By Jen Watts
As I write to you in these deepening October days, I'm watching the trees outside my window engage in their annual ritual of letting go. Each leaf releases its hold, surrendering to the pull of gravity and the wisdom of seasons. There's no resistance, no clinging to what was. Just a graceful descent, a willing participation in the great cycle of death and rebirth.
I find myself thinking about that word – death. How it frightens us. How our culture teaches us to avoid it, deny it, push it away. And yet, death is not an ending but a transformation. Every ending contains within it the seed of a new beginning. Every letting go creates space for something new to emerge.
We are in the season of shedding now, dear ones. Not just in the natural world around us, but in our personal lives and in our collective experience. If you're feeling the pull to release what no longer serves you, if you're sensing that old ways of being are ready to fall away, if you're experiencing the discomfort of structures crumbling – you're not alone. You're in tune with the wisdom of the season.
And if this feels frightening or sad or overwhelming, know that this too is part of the sacred cycle. The phoenix must burn before it can rise.
The Wheel Turns: Honoring the Season of Shedding
In the ancient wheel of the year, we are moving through the time when the veil between worlds grows thin, when the earth herself demonstrates the necessity of release. The trees don't mourn their leaves – they trust the cycle. They know that this shedding is not loss but preparation for renewal.
What the trees teach us is profound: transformation requires surrender.
Right now, in our world, we are witnessing shedding on a massive scale. Systems that no longer serve are beginning to crumble. Illusions are being stripped away. The comfortable narratives we told ourselves about who we are as a society are falling like autumn leaves, revealing the bare truth of what lies beneath.
This is uncomfortable. It's painful. For many of us, it feels more personal and real than ever before – the recognition that change is not optional, that transformation is not just a spiritual concept but a lived reality unfolding in our communities, our country, our world.
And yet, dear ones, what if this shedding – as frightening as it feels – is exactly what must happen for something truer, more beautiful, more aligned with love to emerge?
The Three Sacred Phases of Transformation
Recently, in our women's circle, we explored the complete cycle of transformation through a series of ceremonies that moved me deeply. I want to share this journey with you, because I believe it offers a map for navigating not just our personal transformations, but the collective metamorphosis we're all experiencing.
Phase One: The Sacred Shedding
We began by asking ourselves: What is ready to be released? What beliefs, fears, patterns, or ways of being no longer serve the person I'm becoming?
Each woman wrote her answers on small pieces of paper – those private burdens we carry, those inherited fears we've never questioned, those self-limiting beliefs that have kept us small. One by one, we spoke our sheddings aloud to the circle. The act of naming what we were releasing gave it form, acknowledged its presence in our lives, and prepared us to let it go.
Then came the ceremony of dissolution. Each woman placed her paper in a bowl of water, watching as the ink dissolved, as the words disappeared, as the weight she'd been carrying literally dissolved before her eyes. All of us felt the power of conscious, witnessed release.
I invite you to create your own shedding ceremony:
Find a quiet moment and ask yourself: What am I ready to release? Write down everything that comes to mind:
Write each one on a separate small piece of paper. Speak them aloud – to yourself, to a trusted friend, to the universe. Then choose your method of release:
The method matters less than the intention: you are consciously choosing to let go.
Phase Two: The Liminal Space – Dwelling in the Sacred Dark
After the ceremony of release, we sat in silence. This was intentional – a recognition that between what was and what will be lies a space of unknowing. The liminal space. The void. The darkness.
Our culture has no patience for this phase. We're taught to move quickly from ending to new beginning, to fill every empty space, to have a plan before we've even fully let go of what came before. We're conditioned to fear the void, to see it as emptiness rather than potential, as loss rather than gestation.
But transformation doesn't work that way. Between the caterpillar and the butterfly lies the chrysalis – a time of apparent darkness when everything that was dissolves into formless potential. The caterpillar doesn't emerge from the cocoon with a plan. It surrenders completely to the mystery of becoming.
This liminal space is where the real magic happens. It's where old forms break down completely, where we release our grip on who we thought we were, where we become receptive to entirely new possibilities. It's uncomfortable because we have nothing to hold onto, no map to follow, no guarantee of what will emerge.
And it's sacred precisely because of this unknowing.
In our circle, we honored this space by simply being with the discomfort. We didn't rush to fill the silence with plans or new intentions. We allowed ourselves to rest in the fertile dark, trusting that transformation was happening even though we couldn't see it.
How to honor your own liminal space:
If you're in a period of transition – whether you chose it or it chose you – resist the urge to rush through to what's next. Instead:
Phase Three: The Rebirth – Speaking Your Becoming
After dwelling in the darkness, our circle moved into the phase of emergence. But this wasn't about setting goals or making plans. It was about sensing into the essence of who we are becoming and giving it form through symbol and voice.
Each woman brought or chose an object – an image, a symbol, a crystal, a photograph, a piece of art – that represented what she is bringing forth into the world. Not what she's trying to become, but what she's allowing to emerge from her deepest self.
One by one, we spoke to the circle, holding our objects, sharing what they represented about our becoming. There was recognition, and profound witnessing. We weren't performing or proving anything – we were allowing the circle to see and reflect back the truth of who we are at our core.
What moved me most was how different each woman's becoming looked. No two journeys were the same. No two expressions of self were alike. This is the beauty of transformation – it doesn't make us more similar. It makes us more authentically, radiantly ourselves.
Your rebirth ceremony:
When you've honored the shedding and spent time in the liminal space, you'll feel a natural stirring toward emergence. You'll sense something wanting to be born through you. Honor this with your own ceremony:
The Global Transformation: Finding Hope in the Fire
What we're experiencing in our personal lives mirrors what's happening collectively. Our country, our world, is in a profound process of transformation. Old systems are crumbling. Illusions are being shattered. What we thought was solid is revealing itself as unstable.
This is frightening. It's messy. It's painful to watch and painful to experience.
And it's also necessary.
The structures that are crumbling were never designed to serve everyone. The systems that are falling apart were built on foundations of inequality and exploitation. The comfortable narratives that are being challenged were always incomplete truths.
For true transformation to happen – for something more beautiful, more just, more aligned with our highest values to emerge – the old forms must fall away completely. We must move through the fire. We must endure the liminal space of not knowing what comes next.
This doesn't make it less scary. But it might make it more bearable if we can recognize it as part of a sacred cycle of death and rebirth rather than as meaningless destruction.
Like the phoenix rising from the ashes, the fire is needed for the rising. The burning away of what no longer serves creates the conditions for something magnificent to emerge.
The Phoenix Rising: Your Transformation is Sacred
The phoenix is perhaps our most powerful symbol of transformation. This mythical bird doesn't simply survive the fire – it requires the fire. It builds its own funeral pyre, sets itself aflame, burns completely to ash, and then rises renewed, reborn, more magnificent than before.
The key insight: the phoenix doesn't fear the fire. It knows the fire is necessary. It participates willingly in its own death because it trusts completely in its rebirth.
You are the phoenix, dear ones. We all are. And right now, many of us are in the fire.
Some of us are in the phase of shedding, feeling everything we thought we knew falling away. Some of us are in the liminal space, sitting in the ashes, not yet seeing any sign of what's coming. Some of us are in the early stages of emergence, sensing new wings forming but not yet ready to fly.
Wherever you are in the cycle, trust it. Your transformation is unfolding exactly as it needs to. The discomfort, the uncertainty, the fear – these aren't signs that something is wrong. They're signs that something profound is happening.
Timing Your Transformation
Remember that transformation is not linear. You may move through these phases at different speeds, or cycle through them multiple times. Some aspects of your life may be in shedding while others are in rebirth. This is natural.
Signs you're in Shedding:
A Note on Collective Transformation
As I write this, our country and world are in profound transformation. We're in the messy middle – past the point of no return to what was, but not yet clear about what will be. This is the liminal space on a collective scale.
It's uncomfortable. It's scary. Many of us feel helpless as we watch structures crumble and uncertainty reign.
But remember the phoenix. Remember Kali. Remember that transformation always looks like destruction in the middle. The caterpillar doesn't know it's becoming a butterfly when everything it knew dissolves in the chrysalis.
What if this collective chaos is exactly what needs to happen for something more beautiful to emerge? What if the systems that are crumbling needed to fall? What if the illusions that are being shattered were always blocking our view of truth?
I'm not suggesting we be passive in the face of injustice or suffering. Rather, I'm inviting us to approach this collective transformation with the same wisdom we bring to personal transformation:
We are all phoenixes in the fire together. Your light matters. Your transformation matters. Your willingness to burn and rise again matters.
An Invitation to Sacred Becoming
Dear ones, wherever you are in your transformation journey, know that you are held by the wisdom of the seasons, supported by the cycles that have repeated since the beginning of time, and guided by forces larger than you can see.
The shedding you're experiencing is making space for something more true.
The liminal darkness you're navigating is gestating something more beautiful.
The rebirth you're stepping into is calling forth something more authentic.
Trust the fire. Honor the ashes. Know that you will rise.
May you have courage for the shedding.
May you have patience for the liminal space.
May you have joy in your becoming.
And may you remember always that your transformation is sacred, necessary, and exactly what the world needs.
With fierce love and unwavering faith in your phoenix heart,
Jen
As I write to you in these deepening October days, I'm watching the trees outside my window engage in their annual ritual of letting go. Each leaf releases its hold, surrendering to the pull of gravity and the wisdom of seasons. There's no resistance, no clinging to what was. Just a graceful descent, a willing participation in the great cycle of death and rebirth.
I find myself thinking about that word – death. How it frightens us. How our culture teaches us to avoid it, deny it, push it away. And yet, death is not an ending but a transformation. Every ending contains within it the seed of a new beginning. Every letting go creates space for something new to emerge.
We are in the season of shedding now, dear ones. Not just in the natural world around us, but in our personal lives and in our collective experience. If you're feeling the pull to release what no longer serves you, if you're sensing that old ways of being are ready to fall away, if you're experiencing the discomfort of structures crumbling – you're not alone. You're in tune with the wisdom of the season.
And if this feels frightening or sad or overwhelming, know that this too is part of the sacred cycle. The phoenix must burn before it can rise.
The Wheel Turns: Honoring the Season of Shedding
In the ancient wheel of the year, we are moving through the time when the veil between worlds grows thin, when the earth herself demonstrates the necessity of release. The trees don't mourn their leaves – they trust the cycle. They know that this shedding is not loss but preparation for renewal.
What the trees teach us is profound: transformation requires surrender.
Right now, in our world, we are witnessing shedding on a massive scale. Systems that no longer serve are beginning to crumble. Illusions are being stripped away. The comfortable narratives we told ourselves about who we are as a society are falling like autumn leaves, revealing the bare truth of what lies beneath.
This is uncomfortable. It's painful. For many of us, it feels more personal and real than ever before – the recognition that change is not optional, that transformation is not just a spiritual concept but a lived reality unfolding in our communities, our country, our world.
And yet, dear ones, what if this shedding – as frightening as it feels – is exactly what must happen for something truer, more beautiful, more aligned with love to emerge?
The Three Sacred Phases of Transformation
Recently, in our women's circle, we explored the complete cycle of transformation through a series of ceremonies that moved me deeply. I want to share this journey with you, because I believe it offers a map for navigating not just our personal transformations, but the collective metamorphosis we're all experiencing.
Phase One: The Sacred Shedding
We began by asking ourselves: What is ready to be released? What beliefs, fears, patterns, or ways of being no longer serve the person I'm becoming?
Each woman wrote her answers on small pieces of paper – those private burdens we carry, those inherited fears we've never questioned, those self-limiting beliefs that have kept us small. One by one, we spoke our sheddings aloud to the circle. The act of naming what we were releasing gave it form, acknowledged its presence in our lives, and prepared us to let it go.
Then came the ceremony of dissolution. Each woman placed her paper in a bowl of water, watching as the ink dissolved, as the words disappeared, as the weight she'd been carrying literally dissolved before her eyes. All of us felt the power of conscious, witnessed release.
I invite you to create your own shedding ceremony:
Find a quiet moment and ask yourself: What am I ready to release? Write down everything that comes to mind:
- Fears that keep you playing small
- Beliefs about yourself that no longer fit who you're becoming
- Patterns of behavior that drain your energy
- Relationships or situations that have become toxic
- Old identities that feel like costumes you've outgrown
- Stories about your limitations or unworthiness
Write each one on a separate small piece of paper. Speak them aloud – to yourself, to a trusted friend, to the universe. Then choose your method of release:
- Dissolve them in water, watching them disappear
- Burn them safely, imagining the smoke carrying them away
- Bury them in the earth, composting them into fertile soil
- Tear them up and scatter them to the wind
The method matters less than the intention: you are consciously choosing to let go.
Phase Two: The Liminal Space – Dwelling in the Sacred Dark
After the ceremony of release, we sat in silence. This was intentional – a recognition that between what was and what will be lies a space of unknowing. The liminal space. The void. The darkness.
Our culture has no patience for this phase. We're taught to move quickly from ending to new beginning, to fill every empty space, to have a plan before we've even fully let go of what came before. We're conditioned to fear the void, to see it as emptiness rather than potential, as loss rather than gestation.
But transformation doesn't work that way. Between the caterpillar and the butterfly lies the chrysalis – a time of apparent darkness when everything that was dissolves into formless potential. The caterpillar doesn't emerge from the cocoon with a plan. It surrenders completely to the mystery of becoming.
This liminal space is where the real magic happens. It's where old forms break down completely, where we release our grip on who we thought we were, where we become receptive to entirely new possibilities. It's uncomfortable because we have nothing to hold onto, no map to follow, no guarantee of what will emerge.
And it's sacred precisely because of this unknowing.
In our circle, we honored this space by simply being with the discomfort. We didn't rush to fill the silence with plans or new intentions. We allowed ourselves to rest in the fertile dark, trusting that transformation was happening even though we couldn't see it.
How to honor your own liminal space:
If you're in a period of transition – whether you chose it or it chose you – resist the urge to rush through to what's next. Instead:
- Create dedicated time for not-knowing. Sit in meditation or quiet reflection without agenda. Practice being rather than doing.
- Journal the questions rather than seeking answers. "Who am I becoming? What wants to emerge through me? What does this transition want to teach me?"
- Honor feelings of discomfort, uncertainty, or fear as signs that you're in sacred territory. These feelings aren't problems to solve but experiences to witness.
- Rest more than feels reasonable. Your entire being is reorganizing itself. This requires tremendous energy, even when it looks like nothing is happening.
- Trust the timing of your transformation. You can't force the butterfly to emerge before it's ready. You can only tend to the conditions that support the metamorphosis.
Phase Three: The Rebirth – Speaking Your Becoming
After dwelling in the darkness, our circle moved into the phase of emergence. But this wasn't about setting goals or making plans. It was about sensing into the essence of who we are becoming and giving it form through symbol and voice.
Each woman brought or chose an object – an image, a symbol, a crystal, a photograph, a piece of art – that represented what she is bringing forth into the world. Not what she's trying to become, but what she's allowing to emerge from her deepest self.
One by one, we spoke to the circle, holding our objects, sharing what they represented about our becoming. There was recognition, and profound witnessing. We weren't performing or proving anything – we were allowing the circle to see and reflect back the truth of who we are at our core.
What moved me most was how different each woman's becoming looked. No two journeys were the same. No two expressions of self were alike. This is the beauty of transformation – it doesn't make us more similar. It makes us more authentically, radiantly ourselves.
Your rebirth ceremony:
When you've honored the shedding and spent time in the liminal space, you'll feel a natural stirring toward emergence. You'll sense something wanting to be born through you. Honor this with your own ceremony:
- Choose or create a symbol of who you're becoming. This might be:
- An image that resonates with your emerging self
- A crystal or stone that embodies the energy you're calling in
- A piece of art you create specifically for this purpose
- A photograph that captures the essence of your becoming
- Words, poetry, or a manifesto you write
- Speak your becoming aloud. Even if you're alone, the act of giving voice to your transformation makes it real. You might say: "I am becoming a woman who..." or "I am calling forth my gifts of..." or "I am allowing myself to..."
- Create a physical reminder. Place your symbol where you'll see it daily. Let it remind you of who you're becoming when old patterns try to reassert themselves.
- Share with trusted witnesses when you're ready. There's power in being seen in your becoming by people who can reflect back your truth.
The Global Transformation: Finding Hope in the Fire
What we're experiencing in our personal lives mirrors what's happening collectively. Our country, our world, is in a profound process of transformation. Old systems are crumbling. Illusions are being shattered. What we thought was solid is revealing itself as unstable.
This is frightening. It's messy. It's painful to watch and painful to experience.
And it's also necessary.
The structures that are crumbling were never designed to serve everyone. The systems that are falling apart were built on foundations of inequality and exploitation. The comfortable narratives that are being challenged were always incomplete truths.
For true transformation to happen – for something more beautiful, more just, more aligned with our highest values to emerge – the old forms must fall away completely. We must move through the fire. We must endure the liminal space of not knowing what comes next.
This doesn't make it less scary. But it might make it more bearable if we can recognize it as part of a sacred cycle of death and rebirth rather than as meaningless destruction.
Like the phoenix rising from the ashes, the fire is needed for the rising. The burning away of what no longer serves creates the conditions for something magnificent to emerge.
The Phoenix Rising: Your Transformation is Sacred
The phoenix is perhaps our most powerful symbol of transformation. This mythical bird doesn't simply survive the fire – it requires the fire. It builds its own funeral pyre, sets itself aflame, burns completely to ash, and then rises renewed, reborn, more magnificent than before.
The key insight: the phoenix doesn't fear the fire. It knows the fire is necessary. It participates willingly in its own death because it trusts completely in its rebirth.
You are the phoenix, dear ones. We all are. And right now, many of us are in the fire.
Some of us are in the phase of shedding, feeling everything we thought we knew falling away. Some of us are in the liminal space, sitting in the ashes, not yet seeing any sign of what's coming. Some of us are in the early stages of emergence, sensing new wings forming but not yet ready to fly.
Wherever you are in the cycle, trust it. Your transformation is unfolding exactly as it needs to. The discomfort, the uncertainty, the fear – these aren't signs that something is wrong. They're signs that something profound is happening.
Timing Your Transformation
Remember that transformation is not linear. You may move through these phases at different speeds, or cycle through them multiple times. Some aspects of your life may be in shedding while others are in rebirth. This is natural.
Signs you're in Shedding:
- Feeling ready for change but uncertain what that looks like
- Old patterns no longer feeling comfortable
- Experiencing losses or endings
- Feeling complete with certain chapters of life
- Confusion about who you are or what you want
- Feeling "in between" identities or life stages
- Discomfort with not knowing what's next
- Need for more rest and solitude than usual
- Feeling creative energy returning
- Sensing new possibilities
- Clarity emerging about desires or direction
- Increased energy and enthusiasm for life
A Note on Collective Transformation
As I write this, our country and world are in profound transformation. We're in the messy middle – past the point of no return to what was, but not yet clear about what will be. This is the liminal space on a collective scale.
It's uncomfortable. It's scary. Many of us feel helpless as we watch structures crumble and uncertainty reign.
But remember the phoenix. Remember Kali. Remember that transformation always looks like destruction in the middle. The caterpillar doesn't know it's becoming a butterfly when everything it knew dissolves in the chrysalis.
What if this collective chaos is exactly what needs to happen for something more beautiful to emerge? What if the systems that are crumbling needed to fall? What if the illusions that are being shattered were always blocking our view of truth?
I'm not suggesting we be passive in the face of injustice or suffering. Rather, I'm inviting us to approach this collective transformation with the same wisdom we bring to personal transformation:
- Honor the shedding of systems that never served everyone
- Trust the liminal space even when it's terrifying
- Hold the vision of what we're becoming as a society
- Participate actively in birthing the new world
We are all phoenixes in the fire together. Your light matters. Your transformation matters. Your willingness to burn and rise again matters.
An Invitation to Sacred Becoming
Dear ones, wherever you are in your transformation journey, know that you are held by the wisdom of the seasons, supported by the cycles that have repeated since the beginning of time, and guided by forces larger than you can see.
The shedding you're experiencing is making space for something more true.
The liminal darkness you're navigating is gestating something more beautiful.
The rebirth you're stepping into is calling forth something more authentic.
Trust the fire. Honor the ashes. Know that you will rise.
May you have courage for the shedding.
May you have patience for the liminal space.
May you have joy in your becoming.
And may you remember always that your transformation is sacred, necessary, and exactly what the world needs.
With fierce love and unwavering faith in your phoenix heart,
Jen
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