The Patterns Are Still Reweaving

Dancing with Chaos

Rituals—not the kind that have reified into dogma—but practices emergent through collaboration with nature, ancestors, and Spirit—create a spacetime where we may both acknowledge disruptions and remember that we can begin again, and, that there is grace still, after disruptions. In the time and space created by rituals, it is easier to face the unknown and to know, too, that we have the courage and resources—within and together and without—to rebuild. Rituals, when done with fierceness in the heart and with intention, can reveal pathways of intuition and wise action.

The impact of the fires in greater Los Angeles has been and continues to be colossal. They have led to upset, destruction, and change, shattering and dislocating both more-than-human and human communities. Witnessing them has engendered immense disorientation—in part because we are innately connected to each other, and, in part because they seem to be a presage of what’s coming.

The program where I teach recently had a residential session, and, when I was tuning into what might bring a small measure of comfort and grounding to the community, a simple altar/ritual came through. I would like to offer it here in case you would like to do this with your community/-ies. The practice can be done singly or with others.

To begin, build a water altar. Build it simply—as below—or with as much detail, inventiveness, and intricacy as you are called to:

Place a bowl of water in the center of a circle. Create a ring of salt around the bowl.

At the water altar:

Take a moment to breathe and center yourself.

Place a hand on your heart.

Sense into what your heart holds—what your body holds—what is moving through.

It could be grief, sadness, anxiety, fear.

It could be a wish, a prayer, for balance, healing, love, peace, grace.

Take a pinch of salt, and offer what you have been holding—what is moving through—to the water with the salt. Do this again if necessary.

Take a moment to become aware of what’s within you now—sensations, images, messages, emotions, words. Thank it, thank the waters.

Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

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When one of my grad students told me recently that she appreciated my Substack, I found myself reacting instinctively with a flinch—and, through this reaction, my nervous system let me know instantaneously that I was in perfectionism’s grip. A dour face it wears, and discounts all your work and progress and success! It’s a lie, this time it whispered, you’re not so cool after all since you have not been writing every day.

Even as I’ve since had words—not with perfectionism exactement but with myself—loving words—reminding myself that my brain benefits from celebrating my own small wins, and, that unless I give myself credence for all the ways in which I show up for myself and my commitments every day, cultivating gentle persistence, and return to the work with determination again and again, no one else will!—maybe you too want to remind yourself of all the ways in which you show up, carving exits from stories written by capitalism and trauma/survival modes.

The road may be long, but look how far we’ve come.

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Here are two upcoming spring events where I’m looking forward to meeting other scholars, artists, and practitioners and exchanging gifts of ideas and learning:

From March 27-29, I will be at “Sacred Stories of the Sentient Earth: Scholarship for Collaboration, Intervention, Reciprocity,” the 2025 International Conference for the Association for the Study of Women and Mythology, to present a paper on decolonial and indigenous dialogues on technology. The opening reception will be followed by Seasons of the Witch, a poetry reading in honor of Patricia Monaghan, which I am also helping organize.

On April 5, I will present “The Borderlands Epistemology of the Goddess in South Asia: Encounters by Contemporary Writers and Artists” at The Once and Future Goddesses, a gathering sponsored by the OPUS Archives and Research Center and held at the Pacifica Graduate Institute’s Lambert campus.

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If you would like to join us, I have an upcoming class—The Secret Heart of Dreams.