Last Sunday, I shared a few words on Twitter. I offered to give folks free and donation based divination via cartomancy and bibliomancy.
It was the first Sunday of July, deep into Cancer season, and I felt moved to offer some message: gentle guidance for the moment and some comfort for the road. I wanted to speak to the emotional landscapes folks were navigating, to the griefs and joys rising up in this watery season. I didn’t expect such a strong response. And yet, here I am, now at 12:20 AM PST on a Thursday, finishing up another batch of mini divinations, grateful and humbled by the invitation.
As I moved through the pulls, I found myself rejoicing. I also had to pause and look within. Across the cards and messages, I noticed patterns and reoccurring themes—threads that kept reemerging with clarity and urgency. And of course, that makes perfect sense. The cosmos is always speaking to us as a collective. Nature and the heavens are not silent. And when we tune in, especially through our ancient, ancestral, and indigenous tools, we begin to remember that everything is always in conversation. Nothing is ever just about us individually. It’s about the currents we’re moving through together.
It’s taken me three separate sittings so far to move through all the requests for messages. And in moments like this, I have to return to one of the most sacred truths of my practice: honoring the limitations of my body. After extended periods of divination or channeling, my body begins to ache, and my spirit grows heavy. That’s when I know it’s time to pause. Rest, too, is part of the work.
I also try to set myself up with intention and care each time—to open myself as a vessel with clarity, specificity, and wisdom. But that clarity doesn’t come from me alone. It’s a grace that flows only because of my spiritual team: my ancestors, guides, and guardians. They are the ones who imbue, impart, and equip me with what I need to receive and transmit what’s being asked to come through.
I began the readings on Sunday, continued on my flight Monday, and then returned to them again tonight. And tonight’s messages were tender. Beautiful, even. I’m grateful that I had the capacity to be present for them. I’m also grateful to be here in California, a place that makes my heart smile, a place where I always feel just a little more in alignment.
Later today, at 1:37 PM PST, 4:37 PM EST, we’ll meet the Full Moon, also called the Buck Moon. It rises in the grounded Earth sign of Capricorn, sitting directly across from watery Cancer, the sign we’re currently in. This axis—Cancer and Capricorn—asks us to hold our emotions and responsibilities, our inner world and our outer commitments, our softness and our structure.
While I won’t go too far into the astrological mechanics of this moon here, I do want to share some of the key messages and themes that emerged from the divinations since Sunday. These are the collective threads, the shared medicine:
Befriending your Emotions
Henri Nouwen teaches that healing comes not from the eradication of emotion but from the gentle, curious presence we bring to it. To befriend your emotions is to stop seeing them as enemies or interruptions to your life, and instead to welcome them as companions on your journey—sometimes uncomfortable, sometimes tender, always trying to tell you something true. In a world that rewards detachment, efficiency, and repression, especially for Black folks navigating constant structural violence, emotional life becomes a radical site of reclamation.
Research in affective neuroscience confirms what our elders and ancestors have always known: naming and validating emotions reduces their grip. Dr. Dan Siegel calls it “name it to tame it”, the practice of identifying feelings to soothe the nervous system. But our traditions go further, teaching us that emotions aren’t just neurochemical responses; they’re spiritual data, signs from the body and soul that something sacred is unfolding. When we pause and make space to listen, we invite healing to begin.
Pursuing Peace
Peace is not the absence of noise, conflict, or intensity. It’s the presence of alignment, a sense that your spirit, body, and decisions are attuned to one another. Pursuing peace requires discernment, boundaries, and sometimes even confrontation. It’s not about bypassing discomfort but about choosing not to be held hostage by chaos. For those of us shaped by trauma or survival, peace can feel unfamiliar, even unsafe. But that’s why it’s a practice: something we return to again and again.
Peace is also political. For Black, queer, trans, disabled, and other marginalized folks, inner peace is deeply tied to collective well-being. Audre Lorde wrote, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” To pursue peace is to assert your right to wholeness in a world that tries to fracture you. It means learning what nourishes your nervous system, what settles your heart, and building your life around those truths.
Speaking Affirmations Aloud
There is power in the spoken word. When we say affirmations aloud, we activate sound, vibration, and intention simultaneously. It’s not just a feel-good habit—it’s a spiritual technology. In many African and Indigenous traditions, speaking something aloud—be it a prayer, a name, or a declaration—is part of the ritual work of making it real. The breath carries life-force (what some call ase, prana, or ruach), so when you speak affirmations, you are literally breathing life into your becoming.
Studies in cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) and neuroplasticity also support this. Repeating affirming phrases with emotion and consistency can help rewire neural pathways, especially when they disrupt long-held internalized beliefs of unworthiness, shame, or powerlessness. But beyond the science, this is also about returning to practices of invocation. Saying “I am safe,” “I am held,” or “I am worthy” aloud, especially in your full voice, is a way of aligning yourself with what Spirit is already affirming about you.
Making Peace with the Disharmony Within
There’s a difference between “having it all together” and being in harmony. So many of us carry inner wars—between who we were and who we’re becoming, between our desires and our fears, between truth and silence. This internal dissonance is not a flaw; it’s a byproduct of having lived through systems that taught us to suppress, fragment, and compartmentalize. The work is not to erase the disharmony but to sit with it long enough to understand its origin and to bring love to the warring parts.
Parts work and Internal Family Systems (IFS) theory name this directly: within each of us live multiple “parts”—aspects of ourselves shaped by different experiences and needs. Healing comes not from rejecting any part but from offering compassion to each one. When you make peace with your inner conflict, you stop punishing yourself for being human. You begin to integrate the fragmented aspects of yourself and live from a center that can hold complexity with grace.
Addressing Anxiety, Trauma, and Avoidance
These three, anxiety, trauma, and avoidance, often come braided together. Anxiety can be a symptom of trauma, a response to unresolved wounds stored in the body. Avoidance becomes a coping mechanism: a way to bypass the overwhelm. But the bypassing never brings relief; it only deepens the tension. Part of the message from Spirit this week is a call to turn and face these with courage—not to fix them all at once, but to start listening to what they’re pointing toward.
Somatic therapists like Resmaa Menakem remind us that trauma lives in the body, not just the mind. Anxiety is often a sign that the body doesn’t feel safe, and avoidance may be the nervous system’s attempt to preserve that safety. By gently exploring what we fear, naming what we carry, and grounding ourselves through spiritual or somatic practices, we begin to disrupt the cycle. Spirit wants us to live fully, not trapped by the past. That begins by making space to notice the fear and then calling in support to meet it.
Mending Broken Bonds
There’s been a call for repair, deep, relational, often uncomfortable repair. The messages these past few days pointed again and again to the importance of tending to what’s been broken: friendships in rupture, kinships in silence, partnerships weighed down by unsaid truths. Mending won’t always mean reconciliation, but it will require truth. Without truth, there can be no real healing, only performance.
Black and Indigenous traditions have always known that repair is sacred. In Yoruba cosmology, for example, iwa pele(gentle character) is tied to one's ability to cultivate harmony, both inwardly and outwardly. But harmony isn’t just about smoothness, it’s about justice. It requires naming harm, offering apology, witnessing pain, and choosing responsibility over shame. Many of us are being invited to revisit the altar of relationship to tell the truth with love, and to allow healing to begin on its own terms.
Honoring the Way You’re Uniquely Shaped
You are a singular expression of something ancient. The shape of your being, your sensitivities, your ways of knowing, your rhythms and wounds, are not accidents. They are reflections of your lineage, your Spiritual Court, and the other lives you’ve carried across time. In a society that tries to flatten us into sameness, especially as Black people, reclaiming your distinctiveness is sacred. The world may try to shrink you, but Spirit carved you with intention.
Theologians and metaphysicians across traditions speak of divine purpose not as a job title but as embodied expression. The shape of your soul is the sermon. When you abandon yourself in the pursuit of belonging, especially in environments that punish difference, you abandon your divine design. This season calls you back to yourself, not in isolation, but in rootedness: knowing that who you are carries the DNA of ancestors, the echoes of past lives, and the sacred fingerprints of Spirit.
Embracing Emotionality While Being Fully Embodied
We are not meant to choose between feeling deeply and being grounded. This binary is a Western construction, a legacy of Cartesian dualism that separated mind from body, spirit from flesh, emotion from intellect. But our ancestral traditions reject this split. They teach that the body is a site of revelation, that emotional expression is part of spiritual integrity. You can weep and still walk in power. You can feel rage and still be rooted in wisdom.
Being fully embodied doesn’t mean being in control at all times, it means being present. It means allowing your emotions to rise and move through you, not consume or immobilize you. Somatic practices, breathwork, dancing, ritual movement, all help us return to the body not as a prison, but as a sacred instrument. In this Full Moon portal, with Cancer’s emotional depth and Capricorn’s stabilizing structure, we are invited to feel fully and stay rooted. That, too, is liberation.
If this found you right on time, I hope you’ll sit with the pieces that tug at your spirit. You’re not alone in your healing. The messages are always unfolding, always available, if we’re willing to listen.
if your standing in the need of deeper support, check my links to book a Kiki session or service with me.
With tenderness and alignment, Hakim
Mmmmm……this is right on time and I felt every word you wrote. Spirit was like, this for you!! But of course it is, it’s from Hakim! Thank you. Asé. Blessings.