Unmasking Dark Energies: Recognising and Protecting Against Deceptive Power

Introduction

Not all who appear charming, wise, or spiritual act with integrity. Just as there are people who radiate love, loyalty, and compassion, there are others who mask selfishness, jealousy, and manipulation beneath a false exterior. These individuals, energetically parasitic in nature, can have devastating effects on the lives they touch. Recognising them is the first step toward reclaiming personal power and preventing further harm.

Recognising Dark Energies

Deceptive energies often come disguised. They wear masks of charisma, spiritual insight, or generosity. They may seem attractive, popular, or even enlightened. Yet behind the façade lies a pattern of lies, cheating, emotional manipulation, and exploitation. Their tactics include:

  • Using sex disguised as love to drain energy and exert control.
  • Isolating victims from friends and family, much like narcissistic abusers.
  • Running emotionally hot and cold – one moment affectionate, the next distant or cruel.
  • Exploiting projects or causes “for humanity” as a cover for personal gain.

Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, they cloak their true nature beneath charm and apparent kindness, only to exploit those who let down their guard. Others experience this energy as being caught in a spider’s web, where every struggle only strengthens the predator’s grip until the victim is drained of vitality.

These behaviours align with what psychologists describe as manipulative and narcissistic abuse patterns¹. Gaslighting – a deliberate attempt to confuse and destabilise another’s perception of reality – is also common, leaving victims doubting their own memories, intuition, and sanity².

The Spell Effect

Many describe their entanglement with such individuals as being under a spell, a magnetic pull that defies logic. This effect has been compared to “psychic vampirism,” where one feeds off another’s energy³. The victim may notice synchronicities, telepathic impressions, or dream visitations, further confusing the mind and heart. In extreme cases, this energetic exchange resembles possession, leaving victims behaving in uncharacteristic or destructive ways.

Energetically, these dynamics can be understood as “cording”- where psychic hooks are formed through desire, fear, depression, or trauma. Such cords can be consciously cut through ritual, meditation, or sound practices, but often require significant inner work and external support.

Consequences

The aftermath of such relationships can be devastating:

  • Emotional exhaustion, confusion, and despair.
  • Disrupted friendships or family ties.
  • Prolonged grief and “dark night of the soul” experiences⁴.
  • Physical or energetic symptoms such as lethargy, depression, or suicidal ideation.
  • Trauma stored in the body, manifesting as chronic pain, digestive issues, or immune dysfunction⁵.

For many, this period marks a breaking point that requires deep courage, inner work, and sometimes spiritual intervention to overcome. Survivors often describe the experience as “reality altering,” with long-term impacts on self-esteem and trust.

Psychological and Spiritual Dynamics

From a psychological standpoint, these relationships often involve trauma bonding, where cycles of abuse are interspersed with intermittent affection, creating a powerful chemical dependency in the brain. Victims become addicted to the highs and lows, confusing pain with passion and mistaking control for intimacy².

Spiritually, dark energies operate from a state disconnected from higher vibrational sources. Like the “Dementors” in Harry Potter, they survive by draining joy and light from others. Cross-cultural traditions also speak of such forces – beings that feed on fear, suffering, desire, or life force. Dion Fortune’s early writings on psychic self-defense highlight how such entities exploit weaknesses in the aura or energetic field⁶.

Breaking Free and Protection

Escaping the web of dark energies requires both practical and spiritual strategies:

  • Boundaries: Do not allow them into your home, especially your bedroom.
  • Cleansing: Smudge with sage, burn incense, rearrange living spaces, and discard or cleanse any gifts.
  • Salt baths and sunlight: Equal parts salt and bicarbonate baths followed by sun exposure for at least 20 minutes helps cleanse and restore energetic balance.
  • Cord-cutting rituals: Visualisations of severing unhealthy energetic ties can restore autonomy.
  • Sound and movement: Drumming, chanting, or shaking the body can break stagnant energy.
  • Avoid alcohol/drugs: These weaken the energetic field, making one more vulnerable.
  • Ceremony and Support: For some, traditional Indigenous ceremonies or other spiritual practices provide powerful release⁷.
  • Therapeutic support: Trauma-informed counselling, bodywork, or somatic therapies help integrate the psychological aftermath⁵.

Family and friends may notice red flags before the individual does. Listening to trusted voices can help break through the fog of manipulation. Supporting someone entangled in such dynamics requires patience, compassion, and non-judgement, pressuring them often pushes them deeper into the web.

Transformation and Gifts of Survival

Though shattering, these encounters often become profound initiations. Survivors report:

  • Heightened discernment, able to “spot” manipulative energy quickly.
  • Greater empathy for others caught in abusive dynamics.
  • A deeper connection to spiritual guidance and inner strength.
  • A renewed commitment to healthy relationships based on respect, honesty, and integrity.

This is the paradox: dark energies break us open, but in doing so they can also illuminate hidden wounds, pushing us toward healing and awakening. Once you have faced and recognised them, you carry the strength and discernment to never be deceived in the same way again. Awareness becomes protection, and protection becomes freedom.

References

  1. Brown, B. (2016). Disarming the narcissist: Surviving and thriving with the self-absorbed (2nd ed.). New Harbinger Publications.
  2. Forward, S. (1997). Emotional blackmail. HarperCollins.
  3. Masters, J. (2018). Energy vampires: How to deal with emotional vampires and energy drainers. CreateSpace Independent Publishing.
  4. May, G. G. (2004). The dark night of the soul: A psychiatrist explores the connection between darkness and spiritual growth. HarperOne.
  5. van der Kolk, B. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.
  6. Fortune, D. (2001). Psychic self-defense. Weiser Books. (Original work published 1930).
  7. Atkinson, J. (2002). Trauma trails: Recreating song lines. Spinifex Press.

Ancient Energy, Living Healing

The Origins, History, and Benefits of Reiki and Seichim

Energy healing has been practiced across cultures for centuries, weaving spiritual, physical, and emotional wellbeing into a holistic tapestry of care. Two modalities that have gained global recognition are Reiki and Seichim. Both are rooted in the channeling of universal life force energy, yet they carry distinct histories and approaches that continue to support practitioners and recipients worldwide.

The Origins of Reiki

Reiki, meaning “universal life energy” in Japanese, was founded by Mikao Usui in the early 20th century. Following a period of fasting and meditation on Mount Kurama, Usui experienced a profound spiritual awakening that enabled him to channel healing energy through his hands¹. He developed a system of energy healing involving attunements, hand placements, and symbols, which he passed on to students. From Japan, Reiki spread to Hawaii and later to the wider Western world through the work of Hawayo Takata, who was instrumental in introducing Reiki to North America in the 1930s².

The Origins of Seichim

Seichim (also spelled Sekhem or Seichem) is often described as the “mother energy” of Reiki, with roots that are said to extend back to ancient Egypt³. Patrick Zeigler is credited with reintroducing Seichim to the modern world after a profound mystical experience in the Great Pyramid of Giza in 1980⁴.

Seichim carries both fierce and compassionate aspects. It is associated with the Egyptian lion-headed goddess Sekhmet, known for her destructive fire and power to burn away what no longer serves, and with Kwan Yin, the goddess of mercy and compassion, who brings gentle, nurturing healing⁵. Together, these archetypes hold the polarity of transformation: destruction of the old and compassionate rebirth into wholeness.

My Journey with Reiki and Seichim

For me, these modalities have not only been practices but life-changing pathways of healing. My healing path began at age 28 when I became deathly ill, despite doctors insisting nothing was wrong. In my 30s, I began attunements in Reiki and Seichim. Around age 33, during attunements to Levels I and II of both systems, I experienced a profound release of trauma from a car accident that had damaged my leg. For the first time in approximately 16 years, I was able to walk properly again.

In 1999, I became a Reiki Master, and in 2000, a Seichim Master. The experience of this deep healing, and the unfolding that followed, is shared in my book The Promise: A Story of Love & Transformation (available here).

The History and Spread

Reiki gained official recognition in Japan, particularly during times of war, when it was used to support soldiers’ recovery⁶. In the West, it evolved into various branches, including Usui Reiki, Karuna Reiki, and others. Seichim, although younger in its Western re-emergence, has spread through attunements and teacher-student lineages similar to Reiki. Many practitioners integrate both systems, finding their combined practices complementary and expansive⁷.

Benefits of Reiki and Seichim

Reiki and Seichim work together like two waves of energy. Reiki is known as the wave going in – filling the body with universal life force, restoring balance, and supporting deep relaxation. Seichim is known as the wave coming out – drawing up and releasing what a person is holding within their body, often unconsciously. This may include stuck emotions or energetic imprints that contribute to physical or emotional pain. As many healers observe, bodily pain nearly always carries an emotional component.

Research on Reiki has demonstrated benefits such as reduction in stress, anxiety, and pain, as well as support for emotional wellbeing and relaxation⁸. For example, Reiki has been used in hospitals and palliative care settings to help reduce patients’ pain levels and improve quality of life. Studies have also shown it can aid in lowering heart rate, reducing cortisol levels, and enhancing overall wellbeing.

Seichim, though less widely studied, is reported by practitioners and recipients to facilitate emotional release, deep spiritual connection, and the balancing of subtle energies⁹. Some individuals describe Seichim sessions as profoundly transformative, bringing forward suppressed grief, accelerating personal growth, and activating intuitive awareness.

My own healing is just one example – and over the years, I have witnessed others experience relief from chronic pain, emotional breakthroughs, and a renewed sense of spiritual clarity through these modalities. Both Reiki and Seichim encourage balance, harmony, and the activation of the body’s innate capacity to heal.

Distance Healing

A unique aspect of both Reiki and Seichim is that they are not limited by physical proximity. Distance healing has been shown to be just as effective as in-person sessions, allowing energy to be channeled across time and space. Clients often report feeling deeply relaxed, supported, and energetically shifted after receiving from afar.

At present, I am offering distance healing sessions only. This allows you to receive the benefits of Reiki and Seichim wherever you are in the world, in the comfort of your own space.

To enquire or book a distance healing session, please visit: https://cheoco.net/booking-payment/

Conclusion

Reiki and Seichim reflect humanity’s ongoing relationship with universal life energy. Their histories—one rooted in Japan and the other linked to ancient Egypt – offer unique yet complementary paths for healing and transformation. Today, they continue to evolve, blending tradition with modern practice, and inviting individuals into a deeper relationship with their own energy, spirit, and wellbeing.

About the Author

Cheryl O’Connor (Cheoco) is a Reiki Master (since 1999) and Seichim Master (since 2000), writer, and dreamwork practitioner based in Queensland, Australia. Her healing path began at age 28 when she became deathly ill, despite doctors insisting nothing was wrong. In her 30s, she began attunements in Reiki and Seichim, and around age 33 she experienced a profound release of car accident trauma from her leg — allowing her to walk properly again for the first time in nearly 16 years.

Cheryl shares this transformation in her book The Promise: A Story of Love & Transformation (available here). Alongside her writing, she continues to explore energy, dreams, and spiritual awakening, weaving together wisdom traditions, personal healing, and the collective journey of transformation.

References

  1. Hiroshi, D. (1997). The Reiki Handbook: Traditional Usui Reiki methods. Tokyo: Reiki Institute.
  2. Rand, W. L. (2011). Reiki: The healing touch. Southfield, MI: Vision Publications.
  3. Barnett, S., & Chambers, T. (1996). Healing energy: Unlocking the secrets of Reiki and Seichim. London: Aquarian Press.
  4. Zeigler, P. (1984). Seichim: The doorway to ancient healing wisdom. Giza: Pyramid Press.
  5. Petter, F. A. (1999). Reiki Fire: New information about the origins of the Reiki power. Twin Lakes, WI: Lotus Press.
  6. Becker, C. (2004). Reiki in clinical practice: A new paradigm in patient care. Complementary Therapies in Nursing & Midwifery, 10(3), 142–148.
  7. Stein, D. (2012). Essential Reiki teaching manual. Berkeley, CA: Crossing Press.
  8. Baldwin, A. L., Wagers, C., & Schwartz, G. E. (2008). Reiki improves heart rate homeostasis in laboratory rats. Journal of Alternative and Complementary Medicine, 14(4), 417–422.
  9. Honervogt, T. (2002). Seichim and Reiki: Healing energy for the new millennium. London: Thorsons.

© Cheryl O’Connor, 2025. All rights reserved.
Please do not reproduce without permission. Sharing with credit and a link is welcome.

Beluga’s Warning

In the Summer of 2020 whilst on holiday with a friend I experienced a precognitive warning dream which began in silence, deep beneath the water. From the ocean floor, a Native Man stood with his arm outstretched, palm open, commanding: Stop. Do not proceed.

Before him glided two enormous, translucent-white mammals. They looked a little like dugongs, but I knew they were not. Their size, their presence, their essence, something otherworldly surrounded them. They had travelled a long distance to reach this place, and yet here was the warning: if they continued forward, destruction, perhaps even death awaited.

I felt the weight of the moment. I felt their sadness. And silently, reluctantly, the great white beings turned and swam back into the depths. The message struck me as abruptly as the scene itself: retreat, do not proceed.

Then the dream shifted.

I stood near a cottage, fittingly, at the time I was staying in a cottage myself. Two paths opened before me. From one direction approached my long-time friend of fifteen years. But he was drunk, rude, abusive, and cruel in a way I had never seen. At his side stood a young woman, and I recognised her: a reflection of myself in earlier years, when I still tolerated disrespect and abuse and made excuses for it.

In the dream, he walked off with her down one path. And I, alone, walked in the other direction.

When I woke, I knew exactly what it meant. Whatever had bound us was finished. He had taken with him the old part of myself that accepted mistreatment. I had chosen, again, to walk away from that pattern — and this time, there was no going back.

In waking life, the dream unfolded in sharp relief. My dear friend suddenly turned on me with shocking cruelty. His words cut, his behaviour burned, and grief landed hard.

Yet I saw it clearly: he had become the shape-shifting face of every man who had ever been abusive in my life. And for the first time, I did not excuse it, soften it, or offer another chance. The dream’s wisdom rang in me: stop, retreat, walk away.

When I told him my role in his life was complete, his fury erupted — yelling and screaming at me. It was horrible, and it knocked me around for weeks. Yet in vision, I saw a greater truth: a tree-trunk-sized umbilical cord connecting us was severed in a single swift stroke by a mighty sword.

The last test was complete.

Curious about the dream creatures, I searched. Though I knew they weren’t dugongs, I wondered if some rare species existed. Nothing appeared. Then, one morning while scrolling, there it was: the exact being from my dream. A Beluga Whale.

Large, white, gentle, with the same eyes and mouth. Exactly as I had seen, though in my dream, they were much larger.

Research told me Belugas are deeply family-oriented, appearing often in Russian folklore. They are called the canaries of the sea for their wide range of vocal sounds, yet when they travel in pods, they often move in silence to avoid predators. And when confronted with danger, they retreat rather than fight.

The parallels could not have been clearer.

The Beluga Dream reinforced what my soul already knew: silence, retreat, and refusal to engage was not weakness, it was wisdom. It was the way through. Dreams speak in symbols, but their truths run parallel to waking life. They offer us direction if we are willing to listen. Many say dreams are nonsense, but to me they are sacred gifts of guidance.

If a visitor comes to your door bearing a gift and you never open the door, how many times will they try to return? And how will you receive what was meant for you, if you never open it? It is the same with dreams.

My Beluga Dream was one such gift, a dream that stopped me in my tracks, tested my resolve, and handed me the courage to cut the final cord.

© Cheryl O’Connor, 2025. All rights reserved.
Please do not reproduce without permission. Sharing with credit and a link is welcome.

The Shattering of Trust: What Happens When Love Turns Unrecognisable

On Truth & Sovereignty

Dishonesty doesn’t just withhold information; it disrupts our ability to act from conscious awareness. It undermines our sovereignty. When we’re denied truth, we’re left making decisions based on partial realities, often manipulated by someone else’s narrative. It’s like walking through a fog someone else created.

Truth may sting, but dishonesty chains. One liberates; the other entangles. As Brené Brown observes, trust is built through honesty, boundaries, and consistency and when it’s gone, we lose more than clarity 1. We lose our sense of stability and self-trust.1

And the soul always knows.

Have you ever looked into the eyes of someone you loved and trusted, only to feel like you were staring into the face of a stranger? It’s a haunting kind of grief. When someone you’ve spent time (potentially years) loving, supporting, and feeling safe with suddenly turns, without warning or explanation, into someone unrecognisable, the rupture can shake you to your core.

When Trust Shatters

In the aftermath, impossible questions surface.

Did I unknowingly trigger a wound too deep to be healed? Did I get too close and activate a protective response? Were they ever truly themselves, or was it always a mask that finally slipped? Perhaps most painfully: What does this say about me?

As Bessel van der Kolk explains, when the relational foundation we’ve depended on crumbles, our nervous system reacts as though we’re under threat. It may activate hypervigilance, freeze responses, or dissociation 2 leaving us anxious, shut down, or questioning our own reality.

Without clear communication, we’re left with guesswork. The mind spins, “maybe it was this, maybe it was that”, but deep down, we know. The body knows. The intuition knows and ultimately all we can truly trust is our intuition, even when the mind wants or hopes to believe otherwise.

Coping or Reclaiming

So what do we do when trust breaks?

Some harden. They vow never to trust again. Others build walls so high no one can climb them, not even themselves. Many turn to coping strategies, overthinking, self-silencing, numbing, or doubting their worth. Gabor Maté reminds us that these patterns, while protective, often come at a cost to our emotional and physical wellbeing. 3

When we suppress pain to maintain connection, we betray ourselves.

And yet, betrayal can serve as a teacher. Terry Real suggests that relational pain often becomes a gateway to transformation. While one person learns the cost of disconnection, the other may reclaim their voice, their clarity, their truth. 4

When deception enters the field, both souls receive lessons.

For the one who hides truth, the lesson is clear: dishonesty costs more than it gains (usually the relationship). What once seemed like a clever avoidance ends up breaking the very thing they hoped to protect, connection, respect, intimacy and trust.

For the one on the receiving end of the lie or betrayal, the gift is sovereignty. To see clearly. To feel the fracture and still remain standing. To declare silently a firm boundary of truth or nothing. One learns the cost of deceit. The other embodies the power of truth.

The pain of betrayal can sharpen our ability to notice red flags sooner or sense when something doesn’t add up. Harriet Lerner encourages us to reclaim our voice after rupture, not through confrontation alone, but by choosing clarity, boundaries, and grounded presence. 5 Still, trust, once broken, rarely returns to its original form.

The Sacred Fracture

To me, trust is like a porcelain plate, fragile, beautiful, and meaningful. But once smashed, it never feels the same, no matter how carefully you piece it back together. And yet, there’s something sacred in the fracture. Kintsugi, the Japanese art of mending broken pottery with gold, reminds us that the cracks are part of our story. They don’t need to be hidden. They can shine. Because we are not broken. We are remade. Wiser. Clearer. And more sovereign than ever before.

Reflection invitation: Where in your life are you choosing sovereignty over illusion? And can you trust yourself enough to follow through?

References

1. Brown, B. (2021). Atlas of the heart: Mapping meaningful connection and the language of human experience. Random House.

2. van der Kolk, B. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.

3. Maté, G. (2003). When the body says no: Exploring the stress-disease connection. Vintage Canada.

4. Real, T. (2022). Us: Getting past you and me to build a more loving relationship. Cornerstone.

5. Lerner, H. (2001). The dance of connection: How to talk to someone when you’re mad, hurt, scared, frustrated, insulted, betrayed, or desperate. HarperCollins.

© Cheryl O’Connor, 2020 and 2025. All rights reserved.
Please do not reproduce without permission. Sharing with credit and a link is welcome.

Beyond the “Toxic” Label: Healing the Wounded Masculine and Feminine

For quite some time now I’ve found myself sitting with the word “toxic”, a word that’s everywhere when people talk about behaviour.

In particular the phrase: “toxic masculinity” has been bothering me. As too has the phrase “he/she is toxic”.

I see it spoken of often, but I have never liked it because it feels heavy, final… and wrong because I don’t see toxicity at the root of these behaviours. I see wounds. I see a distortion of a once-sacred energy that has been bent out of shape by fear, silence, and survival. And we all carry it, men and women alike.

When we label a person as being “toxic,” we risk closing the door on that person’s healing. We make it sound as though the essence of the person in and of itself is dangerous, rather than acknowledging that the person and their original energy has been wounded and misdirected. Distorted energy is not beyond repair, it can be realised, the sacred remembered and restored, and brought back into harmony.

The Feminine Energy

The feminine is the receptive, intuitive, and nurturing force. She is the part of us that listens before acting, feels before deciding, and values connection over conquest.

Feminine qualities include:

  • Intuition – sensing beyond logic
  • Receptivity – openness to ideas, emotions, and experiences
  • Creativity – birthing visions, art, or possibilities
  • Compassion – empathy and care for self and others
  • Flow – moving with life rather than forcing it

When the feminine becomes wounded or distorted, it may show up as:

  • Over-giving and self-sacrifice
  • Difficulty setting boundaries
  • Suppressing one’s own needs to keep the peace
  • Emotional manipulation or withdrawal

The Masculine Energy

The masculine is the active, structured, and directional force. He is the part of us that creates plans, builds systems, and protects what matters.

Masculine qualities include:

  • Action – decisive movement towards a goal
  • Structure – healthy boundaries and discipline
  • Focus – clarity of vision and sustained attention
  • Protection – creating safe containers for growth
  • Logic – reasoning and problem-solving

When the masculine becomes wounded or distorted, it may show up as:

  • Control and domination
  • Suppressing emotion or rejecting vulnerability
  • Overwork and constant striving without rest
  • Aggression without cause
  • Seeing relationships or the earth as resources to be used rather than honoured

Why We Need Both

Neither energy is “better” than the other. Too much masculine without feminine can lead to burnout, control, and emotional disconnection. Too much feminine without masculine can leave us ungrounded, directionless, or unable to act on our visions. Healthy integration is the goal, the masculine providing structure for the feminine to flow, and the feminine infusing the masculine with heart and meaning.

Steps Toward Rebalancing

  • If you’re running on overdrive (masculine-heavy):
    Slow down, rest, journal, spend unstructured time in nature, or create without a deadline.
  • If you’re feeling unmoored (feminine-heavy):
    Set a clear, achievable goal, make a plan, and take the first step.

Why Language Matters

The words we use shape the energy of the conversation. When we say “toxic masculinity,” we unintentionally code the entire masculine essence as harmful. But if we speak of wounded or distorted energy, we acknowledge the hurt without erasing the sacred form underneath.

This shift in language invites compassion for Self and others and from compassion, real change becomes possible.

Recommended Reading

  1. “King, Warrior, Magician, Lover” – Robert Moore & Douglas Gillette
    A map of masculine archetypes and how they can be healthy or distorted.
  2. “Women Who Run With the Wolves” – Clarissa Pinkola Estés
    Reclaiming the instinctual feminine through myth and story.
  3. “The Way of the Superior Man” – David Deida
    Masculine purpose, polarity, and presence for all genders.
  4. “The Heroine’s Journey” – Maureen Murdock
    Exploring the feminine quest and the return to self.
  5. “Warrior Goddess Training” – HeatherAsh Amara
    Blending inner strength with self-compassion.
  6. “Sacred Union” – Anaiya Sophia
    The alchemy of divine feminine and masculine energies.

Final Reflection

This conversation isn’t about criticising the masculine or glorifying the feminine, it’s about remembering that both are sacred, both can be wounded, and both are needed. By speaking of distortion instead of toxicity, we leave space for healing, for truth, and for a return to balance.

© Cheryl O’Connor, 2025. All rights reserved.
Please do not reproduce without permission. Sharing with credit and a link is welcome.

Disclaimer: The information shared in this article and chart is for awareness and self-reflection only. It is not intended as psychological, medical, or therapeutic advice. If you are experiencing distress, please seek support from a qualified professional.

Nocturnal Communion:

When the Dream Lover Comes Bearing Fire

“Dreamtime lover comes to me,
helping me to clearly see
all I truly need to know—
your love for me you always show.

Guiding me to do what’s right,
giving me strength and insight.
Physically separate but living as One,
teaching me what needs to be done.

Knowing our love only grows and can never end,
as you assist me gradually to my Self mend.”

Have you ever woken with your body humming, breath quickened, heart strangely full? A dream so vivid, it left you aching—or glowing—with something you couldn’t quite name?

So many whisper it quietly:
“I had the most intense dream last night… but I can’t tell you. It’s too much.”

But I say, tell me everything. Because these dreams? They are sacred. They’re not just about sex. They are about energy. Integration. Memory. Reclamation.

We give this energy so many names: sexual energy, creative energy, Kundalini, God, Goddess, Great Spirit, Divine Union, Reiki, Seichim, Universal Life Force. But they are all rivers feeding the same source – the wild current of life itself. And its most ecstatic, alchemical expression? Orgasm. There’s a reason we cry out “Oh God” in those moments of deep pleasure. It’s not blasphemy. It’s a soul-deep remembering.

In dreams, anything becomes possible. We may find ourselves in the arms of a stranger, a past lover, someone we’ve never touched in waking life, but who feels as familiar as our own breath. Sometimes we merge with spirit beings, ancestors, archetypes. The forms may be surreal, symbolic, or shapeshifting, because dream lovers aren’t always literal, they’re invitations.

Invitations to reunite with soul threads. To embody the Lover, the Serpent, the Priestess, the Healer. To meet ourselves in forms we’ve long silenced or disowned. Often, it’s not about the person at all, but what they represent. Power. Passion. Tenderness. Permission. The dream body remembers what the waking mind forgets.

And let’s name the deeper truth now: soul-level communion is real. These dreams don’t always stay contained in the psyche. Sometimes, they’re shared experiences. If you’re thinking of someone with strong emotion, longing, desire, even grief, that thought becomes energy. It moves. It reaches. And if the other is attuned to you, they may feel it. Not as a conscious thought, but as a subtle frequency. A stirring in the night. A dream they can’t quite shake.

This is the intelligence of the soul field. Where time and space dissolve. Where lovers remember each other through the veil.

These dreams often arrive during times of emotional or energetic opening. When we’re grieving, creatively blocked, repressing desire, or navigating a threshold, these dreams come as messengers. They bring healing. They activate dormant parts of the body. They offer closure, clarity, confirmation. They reignite our connection to joy, to power, to the sacred yes of aliveness.

Even dream-orgasms, yes, they’re real, can be profoundly healing. Especially if touch, pleasure, or intimacy has been absent in waking life. And yet so many carry shame. They wake from these dreams wondering, “What’s wrong with me?” Especially if the imagery was strange, forbidden, or “inappropriate.” But erotic dreams don’t come to shame us, they come to liberate us.

We’ve all dreamt of partners we wouldn’t choose in the light of day, same-sex lovers, celebrities, even people from our past we’d rather forget. But dreams are symbolic. They’re the soul’s poetry. They speak in images, sensations, and metaphor. And they ask us not to judge, but to listen.

What part of me does this represent?
What wants to be felt, healed, or reintegrated?
What am I being invited to remember?

Erotic dreams are not just about sex. They’re about wholeness. They’re about power reclaimed. They’re about love, sometimes for another, often for the self. And sometimes, they are simply about joy. And that, too, is sacred. So next time your dream lover comes bearing fire, welcome them. Feel what wants to be felt. Honour what wants to be healed. And if you wake with tears, a sigh, or a sweet ache that lingers into the day, know this:

It wasn’t just a dream.
It was a remembering.

📚 Further Reading & Exploration

  1. Robert Moss – Conscious Dreaming
    On dream travel, soul connection, and shared dreaming experiences.
  2. Barbara Brennan – Hands of Light
    A classic text on energy fields, cords, and how emotion/thought affects others.
  3. Anodea Judith – Wheels of Life
    A deep dive into chakras, creative/sexual energy, and inner integration.
  4. Toko-pa Turner – Belonging: Remembering Ourselves Home
    On the sacred art of dreamwork and returning to the soul’s truth.
  5. Clarissa Pinkola Estés – Women Who Run With the Wolves
    Archetypal stories that explore feminine psyche, longing, and reclamation.
  6. Mantak Chia – The Multi-Orgasmic Man/Woman
    Taoist teachings on sexual energy as sacred and transformative force.
  7. Rupert Sheldrake – Morphic Resonance
    A scientific view of non-local connection and shared fields of experience.

© Cheryl O’Connor, 2014 & 2025. All rights reserved.
Please do not reproduce without permission. Sharing with credit and a link is welcome.

•*´☾☆☽`*•

‪🌿 Explore more of my writing, creations, and soul-guided offerings at:

cheoco.net

📖 Read my book, The Promise: A Story of Love & Transformation
Download here

💫 Connect with me on Facebook:
facebook.com/cheococreates

🌕 Ever had a dream that left your soul stirred and your body buzzing?
I’d love to hear. Drop a note in the comments or share this with someone who dreams in symbols too.

FEAR BASED CONDITIONING

We all come with abundant courage, trust and love into this world. As infants, we trust our needs will be met. We’re fed, clothed, sheltered—and, ideally, loved. We play in nature, explore the world with awe, and live in the now. There’s no concept of lack or limitation.

So where does all that innate trust, courage and love go?

It gets smothered, slowly, by a blanket of fear-based conditioning.

“Don’t fall.” “Be careful.” “Don’t climb that.” “Don’t cry.” “Don’t speak to strangers.”

From the moment we begin exploring, we are bombarded with warnings. Many are well-meaning. But the message we receive is that the world is dangerous, our bodies are fragile, and our instincts can’t be trusted. Over time, our nervous systems internalise this. What starts as care becomes caution. What begins as protection becomes suppression. And what once was joy becomes fear.

This conditioning isn’t just psychological—it’s somatic. Repeated warnings trigger the body’s stress response, even when no real danger exists. Studies show that chronic activation of this response in childhood can lead to long-term dysregulation of the nervous system, laying the foundation for anxiety, depression, and autoimmune disorders. (See: Harvard Center on the Developing Child, 2010; Van der Kolk, 2014.)

We learn to mute our natural expressions. To cry quietly. To sit still. To put on masks.

We’re told to leave our feelings at the door. “Be professional.” “Leave your personal stuff at home.”

Yet humans aren’t machines. We carry our emotions, energy, stories and unprocessed grief into every space. Telling someone to leave their pain behind is like asking the ocean not to wave.

So, we cope. We numb. We perform.

We medicate ourselves with coffee, alcohol, sugar, nicotine, binge-watching, overworking—whatever dulls the ache. We long for weekends, dread Mondays, and confuse productivity with purpose. The more we ignore our inner world, the louder our bodies must speak—through illness, fatigue, or emotional outbursts.

This is not living. This is surviving.

And it’s no surprise that disconnection—internally and from others—leads to chronic stress, burnout, and a lack of meaning. As Gabor Maté writes, “When we have been prevented from learning how to say no, our bodies may end up saying it for us.”

Our systems reward burnout. We idolise busyness. We dismiss embodiment and emotional intelligence.

And yet, somewhere deep inside, we remember.

We remember the joy of dancing in the rain, the wonder of staring at clouds, the heartbeat of the earth beneath our bare feet. We remember what it feels like to trust ourselves.

What silences that voice?

Fear.

Fear, like all emotions, is energy. I see it as a contraction, a tightening of energy, whereas love is an expansion, a flow of energy.

When we sit with fear or anxiety, whether in our minds or bodies, it intensifies. We may feel stressed, unable to think clearly, or even slip into panic, neurosis, or paranoia. Fear can also paralyze us, or it may erupt as a reaction. Beneath anger, fear and pain often hide.

When we allow ourselves to fully experience and feel the anger, pain, regret, guilt, or shame that fear has been masking, the fear dissipates, and in its place, courage emerges. Often, this process also brings new insights and solutions that were previously hidden.

Our minds can amplify fear by spinning “what if” scenarios—often imagining outcomes that never come to pass. These imagined fears can cause unnecessary stress and anxiety, especially when they haven’t even materialized.

If we have a wound we’ve been protecting, and something triggers it, the “band-aid” comes off, exposing us to fear again. This can lead to a double layer of fear: the immediate reaction to the trigger and the deeper fear stemming from the original wound—or even multiple past wounds.

Shifting fear is no easy feat, and it can take time. But once we face it, and sit with the pain that lies beneath, fear melts away. In its place, we find love, peace, and clarity.

Fear of rejection. Of being judged. Of not being enough. Of failing. Of not fitting in. Of speaking our truth. Of losing love. Of death.

False Evidence Appearing Real.

Most of what we fear never actually happens. And the few things that do? We survive them. We grow through them. Sometimes, they become the very catalysts that awaken us.

So what if we re-learned how to trust ourselves? What if we began untangling the knots of fear-based conditioning, one thread at a time?

What if we let the grief rise instead of stuffing it down? What if we let our bodies dance when the music moved us? What if we started saying yes to what lights us up and no to what drains us?

This is not naive. It’s necessary.

Life isn’t meant to be a grind. It’s meant to be a creation.

If you’re ready to tear up the script of fear, I have scissors in my kit and a hand to hold. Together, we can unweave the tangle.

With love, C.

References for deeper reading:

  • Bessel van der Kolk, The Body Keeps the Score, 2014
  • Gabor Maté, When the Body Says No, 2003
  • Harvard Center on the Developing Child, “Toxic Stress and Brain Architecture”
  • Peter Levine, Waking the Tiger, 1997
  • Stephen Porges, The Polyvagal Theory, 2011

© Cheryl O’Connor, 2025. All rights reserved. Please do not reproduce without permission. Sharing with credit and a link is welcome.

Killer Stress: How Modern Life is Breaking Us

It seems fairly acceptable in our society these days to accept stress as “normal.” Technology designed to make life easier has, in fact, made life busier, with a constant flow of information, requests, and demands on our time. We live dictated by calendars, bank balances, and the ticking of the clock, numbers we react to as though they were threats.

More and more automated voice options on phones that fail to connect us to an actual human being add to our daily tension, offering less support and more frustration. Time for real food and deep connection shrinks as we all become… “so busy.”

Once, we wrote letters, posted them, and waited. Now, emails ping, and we feel a pressure to respond instantly. It’s not just a pace; it’s a mindset of urgency. Productivity is the new idol, and the pressure to outperform for profit isn’t just found in the workplace, it’s embedded in our nervous systems (Rosen, 2020).

We’re saturated with disasters, grief, and horror from every corner of the globe. Not only is this overwhelming, but our stress response is being constantly triggered by situations we can’t control (Sahakian et al., 2015). Gratitude for safety is real but so is the burden of helplessness. And the truth is: we can always turn it off. But often, we don’t.

The deeper issue is that when we do need to hibernate, retreat, rest, withdraw, we’re told we’re lazy, self-indulgent, or not resilient enough (Biron et al., 2012).

Even our own government has proposed raising the age at which people become eligible for support—further extending the years we’re expected to stay in the workforce. The message is clear: keep working, keep producing, keep pushing. And burnout? That’s just the cost of survival, apparently a cruel irony when burnout is already rampant.

Snappy voices, reactive outbursts, and social disengagement often stem from chronic stress. People aren’t present. They’re time-travelling, replaying the past or pre-living future disasters. And that lack of presence? That’s the real cost (Kabat-Zinn, 2005).

We are not machines. Yet we expect ourselves to operate like them. Even computers need a reboot. When was your last one?

The Myth of Multitasking

One of the greatest myths of modern life is that multitasking makes us more efficient. In reality, the human brain cannot focus on multiple complex tasks at once. We are constantly context-switching, splitting our attention and taxing our cognitive resources (Rosen, 2020). This increases errors, reduces memory recall, and heightens stress.

Multitasking is not mastery. It’s a nervous system constantly being yanked in different directions. No wonder we feel scattered.

Rest as Resistance

There is a growing movement that names rest not as a luxury, but as a form of resistance. Tricia Hersey, founder of The Nap Ministry, reminds us: “Rest is a spiritual practice. Rest is a form of resistance because it disrupts and pushes back against capitalism and white supremacy.”

We are not designed to be endlessly productive. We are cyclical beings, wired to ebb and flow, to rise and retreat. The feminine principle, whether expressed in any gendered body, calls for restoration, reflection, and radical slowness (Hersey, 2022).

Returning to Rhythm

There was a time when our rhythms followed the sun. When life was made, not consumed. When tribe, rest, music, growing, laughing, and storytelling were at the heart of our days.

What we now call “stress” was once a short-term survival response. Adrenaline kicks in when we’re under threat, giving us power to run or fight. It was never meant to be a way of life (McEwen, 2007). Fifteen minutes. That’s the optimal duration of a stress response before the body starts to take damage (Selye, 1976).

But when stress becomes constant? The effects show up in every system of the body: high blood pressure, anxiety, insomnia, digestive disorders, muscle pain, and emotional exhaustion. Stress is not just uncomfortable—it’s biologically destructive. And yet we carry on, until our bodies force us to stop (Sapolsky, 2004; van der Kolk, 2014).

Language That Triggers Stress

Even the language we use is steeped in nervous system activation. We’re “alarmed” out of bed. We hit “panic buttons.” We race to meet “deadlines.” We juggle tasks and “crash” by evening.

Words matter. They shape our perception and perception creates our reality. A slower, kinder vocabulary begins the rewiring process.

Pause Practices

To reclaim the present moment is an act of healing. Here are a few gentle ways to begin:

  1. Hand on Heart – Pause. Breathe. Feel the warmth of your own touch. You’re here.
  2. Barefoot Grounding – Stand on earth. Feel your soles reconnect with soil, sand, stone.
  3. Three Deep Breaths – Inhale through the nose. Exhale through the mouth. Let it go.
  4. Digital Sabbath – Choose one hour, one afternoon, or one day to unplug.

A Story Worth Remembering

There is a story in Women Who Run With the Wolves. You can find it on page 328. The story is called The Three Gold Hairs. It fits extremely well into the scenario of stress in our modern world. We become the old and withered dying man, lost in the dark forest of overwork. Until, finally, we remember. We are human beings, not human doings.

To nurture, to rest, to dream is not laziness. It’s medicine.

And like a steaming apple pie, fresh from the oven, everyone will want a piece of you. Just remember—leave some for yourself. And bake a new one before you run out.

With care,

Cheryl
© Cheryl O’Connor 2025. All rights reserved.

Please do not reproduce without permission. Sharing with credit and a link is welcome.

References

Biron, C., Brun, J. P., & Ivers, H. (2012). Extent and sources of occupational stress in university staff. Work, 42(4), 739–750. https://doi.org/10.3233/WOR-2012-1427

Ellis, A. (1994). Reason and emotion in psychotherapy. Carol Publishing Group.

Estés, C. P. (1992). Women who run with the wolves: Myths and stories of the wild woman archetype. Ballantine Books.

Hersey, T. (2022). Rest is resistance: A manifesto. Little, Brown Spark.

Kabat-Zinn, J. (2005). Coming to our senses: Healing ourselves and the world through mindfulness. Hyperion.

McEwen, B. S. (2007). Physiology and neurobiology of stress and adaptation: Central role of the brain. Physiological Reviews, 87(3), 873–904.

Rosen, L. D. (2020). The distracted mind: Ancient brains in a high-tech world. MIT Press.

Sahakian, B. J., et al. (2015). The impact of neuroscience on society: Cognitive enhancement in neuropsychiatric disorders and in healthy people. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society B, 370(1677), 20140214.

Sapolsky, R. M. (2004). Why zebras don’t get ulcers: The acclaimed guide to stress, stress-related diseases, and coping. Holt Paperbacks.

Selye, H. (1976). The stress of life (Rev. ed.). McGraw-Hill.

van der Kolk, B. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.

Holding Space for Grief: What Helps, What Hurts

Holding Space for Grief: What Helps, What Hurts

Grief shows up in many forms, after death, divorce, disappointment, or even the quiet loss of a future we thought we’d have. When someone we care about is hurting, it’s natural to want to help. But often, the words we reach for can do more harm than good.

Over the years, I’ve experienced my share of deep losses, and along the way, I’ve also heard a few spectacularly unhelpful comments. Well-meaning, perhaps. But misplaced. This article isn’t about judgement. It’s about awareness. If you’ve ever wondered what to say (or not say) to someone grieving, here are some gentle truths I’ve learned, rooted in lived experience, professional insight, and a whole lot of listening.

Grief Isn’t a Problem to Solve

When someone is grieving, whether from the death of a loved one or the breakdown of a meaningful relationship, the last thing they need is to be told to cheer up or get over it. These phrases might be common, but they’re far from kind.

Grief is not a mindset to be fixed. It’s a process that reflects love, attachment, and human depth. The more significant the loss, the longer the integration. And integration, not “getting over it”,is what healing truly looks like (Neimeyer, 2000; Kübler-Ross & Kessler, 2005). Because in truth, there is no “getting over” anything, not really. There is only getting through it, one breath, one memory, one moment at a time.

What Hurts: The Comments That Close the Heart

Here are a few things I’d gently suggest we retire from our vocabulary, especially when someone is hurting:

“Cheer up.” “You’ll just have to get over it.” “You’re just feeling sorry for yourself.” “Everything happens for a reason.” (Sometimes true, rarely helpful in the moment)

These comments, though sometimes offered with the intention of comfort, can feel invalidating and emotionally tone-deaf. They tend to shut people down rather than help them open up. They may even provoke anger, resentment, or withdrawal. As one person put it: “It made me want to give them a right hook.”

Why? Because when someone is grieving, they don’t need fixing. They need witnessing (Wolfelt, 2004).

What Helps: Listening, Presence, and Permission to Feel

Supporting someone in pain doesn’t require special training. You don’t need perfect words. You need your ears, to listen deeply without interruption or correction. Your presence, to let them know they’re not alone. Your arms, to offer a hug, if it’s welcome. That’s it.

Often, simply being with someone as they move through grief is the greatest gift you can give. When we speak our pain aloud, we begin to metabolise it. We don’t need answers, we need space. In fact, speaking allows a person to hear their own thoughts more clearly, and often, to reach their own realisations about what comes next. This is how true empowerment begins (Wolfelt, 2004; Neimeyer, 1999).

Grief Rewrites the Inner World

Grief often rewrites a person’s entire inner landscape. They may no longer feel like themselves. Their sleep may change, their appetite, their energy, their faith in others, or even in life itself. What looks like withdrawal might be someone simply trying to feel safe again in a world that no longer makes sense.

When we recognise that grief is not just emotional but cognitive, physiological, and spiritual, we can meet it with more compassion (Child and Youth Mental Health Service, 2009). Holding space isn’t just kindness, it’s allowing someone to reassemble their world without forcing a timeline.

Advice Isn’t Always Helpful, Even When It Comes From Love

Jumping in with advice, particularly when it’s not been asked for, can disempower the person who is grieving. Even if well-intentioned, it can feel like you’re steering their experience, rather than honouring it.

If you truly want to help someone move through pain, don’t rush to fix it. Don’t offer silver linings too quickly. Don’t confuse your discomfort with their need to be heard. Instead, you might try saying: “I’m here for you.” “This must be so hard, take your time.” “Would it help to talk, or would you prefer some quiet company?”

If they cry, hand them a tissue. Make a cuppa. Let them cry. Please don’t ask, “What’s wrong?”,because nothing is wrong. They’re grieving. They’re releasing. They’re healing (Beyond Blue, 2008).

Grief Isn’t Only About Death

It’s important to remember that grief doesn’t only follow death. It arises any time there is loss of identity, connection, or a sense of safety in the world. That includes: the end of relationships, the loss of a job or financial security, the death of a pet (which can be just as profound as losing a person), a major health diagnosis, moving homes or losing custody of children, the fallout from domestic violence, legal battles, or psychological trauma.

In family law especially, many people walk into a lawyer’s office having already lost so much, stability, trust, dreams for the future. What they need isn’t just legal advice. They need to feel seen as a whole human being.

Too often, lawyers are trained to focus solely on structure, precedent, and outcome. But when someone is living with the aftermath of emotional abuse, violence, or betrayal, those elements, while necessary, are not enough.

As someone who has worked across both legal and therapeutic systems, I offer this gentle reminder to those in the legal field: by the time someone reaches you, their world may have fallen apart. The trauma might not be visible, but it’s often sitting quietly in the room (Jigsaw Counselling, 2013).

You don’t need to be a counsellor. But you can be kind. You can listen just a little longer. You can avoid telling them to “move on” or “stay calm” before you’ve truly heard them out. You can refer them to trauma-informed professionals if they’re struggling to cope.

Your compassion may not be billable time, but it can be unforgettable. Trauma-informed presence matters more than polished technique. You don’t need to have the “right” words, you just need to be safe. Safety isn’t created by silence or solutions; it’s created by consistency, non-judgment, and allowing the person to be exactly where they are. For many, especially those experiencing PTSD, being heard without being redirected or doubted can be the most healing experience of all (Levine, 2010; van der Kolk, 2014).

Different People, Different Grief

Not everyone grieves the same way. Some cry openly, others go quiet. Some seek company, others solitude. Cultural background, personality, upbringing, and trauma history all shape how we move through loss. It’s important we don’t judge someone’s grief by how it looks. Stillness can hold oceans. And silence, sometimes, is survival (Walmsley, 2006).

Grief That Has No Name

Some grief isn’t obvious, like the grief of never having had what one needed. Or the grief that stacks silently after repeated change, instability, or systemic oppression. This is sometimes called disenfranchised grief or ambiguous loss, and it can be just as real and just as painful (Boss, 1999). We must create space for grief in all its forms, not just the ones that come with flowers and casseroles.

Let’s Talk About Bereavement Leave

It still stuns me that most workplace bereavement leave offers just three days, as if losing a child, partner, or parent is a brief interruption to your schedule, rather than a rupture to your entire existence. The expectation to return to “normal” so quickly speaks to how poorly grief is understood in our systems. It’s not just unfair, it’s cruel. Grievers need flexibility, support, and permission to be human. Anything less isn’t productivity, it’s trauma on top of trauma.

If You Are the One Grieving, Please Know This

You are not broken. You are not too sensitive. You are not behind. You are simply walking through the valley of loss. You don’t need to hurry. You don’t need to pretend. There is wisdom in your slowness. There is dignity in your pain. You are already healing, just by feeling.

Final Thoughts: Grief is Not a Detour, It’s a Doorway

We tend to treat grief like an interruption to normal life. But really, it’s a powerful, transformational part of it. So next time someone close to you is hurting, ask yourself: Can I be still enough to let them feel? Can I resist the urge to fix or judge? Can I offer presence, even when it’s messy?

In a world that often rushes past pain, being willing to stay, with honesty and heart, might be the most radical act of kindness we can offer.

Whether you are the one grieving, or the one standing beside someone in grief, thank you for caring. May we all become gentler with what we cannot see. And braver in how we hold one another through the sacred work of being human.

Written by Cheryl O’Connor (originally 2018, revised 2025)
Author | Artist | Holistic Counsellor | Social Worker
Exploring where structure meets soul , through law, healing, and symbolic art.

References

Beyond Blue. (2008). Grief, loss and depression. https://www.beyondblue.org.au
Boss, P. (1999). Ambiguous loss: Learning to live with unresolved grief. Harvard University Press.
Child and Youth Mental Health Service. (2009). Grief and loss fact sheet. Queensland Health.
Jigsaw Counselling. (2013). CHCCS426B Provide support and care relating to grief and loss assessment (V1).
Kübler-Ross, E., & Kessler, D. (2005). On grief and grieving. Scribner.
Levine, P. A. (2010). In an unspoken voice: How the body releases trauma and restores goodness. North Atlantic Books.
Neimeyer, R. A. (1999). Narrative strategies in grief therapy. Journal of Constructivist Psychology, 12(1), 65–85.
Neimeyer, R. A. (2000). Lessons of loss: A guide to coping. McGraw-Hill.
Walmsley, R. (2006). The grief workbook. Children, Youth and Women’s Health Service.
Wolfelt, A. D. (2004). Understanding your grief. Companion Press.
van der Kolk, B. (2014). The body keeps the score. Viking.

© Cheryl O’Connor (Cheoco) 2025. All rights reserved.
This article reflects personal experience, professional insight, and research-based knowledge.
Please share only with full credit and a link back to www.cheoco.com. Not intended as a substitute for professional advice.

THERE’S A FULL MOON RISING

 

🌕 Full Moon Rising: The Emotional Pull of Lunar Cycles

By Cheryl O’Connor · 10 June 2025

A Moment with the Strawberry Moon

On June 11, the full moon will rise over Australia — known in the Northern Hemisphere as the Strawberry Moon, named not for its colour, but for the ripening of fruit that traditionally occurs at this time.

While the name may not reflect our Southern seasons, the energy of this moon still speaks. It carries a frequency of ripening, readiness, and sweet release — a time when what’s been quietly growing beneath the surface reaches its moment of fullness.

Astrologically, this full moon rises in Sagittarius — the seeker, the truth-teller, the horizon-walker. It invites us to look honestly at what’s come to completion, what beliefs or burdens are ready to be shed, and where our deeper alignment is calling us next.

This isn’t a moon for force or striving.
It’s a moon for tuning in.
For honouring what is quietly asking to be released.

What truth is ripening in you?
What’s ready to fall from the branch, and nourish something new?

This full moon, I’ll be tending the fire of stillness. Dream-listening. Letting the symbols speak.

The Moon, the Body, and the Emotional Landscape

Have you ever noticed your emotions rising to the surface, your sleep thinning, or your dreams becoming more vivid as the full moon draws near?

You’re not alone.

The moon governs the tides. And just as the ocean swells under her pull, so too, many of us feel subtle — or not-so-subtle — waves rising within. Our emotional waters stir. Our subconscious speaks more loudly. Our nervous systems become more sensitive.

Across cultures, the moon has long been associated with the Divine Feminine — intuitive, cyclical, nurturing. In some Indigenous traditions, a woman’s menstrual cycle was known as her “moon time,” often syncing with the full moon. During this phase, women would retreat to Moon Lodges to rest, to dream, and to replenish — a space of reverence, not retreat.

Today, many of us have lost that rhythm. We’re encouraged to override our cycles — to push through, to stay productive, to disconnect from the body’s quiet wisdom.

Yet the body, like the Earth, keeps time. And the moon still speaks.

“There is a tide in the affairs of men…”
Shakespeare wrote — and perhaps he was more literal than we’ve realised.

Science Catches Up with the Moon

Modern studies are beginning to validate what ancient cultures always knew.

A 2021 study in Science Advances found that people — even in urban settings — tend to fall asleep later and sleep less in the days leading up to the full moon, suggesting our circadian rhythms are still sensitive to lunar light and gravitational cycles (Casiraghi et al., 2021).

And in Frontiers in Endocrinology, researchers observed that menstrual cycles longer than 27 days may occasionally sync with lunar phases — particularly in women under 35 and in those less exposed to artificial light at night (Helfrich-Förster et al., 2021).

This may explain why, even in our hyper-lit, hyper-busy modern lives, so many of us feel the tug of the moon. It’s not superstition. It’s biological. Emotional. Rhythmic. Real.

A Gentle Invitation

If your sleep has been strange…
If your dreams have been louder…
If your heart feels like it’s carrying more than usual…

You’re not broken. You’re in rhythm.

This full moon, I’m choosing rest over resistance. Listening over logic. Letting the wave move through.
If something has been stirring in your sleep or spirit, I’d love to hear what’s rising for you, too.

– Cheryl O’Connor
Author | Artist | Holistic Counsellor | Social Worker
Exploring where structure meets soul — through law, healing, and symbolic art.

🔍 References

Casiraghi, L., Spiousas, I., Dunster, G. P., McGlothlen, K., Fernandez-Duque, E., Valeggia, C., & de la Iglesia, H. O. (2021). Moonstruck sleep: Synchronization of human sleep with the moon cycle under natural conditions. Science Advances, 7(5), eabe1358. https://doi.org/10.1126/sciadv.abe1358

Helfrich-Förster, C., Monecke, S., Spiousas, I., Hovestadt, T., Mitesser, O., & Wehr, T. A. (2021). Women temporarily synchronize their menstrual cycles with the luminance and gravimetric cycles of the Moon. Science Advances, 7(5), eabe1358. https://doi.org/10.1126/sciadv.abe1358

Note: These two studies were published under the same issue and DOI grouping in Science Advances due to their related chronobiological focus.

© Cheryl O’Connor, 2025. All rights reserved.
Please do not reproduce without permission. Sharing with credit and a link is welcome.

#FullMoon #StrawberryMoon #Dreaming #LunarEnergy #DivineFeminine #Symbolism #MoonWisdom #MoonCycles #ConsciousLiving #Cheoco