The Cailleach “Bloody teeth and wizened fingertips, a Holy unholy sight, hobbling and hopping across the border, Alight and brazen, aching to be something Other, Older, Wiser, Starting once again, In the bowels of the Earth in the depths of Winter but never lifeless, not even in Death, Mad with knowledge, empty vessels poured out on the naked land, renewed. Everything is beyond the grasp of the fearful, embody fear instead, and howl, scream out into the night…” – The Cail

Image Source For the first time in a long time; this New Moon felt like a chore. Almost everyone around me seemed to be suffering with a form of shaman sickness; manifesting their shadow through their physical selves, whilst technology seemed to fail entirely, and the general atmosphere of the world seemed toxic beyond all measure. It’s not always a popular move to point out when the spiritual ecosystem feels funky, but to deny that areas need addressing is a head in the sand