The Death Light has been something of a theme for me in the last couple of months. It can be metaphorical or existential—working on a will, thinking about changing our life paths, or considering the legacy we want to leave after we’re gone. But sometimes it’s literal. We witness death, face a serious illness, or someone close to us has died. This last month, one of the ways Death came to my door was for my little orange fox dog Finnegan.

During the August full moon, we are working with a double light: the intensity of the summer sun and the peak of the moon’s illumination. If our inner sea monsters are coming to the surface now, let’s greet them with kindness and listen for what they may have to teach us, rather than trying to force them back down into the dark. This doesn’t have to be a struggle. We can allow this time of stirring up to be medicinal.

Meditation should feel like a little bit of time that’s carved out just for you. It could be for five minutes. It could be sitting on a soft couch with your cat on your lap. It could be laying down. It could be guided by someone else’s recorded voice. It could be a practice of imagining, daydreaming, prayer, or connection with a deity or spirit guide.

Greet your inner sea monster as you embrace the spiritual meaning of the Sturgeon Moon.

Each month’s full moon has a special name that represents something about the natural world and the energy of that time. The Sturgeon Moon is the Algonquian name for the full moon in August, when the sturgeon were easiest to catch in the Great Lakes. Other traditions named this month’s moon the Full Red Moon, for the late summery haze that can tinge the moon red, and the Corn or Grain Moon, as this is a time to start gathering the late summer harvest in preparation for the fall.

I’m having one of those weeks that I know many of you have had (or are having right now), where, due to no choice of my own, I’m hanging out in the Upside Down. It’s not my first time here, and I know by now that struggling and fighting it isn’t going to get me out of the tree any faster. I know I have to surrender to it. To breathe through my feelings. To trust that I won’t be stuck here forever. Even if I really don’t want to do any of that.

Feeling wilted in the middle of summer? Channel the spiritual energy of thunderstorms and heat with July’s Thunder Moon.

The Western Abenaki have named July’s full moon the Thunder Moon due to the likelihood of thunderstorms around this time. The Anishinaabe call it the Halfway Summer Moon, which places it right in the middle of the summer as it tends to be felt, rather than according to the seasons or the solstice. Several traditions also call it the Full Buck Moon, referring to the time when the male deer are showing off their impressive antlers.

June’s full moon is commonly called the Strawberry Moon, a name that originated with the Lakota, Ojibwa, and Algonquin peoples. The Haida name for this month’s moon is the Berries Ripen Moon.

Of course, this refers to the fact that many berries begin to ripen in June. It’s a time not only of blossoming and ripening but of animal babies being born. It’s also the month that contains the summer solstice (on June 21st) and the shift into a new season.

Self love is, essentially, the opposite of shame. When we behave in alignment with the idea that we are worth loving as we are, we in alignment with the idea that there’s nothing wrong with us, that we deserve, for example, healthy food, enough sleep, and pleasurable experiences. For some of us, that causes a kind of rebound effect where we end up falling back into self-punishment and in our familiar old hole of shame.

I have been a major nightmare-haver since I can remember. When I was about four, I used to try not to fall asleep at night because I was so afraid of my dreams. They were intense and disturbing, often gory, about things no four-year-old should be thinking about. I’m not sure where I got the information about world wars, tsunamis, and general apocalypses, but I saw them a lot in my dreams. I still get nightmares pretty often, but they don’t bother me as much as they used to. Here are a few things that have helped.

When the Moon tarot card comes up (especially in the Dreamkeeper’s deck, above), I am also called to ask about grief. For me, this image is about waiting, about being in that twilight place in a long embrace with the past. What losses have I not fully processed? If I allow myself to change in the ways that I really want to, in the ways that I am really excited about, what will I have to let go of?

Energetically, a blood moon is an incredibly powerful time to set intentions, to release negative energy, and to try the practice of making moon water.

Women and people with female anatomy and/or hormones are said to suffer from chronic gut issues like IBS and Crohn’s disease more often than men This is partly physiological, but the more researchers look into these chronic conditions, the clearer it becomes that the nervous system and the gut-brain connection play a major role. Some of us have learned to swallow our emotions rather than express them. To stuff down our needs rather than insist they get met. Many of us (including me) have a history of disordered eating. It makes sense: we’re trying to digest way more than food.

Occasional gut issues like constipation, diarrhea, bloating, and gas are really, really common. Part of this is due to stress. And for the 10 to 20 percent of people out there who have IBS, it can be related to a misfire in the intimate relationship between the brain and the gut.

When your gut is unhappy, there are a few things you can do to help it calm down and get back on track. And there are more things you can do to avoid your gut turning sour in the first place.

Winter is a time of hibernation for many plants and animals, including humans. We may still be getting up and going to work, but we may find that we’re a little slower, a little more tired. We may lack the energy to start new projects or really get things moving until we start to feel that spring fire kindling within us again. Here is a ritual we can use to help tap into this thawing and igniting energy of the full Pink Moon of April.

April’s full moon has a traditional name given to it by indigenous peoples that would count time by the moons: the Full Pink Moon. It is named after the pink phlox that would cover the ground in April, indicating the first flowers of the spring season.

When we are seeking spiritual guidance, it’s usually because we are hurting. Something is missing within us, and we need support and reassurance we can’t get in our day to lives. We can feel that there’s something else out there, and we want to connect to it. That need makes us vulnerable. And a lot of people like to take advantage of vulnerability. 

For many people with IBS, especially people with childhood trauma, one of the strategies we’ve used to survive what is happening in our lives is to try to digest too much: to take on other people’s energy, to swallow our own feelings, to eat our needs and boundaries so we can get through the day.

After healing from sexual assault, sex has to change. Whatever our experience of sex before the assault and however it has affected our lives, sex can never be the same again. Here’s the good news: it can be way better.

March’s full moon is called the Worm Moon, likely referring to the movement under the earth that begins in the early spring in the Northern Hemisphere. It’s a time when the ground is melting, the frozen earth is beginning to give way, and the worms begin to wriggle and move beneath the ground.

Though the drooping head and lost color of a flower might look like death, there is wisdom in its wilt. There is wisdom in pausing when we are going through something hard. Slowing down, as if our internal energies are hibernating. Just because we’re not “doing” something doesn’t always mean nothing is happening. That flower was able to come back to life again when the sun returned not despite but because it had the wisdom to wilt. This is true for us, too.