Tag: moon

Day Eight: Pants Optional

July 21st, 2025

Moon Phase: 🌗 Third Quarter
Moon in: Taurus ♉︎ – rooting down, recalibrating, and low-key insisting on comfort over chaos

I began the day with my familiar morning trifecta: smudge, prayer, Theo. Then I sat down with a salad and the sobering realization that I was down to my last pair of leave the house pants. A clear sign: laundry needed to happen. Naturally, I didn’t start it.

Instead, I retreated to my safe place and opened up a pile of paperwork that’s been whispering my name. Productivity, yes—but make it pantless.

I wasn’t feeling as lit up as I had been the past few days. Something was off—muted motivation, sluggish energy. Before I could spiral into full blown daybed mode, my Fitbit nudged me and my stomach begged for a mid-morning snack.

So, I took a walk to Starbucks for some egg bites and black tea. I save the problematic coffee for feast days, lesson learned. I sat in the lobby, slowly eating my second breakfast while listening to the baristas solve the world’s problems with volume and confidence only youth can provide.

The walk back was lovely. The weather was perfect, like an open invitation to keep walking. But something in me—something deep and nagging—just wanted to go home and not for the laundry.

Instead of diving into the gravitational pull of my PS5, I threw on karaoke and gave myself an hour to just sing. Really sing. It felt amazing—my lungs felt open, my voice felt powerful again. It’s been a long time since I’ve had that clarity, after years of inflammation and chemical-laden convenience foods muting me. Anti-human food, the kind that wants to outlast the humans it’s meant to nourish. But with each lap in the pool and each day without processed poison, my voice is finding its way back—clearer, stronger, no longer buried beneath the fog.

After that, the rest of the day was games and laughter with friends. In my last clean pair of out-in-public pants. The ones that deserve a parade for their service.

I didn’t overdo it with food—but I didn’t exactly stay inside the lines either. Convenience won again, which meant higher sodium and carbs than planned. But I stayed in ketosis, so I’m giving myself grace. Progress, not perfection. Rhythm, not rigidity.

Goodnight Moon. 🌗
Day Seven: Glow Beneath the Surface

July 19th, 2025

Moon Phase: 🌗 Third Quarter
Moon in: Taurus ♉︎ – rooting me in routine, reminding me that nourishment is a ritual, not a reward

Woke up with my mains. My cat. My clarity. My calm. Took some time to write before heading to the pool—my sanctuary in motion. To my delight, I had the whole place to myself. The overhead lights were off, and only the soft underwater glow lit the space. It felt like a moonlit swim—quiet, glowing, ethereal. Less YMCA, more underwater chapel.

My routine moved so smoothly I was sure I’d skipped something. But I hadn’t. I had just entered flow state before my body even hit the water. Fasting has a way of syncing me with something deeper—like slipping into gear I didn’t even know was available.

Today was a fast day, part of my days 1–10 rhythm. These are my heavy hitters—36 to 38 hours of fasting. On my eating days, I open my window two hours after sunup and close it by 6 or 7pm, staying under 50g of carbs to slide into ketosis. Dr. Mindy Pelz, author of ‘Fast Like a Girl’ calls this Keto biotic.

Soon I’ll enter Days 11–15, where I shift into lighter fasting and raise my carbs to around 100g— by adding fruit and whole grains. It’s a treat every time. I fast daily, but I bring it down to 15-18 hours a day here. I’ll maintain my exercise routine of swimming and walking. My body loves this phase.

Then comes my anchor: Days 16–19, when the moon moves into Virgo. That’s when I do a full 72-hour fast. At first it was for spiritual reasons—to get quiet enough to hear Creator—but I’ve since learned this timing also coincides with a full immune system reset. Divine timing, divine science.

And finally, Days 20–28. I don’t bleed anymore, but I honor the rhythm. I eat with the sun and rest with intention—no fasting, no heavy lifting, just slow and nourishing days to support what would be my luteal phase. Progesterone pampering. Rhythm over restriction. I try to get 150g of healthy carbohydrates during this phase.

This whole system? It isn’t a diet. It’s not about willpower or punishment. It’s a return. A re-connection to cycles older than my cravings. I’m not just feeding a body—I’m tending to a system, syncing to the sky. As above, so below.

Wrapped the evening in leisure, chatting with friends. Some good games and better laughs made the perfect closing ceremony. Crawled into bed very early, satisfied and spent in all the right ways.

Goodnight moon. 🌗
Day Six: Snow White and the 7 Extra Ounces of Beef Jerky

July 18th, 2025

Moon Phase: 🌖Disseminating
Moon in: Aries ♈︎ – bold, direct, and hungry for experience

The morning started out typically enough—until it wasn’t.

My ketones were at 2.4. I blinked at the screen like it owed me an explanation. I’ve been wrestling with insulin resistance for a while, and I honestly didn’t expect to see numbers like that until at least my second or third cycle. Something’s shifted. I haven’t put my finger on it yet, but I can feel it. My system is responding, and it’s responding fast. And that… excites me.

I had to dive back into consumer hell (Walmart) to stock up on a few basics: salads, eggs, cottage cheese, and a bag of beef jerky to carry me through the end of this keto-biotic phase. But when I stepped back outside? The air was too perfect to go home.

So I drove to the Falls and took my breakfast with me. I sat on a giant flat stone, cracked open my salad, and let the roar of the water pull my shoulders down from my ears. Just as I was settling in, two tiny ground squirrels approached, all twitchy curiosity. I tore a piece of lettuce and laid it about two feet away from me—offering peace, in leaf form. They were hesitant, darting back with every move I made. Finally, I whispered, “It’s okay. I’m not gonna get you.” And I swear to the moon—they understood.

They scampered up and started munching. Before I knew it, two squirrels became four. I shared what I could. One even came close to climbing in my lap—until a bird overhead gave a sharp alarm and the whole crew vanished in a blink. The moment was over, but I was glowing.

After tossing my trash, I headed home to do a little writing. Once that was done, I gave myself permission for some leisure with my PlayStation buddies. Then came the hunger. I reached for the beef jerky and thought, I’ll just have a little. Famous last words. One ounce turned into ten before I even felt the full pull of the compulsion. So that’s the new rule: jerky gets pre-portioned at purchase. Lesson logged—literally.

I skipped my kraut and dogs and instead leaned into something that always brings me back: music. My instrument area still isn’t set up, but my voice? My voice is always ready. I gave myself 35 solid minutes of karaoke therapy—belted out every emotion until I was breathless and brighter. I swear it’s medicine.

Then came the nap. Is this becoming part of my rhythm? Have I officially crossed the line from Maiden into Crone, or is this simply my body doing overtime to undo the damage I’ve done? Either way, I surrendered to it—and woke up feeling like a rebooted version of myself.

Dinner was pure convenience: two softshell tacos and an unsweetened iced tea on the way to the ballpark. Tonight was my son’s last game for the week, and the evening air was just… perfect.

Later, my friend met me at home to drop off some speakers I’d left in her vehicle following our naming ceremony a couple weeks back. She came bearing more gifts—beautiful beadwork from the powwow she had just attended, offerings for my children. They are so loved. So spoiled—but never rotten. Spoiled grateful. Like me with this day. Spoiled grateful.

Goodnight moon🌖
Day Three: Front Row Seating & Impromptu Saunas

July 15th, 2025

Moon Phase: 🌖 Disseminating Moon
Moon in: Pisces ♓︎ – swimming through stories, surrender, and spirit

I began the day with a smudge and a prayer, then served breakfast and a clean throne for His Highness Theo. (The royal litter duties are never done.) Afterward, I left the house—left the house!—for my morning swim. It was a good one. I hit that elusive flow state where thoughts stop chasing their tails and the water becomes both silence and song.

Post-swim, I took a breath, gathered myself, and headed out to spend time with one of my dearest friends. She and her partner just bought a new-old-old house—so old it has drawers by the front door for your pistols, maids’ quarters, and a staircase clearly meant for dramatic descents in silk robes. The air conditioning was out, so the tour became a surprise sauna session. (I didn’t ask for a sweat lodge, but the ancestors provided.)

Still, no antique doorknob or grand staircase holds a candle to the joy of catching up with a friend whose life story is better than any fiction I could scroll through. I have a few of these friends. People whose lives feel like books I don’t want to put down. And I want to keep showing up for every chapter.

After the visit, I melted into bed. The swim, the heat, and the fasting had wrung me out. And that nap? Divine. Necessary.

When I woke up, stomach rumbling, I picked up my PS5 controller to distract myself. Before I could dive into my game, I got a party invite from another good friend—this one a newer connection, still unfolding, currently in its treacherous chapters. And still… they invited me in. That vulnerability is no small thing.

So I showed up. I listened. I offered what I could from my hollow-bone heart.
We talked late into the night. I blinked and suddenly I was propping my eyes open. I missed my blog check-in. I missed the backend of my rhythm.

But I’m not dragging myself about it.

This isn’t some diet-y self-shaming spiral.
This is grace.
Real grace—with intentions rooted in health, not permission for collapse.

The Disseminating Moon is the phase right after full—still bright, but dimming. It’s about sharing what you’ve learned, offering insights, storytelling. Pisces rules dreams, emotions, compassion, and intuition. This isn’t a time to push—it’s a time to float. To listen. To hold space.

Seems like the moon knew what kind of day I needed better than I did.

Goodni…Zzz… Moo…ZZzzzZZ
Day One: A Cycle Begins, A Portal Opens

July 12th, 2025

Moon Phase: 🌕 Full
Moon in: Aquarius ♒︎ — guiding me to zoom out, breathe deeper, and think bigger.

I was awakened by the birds singing their morning songs.

I dragged my sacred behind into the pool and baptized myself in chlorine and ambition before consciousness dared contest. The water felt like a womb—warm, weightless, and forgiving. A sacred place where gravity lets go and the body remembers what flow means.

It was not just exercise— it was an exorcism.

I’m fasting—not just from food, but from distraction, from the numbing. From the glow of the drive-thru menu board that beckons, “Just one more time…”. I’m stepping away from the ritual of unwrapping shame delivered in heavily branded paper bags. I’ve disengaged the autopilot that steers me directly into the comfortable prison I built myself. I’m surrendering to a new authority, one that remembers what nourishment is.

I smudge… I pray… I consider my place within the Universe… I fill the bottom of my lungs.

The moon is in Aquarius tonight—a sign of rebellion, truth, and future-self freedom.
Fitting, really, since I’ve been negotiating peace talks between several versions of myself that usually start bickering around 3 p.m.—when the cravings creep in. There’s Past-Me. Past-Me copes with Taco Bell. There’s Present-Me, who writes in sacred hunger. And there’s Future-Me, who somehow has the energy to wash and fold on the same day.
They share one body but have wildly different priorities.

Under this Aquarius moon, for once, they’re all looking in the same direction: forward.

This blog is my mirror—my breadcrumb trail back to myself. A confessional wrapped in sacred humor and sweatpants. Made up of flashes of science, spiritual chaos, awkward wit, and unfiltered vulnerability.

I’m not mapping the path—I’m just walking it out loud.

Each post will follow the rhythm of the moon, because her pull feels more honest than any number ever did.

I’m not chasing control—I’m chasing connection.

With my body. With time. With something ancient and steady.

Not to be good, but to be whole.

Not to be perfect, but to be here.

Goodbye cravings,
Goodbye shame,
Goodnight Moon 🌕

Tag: moon

Day Eight: Pants Optional

Day Seven: Glow Beneath the Surface

Day Six: Snow White and the 7 Extra Ounces of Beef Jerky

Day Three: Front Row Seating & Impromptu Saunas

Day One: A Cycle Begins, A Portal Opens