Dear Reader,
Have you ever woken in the night with this wish?
Tell me what to do next.
Give me the steps.
Just let me have something solid to hold onto.
I know I have.
And it makes so much sense. Because our culture is absolutely addicted to the idea of an optimized life.
We've been conditioned to believe that if we could just get the right steps, in the right order, the future would bend to our will.
The plan is how we feel like we are keeping it all together. It's also how we avoid the terrifying intimacy of not knowing.
Here's the thing about the future, though: it doesn't arrive in logical, linear steps.
It arrives in flickers. In the 3am ruminations. In the thing you can't stop noticing even when you've told yourself it's not relevant.
The next right thing is almost never visible from a distance.
It is only visible when you slow down enough to receive it. When you stand in the threshold between what was and what wants to be, and wait.
This is what I believe altars are for.
Altar as not knowing.
Altar as the place you bring your questions when you've run out of answers.
Altar as the permission to slow to the pace of your own heart — and if your heart is racing, slower than that.
When we tend an altar, we remember that we are not "behind schedule".
An altar doesn't ask you to have it all figured out. It asks you to bring what's alive in you. Your questions. Your tentative dreams. Your grief.
You don't need special supplies or any clue about what bay leaf or cinnamon is supposed to attract.
It’s about creating a dedicated space to remember that you are more than your productivity, your roles, your fears.
When I work with clients in altar-making, we play.
We might write something down and wrap it in soft ribbon. Tear an old story we’ve outgrown into confetti. Draw a metaphor or energy that is trying to guide us. We don't take ourselves or the process too seriously. Play can be sacred too.
If you are craving THE PLAN, that's data. It's telling you something is feeling unresolved.
An altar is the place you bring the unresolved, and let it teach you. It says: Come sit here. Let's see what wants to speak.
On June 30th, that's exactly what we're going to do together.
More of You is a live two-hour workshop where altar-making becomes a way to listen to what’s emerging in you. No experience needed. Just a willingness to meet yourself with curiosity on the other side of the plan. We meet from 12-2 ET and registration is $24.
You can learn more and register here.
With love,
Brooke