on the World Soul, other realms, relational astrology, and sharing our inner workings
yes, we can have nice things // 14
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If you’re new here, welcome—and if you’re not, welcome back! This week’s edition of Cosmic Kudos is part of a twice-monthly “running list” of reasons why we humans can have nice things. A space of both positivity and the reframing of things that may not at first seem positive, it features poems, stories, art, podcast episodes, articles or (good) news items, ritual practices, signs from the Universe, and more.
Hi lovelies,
The weather has finally turned, for the most part, and it is glorious. I’ve been walking a lot, getting out into the misty mornings to enjoy the cool air on my cheeks and hands. The veil thins, as it does this time of year, though many in the spiritual community are now debunking this popular claim as myth, intimating that there is no veil, or if there is it is always thin, and that kind of thing makes me laugh. Of course, we can have experiences with other realms at any time of year. When we embrace our true selves, we are soul-led beings; as such, we make up—we are, in essence—the spirit realm.
But there is something especially potent about October. Please allow me to continue enjoying this word-witchery.
Regardless of ambiguous spiritual truths, I find myself knocking boots in the astral realm. (I said what I said.) Messages are shouted across the void between consciousness and slumber and I startle up with poems and dreams spilling from between my ears, a single word blasting me into wakefulness: Fortuna. Fortuna! as if it’s my name being called. I think of the World Soul, Anima Mundi. Is it like the Celtic wheel of the year? Turning, turning its globe. I wonder where I’ll go next; if the soul of the world will take my hand and pull me along with it.
Yes, actually. I know it will.
Things are shifting—so many at once it’s dizzying. Sometimes it feels like the human experience is capitalized on inevitable loss, one after the other. Time stretches, expanding then contracting again. Relationships buckle; some collapse under the pressure. We’re not meant to be processing this much information, not meant to “absorb” and simply go about our day when this much collective grief is hanging in the balance.
Certainly, change is inevitable—fated, even, especially now. After all, eclipse season stays eclipsing. The World Soul is hurting, dense and volatile, violence after senseless act of violence enacted upon it. And yet, it holds us all.
Going to do my best to keep these editions of CK short(er) and sweet going forward. Hope you’re all hanging in there with the heaviness of the current climate and all the chaos and tumult of eclipse season.
Speaking of eclipse season (I’ll be able to stop yammering about it soon, I promise), the end of this two-year cycle occurs this Saturday, October 28. If you want to learn more about what this means, take a look at my posts here and here.
This is an older TikTok denouncing many a viral astrologer’s tendency for being all “doom and gloomy” about eclipse season, but a goodie—stay til the end for my reading of a short poem I wrote.
I have been obsessively listening to Adrienne Maree Brown’s podcast, How to Survive the End of the World. This episode with my favorite astrologer Chani Nicholas (as I’m sure you all know by now) was a joy to listen to.
Deeply appreciated this thoughtfully articulated Slate article about how sharing her trauma in her new memoir may affect Britney Spears’ mental health adversely—just like it can for those of us who share writing about our own traumatic experiences online.
Writer and astrologer Jeanne Kadlec, who publishes the ever-inspiring
, on “app astrology” versus the actual practice of astrology. A fascinating and resonant read. I did not realize I was looking for a term like “relational astrology”, or a way of truly living according to the cycles of the planetary bodies, until now— though of course I much prefer to live my own life in this way.Award-winning poet and essayist Louise Gluck’s The Denial of Death, published in the Paris Review after her own death on October 13. RIP to a true literary heavyweight. I’ve been tearing through much of her work in the wake of that and this is quite an arresting poetic essay: beautiful, strange, and heartbreaking.
I found this piece/podcast episode from Marcy Farrey, who writes
, extremely helpful. It tackles the question as to whether we should be weighing in with our stances on greater world issues, and offers up a wealth of insight around how to decide if we want to contribute our voices to doing just that. You can have a listen or read the transcript.
“I find myself naturally wanting to push back on this need to make everything so public. You do not owe a behind the scenes look into your inner workings to anyone. Will showing some of this make you a better creator and a storyteller? Sure. But doing this from a balanced and aligned place will be much better than opening the doors to let it all spill out haphazardly.
When we're sharing our voice, it's important to be responsible with it. To give ourselves time to sit with things before we invite others in and before we jump into other conversations. And to also acknowledge when we don't know enough or have not done enough research yet to contribute on a deeper level.”
—Marcy Farrey
Our poem for this week is one I recently rediscovered amidst the array of life- and soul-affirming poems shared in the comments of this post via bestselling poet
’s Substack, For Dear Life. Here is “The Thing Is”, by Ellen Bass. Apologies in advance if it makes you want to curl up in the corner and cry for a bit; I’ll wait here.
The Thing Is to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hands, your throat filled with the silt of it. When grief sits with you, its tropical heat thickening the air, heavy as water more fit for gills than lungs; when grief weights you down like your own flesh only more of it, an obesity of grief, you think, How can a body withstand this? Then you hold life like a face between your palms, a plain face, no charming smile, no violet eyes, and you say, yes, I will take you I will love you, again.
Here’s hoping for a calm (if at all possible) and enjoyable Hallowe’ekend and a blessed Samhain for all my witches who celebrate. I wanted to resurface a piece I wrote about it, and the thinning of the veil, last year. More on my thoughts about the concept of the veil thinning—or not—there, too.
Samhain and the thinning of the veil between realms
·Happy Halloween and Samhain, friends! I don’t think there’s a more ubiquitously used witchy turn-of-phrase when it comes to this time of year than the “thinning of the veil between realms.” It’s a concept that has always been irrevocably linked with Samhain (pronounced SAH-win), otherwise known as the Witches New Year, and of course, an …
“We can communicate with spirits at any time. We can ask for signs from our spirit guides, angels, leave offerings on ancestor altars, or ask them to come to us and reveal answers we may not even realize we’ve been questioning in our dreams.
But I do think there are periods—and places—when we notice it’s easier to receive messages, or that the denizens of the spirit realm feel closer to us, or that our dreams feel stranger and more vivid than usual. And I hope that the answers for any questions you have for your own guides are revealed to you, though they may not arrive in the manner you expect.”
Thank you for reading Cosmic Kudos. If you’d like to support my work, you can purchase a paid subscription; buy me a coffee here, if you’d like to provide a one-off contribution; and share this post with a friend if it resonated. On the Substack app? Please consider restacking, as it helps more readers find my writing.
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xx, Kimia
Thank you so much for sharing my recent post and episode! It is always so nice to hear when it resonates with someone. And I'm glad to have learned about you through Substack--I looked at your publication and can tell it is something I will very much enjoy!