The Demesne of the Goddess
he uninitiated believe that ‘our time’ begins the moment you walk into the room. Lucky for me, you know better. Step inside the Demesne—a sanctuary where the noise of the world is stripped away and replaced by a slow, sovereign current. This is not a session; it is a ritual of return, a descent into the deep river of a long-term bond where trust is absolute and surrender is the only freedom.
The Winter I Stopped Asking for Permission
In the quiet hours of a Portland winter, toddy in hand, the fear used to nag at me: had I rendered myself invisible in the pursuit of my truest self? The answer, I found, was a resounding no. This January, I chose to walk away from what no longer served me, trading the rollercoaster for the steady course of a woman who knows her worth. The winter is cold, but those with whom I share my hearth find a warmth that is absolute.