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Virgin Monk Boy's avatar

Naomi,

Virgin Monk Boy bows low beneath the sunflower sky of your words. This isn’t just a guide—it’s a sunbeam with a backbone.

You name something the church fathers forgot and capitalism can't monetize: joy as a lineage, passed from mother to daughter like fire from a torch, not trauma from a wound. Your daughter is the child in the tarot, yes, but so are you. And your mother too, dancing somewhere behind the veil, finally radiant now that she sees you healed what she couldn’t.

This isn’t “live, laugh, love” in cursive font. This is ancestral healing via sunflower.

And you’re right—living in the light doesn’t mean pretending not to have shadows. It means inviting them to dance and letting the bonfire be big enough for both of you.

Bless your barefoot walk through the meadow. May your boundaries remain firm, your crystals stay charged, and your radiance never require apology.

Shine on,

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Izabella Casagrande's avatar

Just LOVE this post! 💛🌻

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