The Tower & The Child: The Alchemy of Letting Go
Even in the ruins, love takes root again.
When I pulled The Tower this morning, I smiled the way you do when sometimes the cards call your soul’s bluff.
Scorpio season always brings lessons in destruction and renewal—but this year, the themes are sharper.
I’m walking through my Chiron return, a season of reckoning and rebirth, with my progressed Moon in Scorpio illuminating what must be released.
So it feels fitting to write about one of my own Tower moments—the kind that unravels everything you think you know about love, faith, and control.
As someone born with a natal complex with Pluto, I’ve known my fair share of collapse and resurrection.
But one particular initiation—the one that first cracked my heart wide open—began the day I became a foster parent.
The Call to Nurture
Over a decade ago, I answered the quiet call to foster.
But, like many things in life, you don’t realize what that commitment means until you are in the middle of it—until your heart becomes both sanctuary and battlefield.
Sometimes, fostering is simple sacred service: a temporary place of healing until a child can safely return home.
But there are also cases where your intuition whispers that returning home may not bring safety or stability.
Those are the ones that keep you awake at night—the ones that test your trust in the Divine’s plan.
My very first placement was such a case.
A bright, beautiful child whose spirit seemed to shine despite all he’d endured.
For six months, I was his entire world—and he, mine.
I took time off work to care for him full-time, channeling every ounce of love and intention into creating safety, rhythm, and warmth.
At the time, I was just beginning to practice manifestation and energy work.
Each month, I visualized his future: a home filled with laughter, security, and belonging.
I set intentions, cleared trauma, and believed I was co-creating the outcome with Spirit.
And miracles did happen.
His health improved, his joy returned, his energy radiated wholeness again.
Then came the call.
A family member—previously deemed unfit—was granted custody.
My knees buckled. The anger, grief, and disbelief came in waves.
And after the storm, only silence remained.
It was in that silence that I finally began to hear what the Divine had been whispering all along.
The Fall
That silence became my teacher.
It showed me that I had not been surrendering—I had been bargaining.
I had wrapped control in the language of faith, gripping the outcome because I was terrified of losing what I had grown to so deeply love.
It was a revelation that cut straight to my core wound:
that deep, ancient belief that safety depends on control.
That love will abandon me unless I manage every variable.
That the unknown cannot be trusted.
But true surrender is not passive.
It is an act of sacred courage—a willingness to release your timeline and trust that the Divine intelligence within all things knows more than you do.
When I finally unclenched my heart and let go, I felt something remarkable: the quiet hum of peace beneath all of the layers of pain.
It was as if the Universe exhaled through me, whispering, “Now, let Me.”
The Tower fell, but in its rubble, I found truth.
That love does not need control to be real.
That faith begins precisely where certainty ends.
That the soul’s evolution often hides inside the heartbreaks we resist most.
The Alchemy of Allowing
This is the Scorpionic art—the sacred death that precedes rebirth.
To allow is not to give up; it is to stop interfering with the Divine choreography.
When we surrender, the ego mourns what it cannot fix, but the soul begins to bloom in the dark.
That’s the paradox: our deepest transformation doesn’t come from holding on—it comes from allowing collapse to do its most sacred work.
The moment I stopped clinging to how I thought things should unfold, the energy shifted.
Grace entered.
I began to feel life moving through me rather than against me.
It was as if the Universe took my broken plans and wove them into a pattern too vast for me to initially see.
This was not loss.
It was initiation.
And through it, I was reborn into my Empress self—the mother who loves without possession, who is learning to create without demand, and who trusts the unseen cycles of death and rebirth. Breaking the generational cycles before me, and helping to heal ancestral patterning that has been carried in my lineage for far too long.
The Rebuild
From that soil of surrender, everything changed.
My intuition opened.
My spiritual gifts began to softly awaken.
My understanding of love transformed.
Looking back, I see that The Tower never came to destroy me—it came to free me.
It stripped away the illusion that I was ever in control, revealing the truth that I have always been held.
Sometimes grace wears the mask of devastation.
Sometimes love’s highest act is to let go.
And sometimes, the collapse you fear most is simply your soul rearranging itself into greater alignment.
Final Blessing
If you are standing in your own Tower moment, trembling at the edge of surrender, know this:
You are not being punished—you are being purified.
The fire is making space for what’s real.
Let it.
Because when you finally release the need to control the outcome,
you make room for miracles that were waiting for your yes all along.
Wishing you much love along your journey, now and always,
Seraph
The Archetype of the Fool: The Sacred Leap Into Your Soul’s Evolution
The Fool tarot card: a bright figure stands at the edge of a cliff, gazing upward with trust and wonder. A small pack hangs over his shoulder, a white rose of innocence in his hand, and a loyal dog leaps at his feet. The sun blazes above, symbolizing joy and limitless potential. He is poised mid-step, ready to leap into the unknown.
The Fool is card 0—a circle, both empty and infinite. He is the place where endings collapse into beginnings, where innocence and mastery meet.
In early tarot decks, there were actually two Fools—one at the beginning and one at the end of the Major Arcana. From them came the Jokers in modern playing cards—wild cards that exist outside the rules. The Fool reminds us that your soul’s path is not about playing by the rules—it’s about learning to trust the flow of Spirit.
Lessons of the Fool:
• Trust the unknown. The path is revealed one step at a time.
• Travel light. Freedom arrives when we let go of baggage and control.
• Begin again. Every ending is an invitation to rebirth.
• Sacred risk. Growth and transformation live at the edge, not in the comfort zone.
• Feminine flow. The Fool doesn’t force or strategize—he aligns, responds, and allows life to carry him.
Shadows: Where the Fool Can Trip Us Up
• Recklessness - mistaking chaos for freedom.
• Escaping responsibility under the guise of “freedom”. Avoidance through the costume of adventure.
• Becoming jaded; losing innocence to cynicism after wounds.
• Insecurity; being mocked, misunderstood, or dismissed by a world that fears surrender.
The Fool’s challenge is to stay aligned—moving in trust with Spirit, not in avoidance. Holding on to wonder without losing discernment. Staying open-hearted, even after we’ve been hurt.
The Fool’s Gifts
• Creative genius: Infinite possibility springs from nothingness. Alignment with your life path and trusting the flow of opportunity often sparks genius and magical synchronicities.
• Magnetism: Authentic joy naturally attracts people and opportunities.
• Resilience: Every stumble becomes sacred wisdom.
• Beginner’s mind: The courage to reinvent yourself again and again.
• Detachment: When we release attachment to outcomes, we live in Spirit’s flow—and miracles enter with ease.
Perhaps the greatest gift: The Fool never forgets that life is meant to be lived, not controlled.
The Fool Across Wisdom Systems
The Fool shows up across countless wisdom traditions, each revealing a different facet of his medicine. Here are just a few examples of how this archetype appears.
• Gene Keys: The Fool mirrors the transformation from shadow into gift. For instance, the “shadow” of the Gene Key of Purposelessness often feels like wandering without direction—yet this is the very soil in which the gift of Totality (living fully engaged and present in life) is born. Think of someone leaving a career that no longer fits, feeling “lost” - only to discover that in letting go, a deeper calling emerges. In other keys, innocence matures into universal love, echoing the Fool’s unguarded, trusting heart.
• Human Design: The Fool embodies the Generator’s sacred response—waiting to engage with what life offers and invites rather than forcing outcomes. As this is often when the magic unfolds. Picture this: a casual “yes” to an unexpected conversation leads to a profound relationship or opportunity. This is the Fool’s magic—life opening when we are aligned with Spirit’s invitations.
• Astrology: The Fool channels Uranus’s liberation and sudden disruption, Neptune’s dreamy innocence, and Sagittarius/9th House’s quest for truth. Think of a Uranus transit that upends your life—painful in the moment, yet later revealing itself as the crack through which your soul light poured forth and you began to live more authentically. Whenever these archetypes light up in your chart, you are being invited to leap into your next evolution.
The Fool is the archetype that bridge all systems: he is the risk of not knowing, and the reward of discovering. In every system, the Fool teaches the same thing: alignment with Spirit’s flow is not passive—it is the most courageous act of surrender. And often, when the most beautiful magic begins to unfold.
How the Fool Unlocks Growth
• Creativity awakens when perfectionism dissolves.
The Fool doesn’t wait for perfect conditions—he creates as he goes. Start messy, respond to the moment, and you’ll find inspiration pouring through you. Creativity is the child of trust, not control.
• Fear transforms when failure becomes initiation.
The Fool knows there is no such thing as wasted experience. Every wrong turn, every fall, becomes compost for wisdom. When we shift from “I failed” to “I learned,” we alchemize fear into growth. Fear dissolves when failure becomes a sacred teacher instead of a punishment.
• Faith strengthens when you discover the net always appears.
The net isn’t visible until you leap. But think back—every time you dared to risk (love, relocation, new work, new path), wasn’t there always something that caught you? Spirit always meets us mid-air. The Fool shows us that life is not here to punish us, but to hold us as we risk becoming more.
• Joy heals because play is sacred medicine.
Play reopens the heart. It quiets the inner critic and invites the nervous system back into regulation. Joy is not frivolous—it is a spiritual practice, a feminine flow state that magnetizes abundance.
• Evolution accelerates when you release attachment.
This is perhaps the Fool’s deepest teaching. We cannot cling to outcomes and still walk in Spirit’s flow. Detachment does not mean apathy—it means trusting that what falls away was never meant to stay, and what is aligned will arrive in perfect timing. At some point we stop waiting to be ready, and just take the leap. And, in releasing control, we step into flow—and flow always carries us where we are meant to go.
Practices to Embody the Fool
Reflections:
• Where am I hesitating to leap without certainty?
• What identity or outcome am I clinging to that Spirit is asking me to release?
• How might my life expand if I chose trust and flow instead of control?
• How can I invite more presence into my day today?
Embodiment Practice
Dance barefoot outdoors—no choreography, no music, just the rhythm of your body. This is Fool energy: moving in presence, free from the mind’s judgment, carried only by Spirit. Embrace freedom, connection, and spontaneity in your body today in some form or way - be fully present in that moment and allow yourself to connect.
Simple Ritual Idea:
• Choose a talisman (stone, feather, flower).
• Place it on your altar as your Fool’s Charm.
• Each day, hold it and ask: Spirit, where are you inviting me to trust today?
• Affirm: “I release attachment. I leap into the flow of life, and life always catches me.”
The Fool is not foolish. He is the sacred wanderer who knows that the map is written only as we walk it. He is not here to make sense to the world. He is here to make sense of the soul. He walks between beginnings and endings, laughing at the illusion of control, showing us that alignment with Spirit is the only true safety.
To embody the Fool is to live unattached, yet deeply engaged and present. To let go of the script, yet meet each moment with your whole heart. This is where freedom lives - not in certainty, but in trust.
The Fool whispers: You cannot cling and fly and fly at the same time.
He is the bridge between masculine planning and feminine surrender, showing us that the flow of Spirit is not weakness, but the highest form of wisdom.
When you live in this flow, you discover the secret paradox:
You were never falling. You were always being carried.
The Sisterhood Wound: Why You’re Afraid to Speak, Lead, or Shine
The Sisterhood Wound explains why so many women fear speaking, leading, and shining. Discover the roots of this wound, how it shapes relationships, and the path to healing.
Why Women Stay Silent: The Hidden Wound No One Talks About
There’s a grief that lies in our bones, which we rarely name.
It’s the ache of betrayal without a blade. A silencing that doesn’t come from force, but from side-eyes, group chats, and a quiet withdrawal of warmth the moment you dare to become too much—too loud, too visible, too different.
This is the Sisterhood Wound.
And whether you were shamed by a friend for sharing too much, rejected by a group when you dared to lead, or quietly punished for shining brighter than what was “allowed,” this wound shapes more of our self-worth than we realize.
What Is the Sisterhood Wound?
The Sisterhood Wound is a collective trauma rooted in centuries of competition, scarcity, and betrayal among women and feminine beings. It shows up when:
• You hesitate to speak your truth in a group.
• You play small so others won’t feel uncomfortable.
• You avoid leadership to avoid being targeted.
• You distrust other women’s motives—especially in spiritual or professional circles.
• You shrink after being praised, fearing the backlash.
Historically, our power as women was dangerous. Over time, in countless ways, it was quietly targeted and diminished. To survive, women were often forced to betray each other. Think: witch trials, arranged marriages, inheritance laws, exclusion from education, etc. Survival meant loyalty to patriarchy over sisterhood. And despite our many advancements, that ancestral scar still echoes today. And if you are a man and you’re reading this, and identify with it, it’s likely because you carry a similar community wound. Sadly, these are far more common than we think. And they are important to recognize, name, and heal, because without doing so, they will hold you back and replay in different variants, over and over again in your life.
Personal Signs You’re Holding This Wound
• You second-guess yourself after sharing something vulnerable.
• You feel “energetically punished” when you set healthy boundaries.
• You fear being seen, even if you crave it.
• You’ve felt scapegoated in friend groups.
• You shrink your own magic and magnetism so others don’t feel insecure.
Let me say this clearly: none of this means you’re broken. It means your nervous system has learned to associate safety with invisibility—and that can be healed.
When This Wound Shows Up in Community
Recently, (story shared within the Sovereign Path Series), I witnessed this dynamic unfold in real time.
What began as a sacred space for growth and initiation slowly revealed fractures beneath the surface—moments where others bypassed hard truths, betrayed private trust, stood with a leader even if it went against their gut instincts, or quietly silenced one another’s voices.
Because when the Sisterhood Wound is active inside a community, it creates fertile ground for control, confusion, and silence.
Some of us questioned ourselves:
“Was I too much?”
“Did I misread the energy?”
“Is it safer to stay quiet than risk conflict?”
Others felt pressured to conform to the collective story, fearing exile if they dared to speak against it.
Why This Happens in Group Dynamics:
The Group Mindset - Why We Stay Quiet
When we sense conflict, exclusion, or betrayal within a group, most people don’t act from their highest selves - they act from survival. The nervous system reads rejection or confrontation as a threat. This triggers what psychologists call fawning (appeasing), freezing (shutting down), or mirroring (aligning with the dominant voice to avoid exile). And in spiritual spaces or other groups centered around healing, spirituality, or personal growth, where we expect safety and authenticity, this can often look like:
Staying silent rather than risking being seen as “the problem”
Siding with the most charismatic voice to avoid being targeted
Self-betraying (“I’m fine, it’s fine”) while quietly collapsing inside
Bypassing harm with “love and light” language (or other superficial stories of false community or celebration) to maintain the illusion of harmony
This isn’t weakness. It’s wiring.
Our ancestors learned that exile from the tribe meant death. And our nervous systems still carry that memory.
2. How Manipulators Exploit This Wound
Trust me when I say, a manipulative leader doesn’t always look like a tyrant or a readily visible person you can easily peg. More often than not, they appear supportive, magnetic, and benevolent on the surface. But underneath, they’re studying the group, sensing vulnerabilities, and using our longing to belong as leverage.
Some common tactics:
Reframing Dissent as Betrayal -
Anyone who questions the narrative gets labeled as “negative”, “unspiritual”, simply “doesn’t understand”, or is “not in alignment”. This is intentional - it weaponizes the Sisterhood Wound - making others fear becoming the next exile. Healthy leaders aren’t afraid or threatened of respectful discord, curious exploration, or discussions that open a collective mindset or group perspective. They genuinely want to learn from each other, support each other, and support the greater good of the collective.
Creating Conditional Safety
Approval, access, or visibility within the group is tied (usually subtly) to obedience. Those who comply are “chosen”, “seen”, or validated in some way. Those who challenge are usually subtly pulled out of positions of influence or iced over. If you are in a group with subtle or overt control dynamics, rethink the psychological health of that community. Healthy communities support your psychological safety - they encourage you to respectfully share opinions, questions, and wins. There is no hidden rivalry or competition.; they cultivate a culture of genuine camaraderie.
Controlling the Story
When harm happens, the manipulator reframes it so they remain the benevolent guide and others are blamed, dismissed, or doubted. Or, other methods, such as triangulation is used to seed multiple storylines and create conflict and control through interpersonal dynamics. Over time, this erodes trust - but the illusion of harmony keeps people quiet. Respectful discord is healthy. Mature people understand that there will always be differences of opinion and that no one person is ever without error. A healthy leader understands the need to hold compassionate truth and to also let energy naturally ebb and flow. They cultivate a culture dynamic of openness, compassion, synergy, and respect. The human experience will never be perfect, nor will your spiritual path. And healthy leaders understand perfection and control are not the goal.
Exploiting Spiritual Bypassing
You may hear phrases like “we’re all mirrors”, “you’re being triggered”, “this points to an unhealed wound”, “you’re being offered a lesson”, “don’t focus on negativity”, “we don’t need to go into the shadow - we’ve transcended that”, “focus on your higher timeline”, “this is sacred work -its not for everyone”, etc. Underneath all of it, the manipulator leverages one unspoken fear: “If you challenge me, you will lose your belonging.” And because the Sisterhood Wound (or some other community wound that you hold) already tells us “being seen isn’t safe”, we comply, collapse, or retreat - even when something feels deeply wrong on a subconscious level. Healthy leaders understand life is cyclical - we all have seasons that include challenges, lessons, and dark nights of the soul as well as beautiful seasons of abundance, flow, and ease. A good spiritual mentor is there to help guide you into sitting in your discomfort, unearthing what rises to be witnessed and healed, and helping to compassionately hold space and support you through that process.
3. Why We Turn On Ourselves Instead of Speaking Up
Here’s the deepest layer of psychology in all of this: When conflict or harm happens, we often self-betray before we challenge the group.
Why?
Attachment>Authenticity
Our nervous system is wired to protect connection first. We would rather suppress our truth than to risk rejection.
Inherited Scarcity
We’ve internalized the belief that safe, supportive, aligned communities are rare. We cling tightly to the one we have, even if it wounds us. Or, if we suffer from any kind of abandonment wound around community or “family”, this may show up in a similar fashion, as a fear and scarcity wound, if our sense of belonging is subconsciously threatened.
Trauma Conditioning
Many of us grew up in dynamics where love was conditional - so we normalize subtle forms of manipulation, exclusion, or control.
Ego + Self Protection
Sometimes we turn on ourselves instead of speaking up because our ego wants to protect us from feeling foolish. It whispers, “Don’t admit you were wrong, don’t show you were fooled.” At its root, ego is trauma-born - it once kept us safe when harm was very real. But left unchecked, integrated, and fully healed - what once protected us can now limit us. Because here’s the truth: admitting we were deceived isn’t weakness - it’s courage. Every time we choose honesty over ego, we reclaim our power, honor ourselves, and free ourselves to grow. True strength is choosing authenticity over ego, clarity over illusion, and ourselves always over any misplaced fear. Every time we do, we reclaim our own sovereign power and step into growth.
Sovereignty is the Antidote
But, while these moments were painful— they were also clarifying.
Because they exposed the trap of the Sisterhood Wound inside group spaces:
We silence ourselves to belong, then abandon ourselves in the process.
And this is wildly dangerous. And far more slippery and subtle than you might imagine.
The turning point comes when you name what is happening - inside and around you. You use your discernment and listen to your body’s whisper when something feels off or misaligned, you choose yourself and healthy boundaries, and you reclaim your sovereignty. Because these moments you experienced reveal where sovereignty begins:
not in controlling others,
not in bypassing discomfort,
but in choosing truth over belonging. Time and time again.
In recognizing that your belonging starts when you claim yourself - because your sovereignty is held within you - it is not held externally in someone else’s approval or control. True leadership, true sisterhood, true community - they never require bypassing your instincts or compromising your truth.
The gift of this ordeal is seeing, with clarity, the pattern for what it is. The Sisterhood Wound is not just your wound—it’s ours collectively. Naming it helps us stop internalizing the shame and start breaking the cycle together. It helps us to start recognizing this wound and taking action directly to heal it. And manipulation always loses its power when you step into sovereignty and clarity - because clarity cannot be controlled.
How This Wound Protects Itself
When unhealed, this wound tends to recycle through the same behaviors:
• Bypassing: Pretending harmony exists while ignoring harm.
• Betrayal: Sharing one story publicly, another behind closed doors.
• Silencing: Withdrawing connection when someone speaks a truth that’s uncomfortable.
These aren’t signs of weakness. They’re survival strategies rooted in centuries of fear.
But sovereignty asks us to pause, name them, and choose a new response.
Moving Through the Ordeal
Healing this wound isn’t about going back to how things were before. It’s about stepping into a deeper truth:
• That you don’t have to dim your light to belong.
• That your voice is not a threat—it’s medicine. And you are meant to speak it boldly.
• That healthy boundaries and clarity create more real connection, not less.
This is the work of sovereignty:
Choosing authenticity over acceptance.
Choosing discernment over illusion.
Choosing your soul’s truth even when it costs you temporary belonging.
Why Healing This Wound Matters
This isn’t just about friendship.
Healing the Sisterhood Wound is what frees your voice, ignites your leadership, and unlocks your legacy. Because if you’re still afraid to shine in front of women - or any group or community, you’ll subconsciously sabotage your own success.
Until you repair this fracture, you may:
• Resist mentorship or community.
• Avoid collaborations out of mistrust.
• Stay small to avoid being resented.
Avoid opportunities out of fear of being misunderstood.
Avoid true intimacy and connection with others.
This is not your fault. But it is yours to shift.
Re-Parenting the Sisterhood Wound
You don’t need to wait for an apology or the perfect circle to begin healing. You can become your own safe witness.
Here are a few sacred self-repair tools:
1. Name the First Memory
Close your eyes and reflect. When was the first time another girl or woman made you feel “too much”? Name her. Name the moment. And speak this aloud:
“You didn’t know how to hold my light. That wasn’t my fault. I release all judgement around this and reclaim my power.”
2. Daily Nervous System Affirmation
Say this to yourself as you prepare to speak, post, or lead:
“It’s safe to be seen. It’s safe to be powerful. I choose love over fear, truth over silence.”
3. Mirror Practice
Look yourself in the eye and say:
“I trust you to speak boldly and speak the truth. You are always safe. I have your back.”
Journal Prompts for Integration
• When have I silenced myself to keep the peace? What did that cost me?
• Who did I give my power to, and why?
Where have I traded authenticity for belonging?
• What am I most afraid will happen if I let myself shine fully?
• Where do I still crave approval or validation from others?
• What kind of sisterhood feels safe, sacred, and aligned for me now?
You are not alone in this ache. What you’ve carried is part of a much larger story - one woven through generations of women taught to compete, conform, survive, and stay small. But this is the turning point. Every time you speak your truth, choose your voice, and take up space, you break the old spell and create a new possibility for all of us.
Your Light Is a Catalyst, Not a Threat
Your voice, your vision, your visibility—they’re not betrayals of the collective. They’re medicine. They’re invitations for others to rise.
The Sisterhood Wound taught us to fear each other. It embedded this fear.
But your healing teaches you to belong to yourself—and in doing so, to also belong to others who are ready to love you without condition or control.
It’s time to befriend your own brilliance.
To boldly speak the truth.
To shine unabashedly.
To lead with integrity, radiance, and grounded humility.
Together we do this.
Not with fake and ill supported threads, but with hand and soul bounded celebration - holding and uplifting each other.
Because as one of us heals and shines, we encourage our sister next to us, to do the same.
And together, that is how we support healing and true change.
I’ve felt the sting of this wound myself - many times in my life and often wondered where its root was held. I’ve sat in many circles where I wanted so badly to belong, only to feel invisible, dismissed, or even subtly undermined. I used to think the problem was me. But over time, I realized these patterns weren’t about my worth - or even about my confidence - they were reflections of pain passed down through generations of women, pain that taught us to compete instead of trust.
The real work begins when we name it. When we remember that we are not each other’s enemies. When we choose to rise above old scripts and instead build spaces rooted in trust, encouragement, and sovereignty.
If you’ve carried this wound also, I invite you to pause and reflect: Where have I silenced myself in order to belong? And what would it feel like to stand in my own truth anyway?
Because this is how the Sisterhood Wound begins to heal - one voice, one truth, one act of courage at a time.