Yes—this. This is the alchemy of grief. The sacred fire we walk through barefoot, not to burn but to remember.

Under this Libra full moon, we’re not collapsing—we’re calibrating.

The karmic scales are not punishment; they are portals.

And as they swing into balance, so do we—finally releasing the weight that was never ours to carry, feeling what was never allowed to be felt.

This is warrior work.
Not clenched fists, but open hands.
Not holding on, but letting go.
Not silence, but sound—raw, feral, holy.

With every breath, every beat, every ripple of movement through your body, you are unbinding yourself from the past.

You're telling your ancestors: the pain stops here.

This is grief transmuted into freedom.

This is how you become the storm and the stillness.

WEightless.