Receiving, Under the Taurus Moon

Slowing down.

Connecting with the earth instead of man-made distractions.

Using my hands.

Breathing deeper.

Getting grounded.

I put my bare feet in the earth and ask my body to guide me. I notice a headache. I notice my throat feels tight. So I put on a face mask. I rest. I stay quiet. My breathing is shallow, so I breathe into my third chakra, expand my heart, elongate my spine.

I see how I’ve been running from creating and expressing by filling myself up with other people’s creations—podcasts, Instagram inspiration, books. The quick dopamine hits keep me from sitting with my own feelings.

At the root of it: my feminine side doesn’t feel safe enough to truly relax. The back-to-school chaos, lack of rhythm, and absence of structure is blaring in my face. My stomach tenses. My shoulders cave. I protect my heart. I don’t feel safe. I get resentful. My nervous system stays in fight-or-flight.

I notice the moment everyone else in the house wakes up, my body tightens. I don’t feel graceful or feminine or able to nurture anyone. There’s no equilibrium. No real communication. No one asking how I’m doing as preschool begins. I’ve always been the one who can do it all—multitask, manage, keep it moving—until I hit the wall and finally have to ask for help. But this isn’t the way I want to live.

If I slow down, it becomes obvious: I don’t feel supported or safe. That’s hard to admit, and even harder to ask for. It’s exhausting knowing I need new rhythms and boundaries. I avoid talking to Spencer because I don’t want to fight. Where he moves like the flowy Pisces he is, I need a container to feel safe. I’m not sure I trust he can hold that.

The roles of male/female, father/mother in a modern household feel blurry. Who cooks? Who does dishes when we’re both working? The sigh comes from deep in my chest.

So, Taurus is here to remind me: slow down. Feel all of it. Be the Emily I want to be in this moment. Breathe in, expand out, stay in my heart. Let go of the stubborn bull-wall and admit what’s real—that I need containers and rhythms to hold the flow.

Maybe Taurus is also whispering: simplify. Simple meals. No over-achieving in the kitchen. Back to beautiful basics—nourishing vegetables, fruits, beans, and rice. A variety of dressings and sauces. Slow down and enjoy it.

Today I’ll wear green to channel Taurus’ grounding energy. Maybe sky blues, maybe earth browns.

Journal prompts from the bull:

• Is there something generous I can do for someone else today?

• What am I truly grateful for right now?

• What will I do to connect with the earth and feel grounded?

This writing has been grounding. Maybe I’ll burn sage or cedar around the house, clearing the space for the Taurus calm to settle in.