Slap bang in the middle of Autumn, this season is all about transformation - from the life of summer to the death of winter. This death in turn, left to its alchemical process, unleashes new life. How can we harness this time of transformation for our own internal processes? What are we shedding, and what are we seeding? As the nights grow and the days shorten, how can we get intimate with the darkness, instead of longing for the light? As we approach this new moon in Scorpio, can we connect with forgotten or undiscovered parts of ourselves that we often only find in the quiet stillness of the dark?
This season can bring up a lot, especially in these turbulent times, and the intention for this membership programme is to bring people together to explore how we can make the most out of the potency of this time, by going inwards, but on a shared journey. We will employ key tools of psychedelic preparation and integration - ritual, intention, commitment and community to support each other - and attune to nature’s rhythms as our anchors in this way of life. See this month’s schedule of events and watch our welcome video explaining the philosophy behind the membership programme.
A playlist to meditate, journal, dance or just lounge about to
A book of Silence by Sara Maitland
In a world full of noise, demands on our time and attention, Sara goes in search of silence. Her book explores what this means in practice, and how she has sought to cultivate it in her own life. At a time when many are having less contact with people, could it be an opportunity to find nourishment in solitude and silence, and what does that look and feel like? This book holds some inspiration.
Lines written in the Days of Growing Darkness
Every year we have been
Witness to it: how the
Into a rich mash, in order that
It may resume.
Who would cry out
To the petals on the ground
Knowing, as we must,
How the vivacity of what was, is married
To the vitality of what will be?
I don’t say
It’s easy, but what
Else will do
If the love one claims to have for the world
So let us go on, cheerfully enough,
This and every crisping day,
Though the sun be swinging east,
And the ponds be cold and black,
And the sweets of the year be doomed.
By Mary Oliver