#soulalchemy

Source: @her.flowering

The Saturnian Freeze: Why Your "Laziness" Is Actually Unprocessed Grief

I once sat across from a client who apologized for being lazy. She had not left her bed in four days. But when I read her body like an ancient text — not the DSM, the soma — I saw no lethargy. I saw a funeral in progress.

We call it executive dysfunction. The alchemists called it nigredo: the blackening that precedes all transformation. Your "laziness" is not a character flaw. It is Saturn's freeze, the cosmic insistence that you stop producing so your grief can finally speak. In somatic terms, the body has entered a sacred stillness; the nervous system is not shut down, it is processing what the mind refused to bury properly.

Capitalism taught you that stillness is sin. But the old texts knew better: the witch who cannot rise from her bed is not cursed. She is uninitiated in her own mourning. The freeze is a psychic opening, not a closing. The energy you think you have lost is not gone — it is underground, feeding roots you cannot yet see. I mapped this exact pattern — the freeze, the grief beneath the guilt, and the ritual to thaw it — in Garden of the Mind. Forty pages of citations, somatic protocols, and the clearing ritual your spirit is waiting for. Link in bio.

https://shortlink.uk/1v84p

This is the second installment of my healing journey. The Summer of My Soul is quite passionate and thoughtful, as I accessed a higher vibration of joy during the time I wrote this poetry. These few months taught me about what love and beauty truly are, and the healing power they carry. Through these poems I realized a higher octave of healing and grace.. I hope you are able to get a taste :)

~

I carry heaven on my brow

Resting against my shoulder

Anchoring me to the ground

~

An abyss of oceans inside me 

Creates a waterhole for the animals to drink

A spring of love from my heart 

For all to partake 

~

All for the beautiful things;

All for them

They’re all I see

They’re all I hear

All I want

Always

All for the beautiful things;

Nothing can stop me

When I run for them..

~

My heart soars free

It sings; it screams

Some part of me

Is so beautiful

So beautiful

I can’t even explain –

I take a breath

And the air

Explodes inside my chest

As an expression of my beauty..

~

I promised my soul just one inch of happiness 

To complete the memory of bliss

To create something not yet in existence

With the fiber of my being

And the whispers of the wind

Entwined with the smoke of incense

Concurrent with the trees

Always accessible to me

Free.

~

Sparkles of thought tingle around my throat

speak speak whisper

Tell me a little bit more...

~

- Tuesdai

The Witch's Nervous System: Why ADHD Is an Untrained Psychic Frequency

I once sat with a client who described her ADHD as "having forty radios playing in the same room, and somehow I'm supposed to tune into only one." She had been medicated, pathologized, and told her brain was a broken clock. But when I read her nervous system like an ancient text, I saw not disorder. I saw celestial bandwidth.

We call it ADHD — attention deficit, as if attention were a currency she was failing to hoard. But the old maps knew this frequency. The witch's second sight was never a calm, focused beam. It was a flood of signal — the clairsentient who feels the room before entering it, the seer who cannot close her inner eye because it was never taught to filter. Your hyperfocus is not fixation. It is clairvoyant lock — the untrained ability to drop so completely into one astral plane that the physical world vanishes. Your sensory overwhelm is not dysfunction. It is unfiltered clairsentience — your nervous system receiving frequencies from planes you have not been initiated into.

Capitalism demands a single channel. But your brain is not a radio meant for one station. It is a witch's antenna, built to scan the astral bandwidth for signals the linear mind cannot hear. The pathology is not in your wiring. It is in the world's refusal to teach you what you are actually receiving.

Micro-ritual: The next time your attention shatters into fragments, do not force focus. Instead, attune. Name three frequencies your body is picking up right now — a color that feels too loud, a texture that holds a memory, a sound that seems to come from behind the veil. Write one sentence that arrives through the static, unedited. That sentence is not distraction. It is your uninitiated transmission.