scorpio season musings – on death, rebirth, and the medicine that lives within us
Scorpio is a placement that many people feel intimidated by. There is a certain mystery to it, a privacy that can be sensed from afar. An energy that does not reveal itself easily, that asks us to look a little deeper, to journey beyond the surface.
I personally don't have any scorpio placements in my own chart (except for my lilith), yet I've always felt a deep curiosity towards this sign. An inner pull towards the mystery, the darkness, the things that cannot be understood with the mind. The medicine of scorpio lies in its relationship with death and rebirth. In the phoenix rising from the ashes, and in the snake shedding its skin. In the uncomfortable in-between space between who we have been and who we are growing into. Scorpio reminds us that transformation is rarely a graceful nor linear process. It asks us to let something die before we can even begin to imagine what might take its place. And I feel this is a particularly feminine kind of knowing.
There is a saying that to be a woman is to know death. In the endings we experience, the identities we outgrow, the versions of ourselves we must lovingly lay to rest. Denying death is denying what it means to be a woman. Our womb is a literal embodiment of growth and decay, of ebb and flow, darkness and light, death and (re)birth. We are cyclical beings, continually moving through seasons of expansion, contraction, shedding, and renewal. And yet, how often are we encouraged to remain in perpetual bloom? To keep growing, producing, expanding, even when the voice within us is asking to come undone?
Scorpio season invites us to remember that there is medicine in the decay, too. She does not fear the dark but she blooms in it.
Also, there is something about scorpio season that feels like witch season to me. Perhaps it is the way the veil seems to thin inviting us to trust what cannot always be seen, to follow our intuition, to honour our inner knowing, and to find beauty in the things that exist beyond the realm of the explainable. I wonder if this is why so many of us women like me feel strangely at home in this season. I guess it offers us a kind of permission slip to return to the things we have been taught to dismiss as strange, irrational or crazy, yet were once deeply woven into the fabric of our nature. The rituals, cyclical wisdom, the listening to the moon, knowing that lives in our bodies long before it finds words. The parts of ourselves that generations of women were taught to hide and that we are now slowly remembering how to reclaim again. I find so much inspiration in watching nature surrender to this season, allowing the leaves to fall, the branches to bare themselves and what has completed its cycle to return to the earth. There is no resistance in this shedding and no desperate attempt to hold on to what has already served its purpose. There is only this knowing and this trust that the decay is part of the jourdney and that the earth must be allowed to empty itself before it can rise again. So just as the earth retreats into herself, we too are invited to turn inward.
This season invites us to uncover deep secrets, taboo themes, uncomfortable truths and meet the fears we have surpresse. It asks us to journey into the depths of our vast living being, our inner undiscovered waters, and gently turn towards the parts of ourselves we would rather keep hidden.
In an age of social media, constant validation, and ego boosts on demand, so much of our attention is directed outward. We seek for reassurance in the eyes of others, for answers in the endless stream of content, for something to numb the discomfort of not knowing. Of being in the void. When we feel self-conscious, insecure or confronted by an emotion we don't know how to hold, it is tempting to push it further down and reach for our phones instead and to distract ourselves from what is asking to be felt, witnessed, and tended to. We have become so accustomed to looking outside of ourselves that we sometimes forget there is an entire ocean within.
And while the darkness may sound daunting, there is endless potential in learning to sit with it, and to discover what might be transformed when we stop resisting what is already within.
I've come to understand that some of the most heart-wrenching and uncomfortable moments of my life, the moments in which I was forced to shed a skin I had long outgrown, have also been the most profoundly life-altering. In the aftermath of what I thought would break me, I found parts of myself I had not known how to reach before. This may sound weird, but this is why scorpio season feels a little like coming home for me. It is when we enter the void, when we dare to practise radical self-honesty, that we begin to reclaim the power we once gave away. We begin to alchemise what we have carried in silence into something that can nourish our selves.
This is where medicine is brought into being.
My own purpose and with it the seeds of this brand, were born during one of the most difficult times of my life. A time in which I felt heartbroken, hopeless, and profoundly alone. And still in the depths of that pain, I also rediscovered a well of inspiration. I felt ignited. I felt alive. Looking back today, I can see how much wisdom was actually materialising in that dark season of my life. How another thread was being woven into the tapestry of the bigger web, even when I could not yet understand it.
I don't believe we need to romanticise our pain or turn every wound into a lesson. Some things simply hurt and some things take time. Not every ending comes with an immediate understanding of why it had to happen or needs to be shared with the world. But I do believe there is something deeply powerful about the way we meet ourselves in these moments and about the willingness to stay close to what is true, even when the truth is uncomfortable. Our medicine is not found in having the answers or learning more skills but is found in learning to listen again.
I have a feeling this year has been profound for many of us, and that this scorpio season will invite us even deeper into our innermost selves. But my love, there is no need to be afraid. There is endless wisdom waiting in the places we have learned to avoid, beneath the constant stimuli, the external noise, the distractions, the expectations, and the endless seeking outside of ourselves.. there is an inner voice that has been longing for us to return.
There is no better time to sit in the void and to let what is old and decayed dissolve without demanding that something new take its place straight away. To resist the urge to name what comes next, to figure it all out, to turn the unknown into another thing to master. What if, for now, we are simply being asked to marinate in the in-between? In the liminal space?
I genuinely believe it is here, in this space of not knowing, that we begin to remember who we are beneath all the layers, the identities we have accumulated, the expectations we have internalised, the versions of ourselves we have learned to perform to belong. It is here that we reconnect with our inner medicine, and where we cultivate the self-trust that does not require constant reassurance from the outside world to exist and flourish. The kind of self-trust that is cultivated tenderly, and through presence and a willingness to remain in relationship with ourselves, even when the path ahead is blurry.
And this is the very essence of "Devotion to Medicine".
"Devotion to your Medicine" is space we will enter together beneath the depth of scorpio season. A container for going inward, for meeting ourselves with radical honesty and tenderness, for asking the questions we have been avoiding, and for allowing ourselves to receive what arises in the void, in the fertile nothingness.
Allow this to be a gentle invitation to step away from any external distractions and to return to the truth that has been living within us all along. The most sustainable power grows from the relationship we lovingly and patiently cultivate with ourselves and with the language of our bodies. It grows in the liminal moments when we choose to turn towards ourselves instead of away. This is where the magic lives 𓆸𓏲
Our first gathering takes place on October 25th, beneath the upcoming full moon. There are only a few spots left, and I would love to welcome you into the circle. So if you feel the pull to turn inward, to create space for what has been asking for your attention, and to re
connect with the wisdom that lives beneath the surface, consider this your invitation.
Will you join us in devotion to your own medicine?
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