Embodied Explorations: a ritual for changing times
Sensorial ritual for courage and clarity.
This column began with the following questions: What balms can I offer in times of chaos? What joy or tenderness can I infuse that still grounds us in political awareness but feels beautiful and poetic? These are curated sensorial rituals that I have prepared for you with a theme in mind. They contain a mix of my research, the exercises I propose in my workshops, and years of trial and error. Essentially, I am sharing the ways in which I myself have found ground in times of turmoil. This column is usually for paying subscribers but today it feels necessary to offer it to everyone.
Lately, elders have come into my life to provide guidance and I am so grateful for it. A person that is deeply impacting my life is Margaret Wheatley who, through her incredible wisdom, has provided some very important balms.
We’re not just in transition, we’re in the tearing. As Gramsci said,“the old world is dying and the new cannot be born; now is the time of monsters.” And as Margaret Wheatley teaches, this is also the age of Choice, a moment where we must decide who we are willing to become.
This week witnessed thousands of people march the streets in Los Angeles calling for an abolition to ICE, Immigration and Customs Enforcement, a federal agency known for detaining, deporting, and separating families, often with violent and dehumanising tactics. People are protesting the systemic criminalisation of migration, the warehousing of human beings in detention centres, and a larger machinery of state violence rooted in white supremacy and xenophobia. Galvanised by anger but driven by love, this is a refusal to accept cruelty as policy, a demand for care, sanctuary, and freedom for all. This week we also saw the courageous act of 12 humanitarians who sailed towards Gaza on the Freedom Flotilla to deliver aid, in protest of the Israeli blockade and forced famine of Palestinian civilians. These are choices of care and courage.
I believe courage is something you gain through love, the word itself says so: in Italian, it comes from cor—the word for heart.
To have courage is, quite literally, to go back to the heart.
The Age of Choice requires deep reflection and clarity, so I created this short embodied exploration for you to take some time to do exactly that. Today is also a full moon, so a great time to dedicate to ritual (but if you are reading this later, any time is ok)
May it serve you in exactly the way you need.
With love,
Vi
Gentle Disclaimer:
This exploration includes suggestions for herbal tea and essential oils offered in the spirit of care and grounding. Please remember that every body is different—if you are pregnant, nursing, have allergies, are taking medications, or have underlying health conditions, consult with a healthcare professional before using herbs or essential oils. Use mindfully and at your own discretion.
Let this be a practice of self-tending, not self-harm. Trust your body. Go slow. You know best.
What you need: pen, paper, herbs, a cup, essential oils (optional)
Tea for Threshold
1 tsp Lemon balm (soothes and uplifts the anxious heart)
1 tsp Tulsi (Holy Basil) (adrenal support, clarity in chaos)
1/2 tsp Chamomile (for grief and exhaustion)
1/2 tsp Rose petals (opens the heart gently)
Pinch of Mugwort (visionary, boundary-crossing, for dreamers and diviners)
Optional: a sliver of fresh ginger (to keep your inner fire lit)
Steep for 8–10 minutes. Sip slowly before the ritual or during journaling.
Smell:
These are root + crown smells. Together, they ground and elevate.
3 drops Vetiver (earth, grief, roots, body)
2 drops Frankincense (spirit, ancient breath, prayer)
Optional: 1 drop Spikenard (death, silence, sacred surrender)
Place this in a diffuser, or mixed with a carrier oil for your wrists/heart:
Journaling Prompts (inspired by Margaret Wheatley + radical witnessing)
On a piece of paper, reflect on these prompts:
What is dying in the world—and what part of me wants to die with it?
Where have I chosen numbness over truth? What would it mean to feel again?
Where am I being called to stay, even when it hurts?
What have I seen recently that still makes me believe in people?
What part of me is ungovernable? And how can I protect it?
Let the answers be unfinished, raw, and contradictory.
Next, take a fresh piece of paper. In it write…
I release…
I let go of…
List the things you want to release and let go of in order to step into this time of change and courage.
After, go outside.
Stand beneath the moon.
Read it aloud.
Then burn it—safely, slowly.
Optional: whisper this:
“Ashes return to earth. I remain, softened and sovereign.”
Play this playlist throughout the ritual if you like.
Thank you x100 <3
This was exactly what I needed 🙏🏽