks over for a little longer than is comfortable.
Maybe healing doesn’t mean letting go of who you are, but remembering who you have always been.
in love and magick — Irisanya
Things I Loved This Week
Andrea Gibson’s poem, “How the Worst Day of My Life Became the Best.” I read this in a video on my Instagram and TikTok account.
Mary Oliver’s poem, “Little Summer Poem Touching the Subject of Faith”
Chani Nicholas’ post on How to Survive the Upcoming Mercury Retrograde in Leo.
MoonScape, Issue 5 - FREE and filled with lots of great articles and insights from Moon Books authors..
Classes & Events
August 23: Artemis, Entering the Temple series, online (email to get the link)
August 31: One Day with the Norns - w Irisanya & George, Santa Rosa, CA
Connect & Support
Others ways to connect and support my work!
Reply to this email or go to my website. www.irisanyamoon.com.
Bookmark my bio.site: https://bio.site/irisanyamoon
You can find my books here, Bookshop, or at online booksellers. Or ask a local shop!
You can find out about my classes and workshops here.
My podcast interviews and chats are here.
My social media accounts are Facebook, Instagram, BlueSky, and TikTok.
Wanna support my work with cash money? Ko-fi
Gorgeous release witnessed.