Cloudcroft
The magic of arriving somewhere new at night, and an announcement ✨
December 11th, 2024.
We gained elevation, driving through Lincoln National Forest, as the mountains met the dusky sky. The sun set as we left White Sands National Park, treating us to a spectacular show of warm pinks and purples, the sun turning the sands a soft yellow in its last gifts of daylight.
The sunsets are different out here—a sliver of daytime blue holds on for much longer, sitting at the horizon and stretching out for miles. As we began our climb through the winding roads of the Rocky Mountains, night had finally engulfed us. Sitting in the passenger seat, I noticed the sky, full of stars, glimmering above the pine trees. First Aid Kit played on the stereo, and all felt deliciously peaceful.
I love arriving in new places at night. It awakens a childlike wonder in me, and I let myself linger in the nostalgia of that feeling for a while. I was reveling in a cozy kind of surrender as we continued to drive. There is something deeply centering about surrender, and as we grow older, it feels increasingly rare to allow ourselves into it. But in this moment, I let go. I placed my faith in the magic of nighttime, trusting the quiet belief that all would be okay. I tilted my head against the cool window, lifting my gaze toward the tree line—just as I used to do as a little girl. I tucked myself deeper into my jacket, my cheek sinking into the down, my body yielding to gravity as the car took the hairpin turns of the road.
We passed a church, all lit up for the holidays with old-fashioned oil lamps flanking either side of the entrance, and little cabins tucked behind hedges beckoning me in with the mere suggestion of the sweeping views behind them. We arrived at our home for the night, perched high up in the sky. As we unloaded the car, my breath made clouds in the frigid air. I noticed a half-moon.
In the morning, Dan gently shook me awake. “Come see the elk,” he said. Groggily, I followed him to the living room window, and a few feet from us, stood an elk with fingered antlers atop its head. He grazed on a small patch of grass. The sun rose, creating soft shadows in the kitchen.
Cradling a hot mug between my hands, I looked out to the ridges of hills extending in every direction around us, the mystery of night yielding the magic of day in Cloudcroft, New Mexico.
THE BEAD CEREMONY- Word of the Year
Join me on January 29th for a magical night at Frank’s House in Brooklyn. A mid-winter gathering to slow down, breathe, and come home to your inner knowing.
Under the soft glow of a Pisces moon, we’ll move gently through meditation, somatic intuition practices, and reflective journaling before choosing our word of the year — the feeling, frequency, or intention you want to carry into 2026.
We’ll each craft a beaded bracelet infused with our unique words, creating a ritual object to wear as a reminder of your deepest alignment.
I can’t wait to see you there <3.