We believe we are choosing. But most often, we are repeating.
Only a small percentage of our decisions arise from the conscious mind, that brilliant neocortex we so often rely on to make sense of things. But beneath that sliver of awareness lives a deeper terrain: the unconscious, shaped before we even had language. We are woven in the womb, absorbing the emotional weather of our parents, the unspoken griefs of our ancestors, the longing, silence, or resilience that formed the sap of our family tree.
Before we are born, we are already remembering. Memory lives not just in stories, but in tissue. Passed down through fascia, blood, breath, tone, and gaze. And it stays with us, until we are ready to meet it.
Through spiritual practice, through altered states of consciousness, through breathwork, plant medicine, yoga, or deep meditation, something begins to shift. The fascia of the body, and the fascia of the heart, loosens. What has been held down begins to rise. We feel, not because we’re weak, but because something inside us is willing to be whole.
This remembering is not just intellectual. It is somatic. It is emotional. It is spiritual. It invites us into a process of distillation, a necessary shedding of what is not ours, so that we can finally meet what is. And with that meeting, comes the capacity to choose. To begin again.
In my own journey, I’ve come to understand that death does not follow life, it accompanies it. With every release of a false story, with every letting go of an inherited pattern, we face a small death. And in those quiet moments, I have seen how little remains. Nothing but consciousness, unconditioned, clear, and deeply alive.
We are each shaped by what a spiritual teaching calls the four karmas: the geographical karma of where we are born, the terrestrial karma of the time we’re born into, the inherited karma of our ancestral line, and the personal karma of our soul’s blueprint. Each of these influences carries both weight and wisdom. They are not punishments, they are coordinates. But if we don’t engage with them consciously, they become cycles. Fixed patterns. Loops of repetition.
In astrology, the four fixed signs | Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, and Aquarius, form what is known as the fixed cross. Each sign corresponds to one of the four elements: earth, fire, water, and air. These signs, like the karmas, stabilize our experience. Taurus roots us in the material world, Leo lights the fire of our creativity, Scorpio holds the depths of emotional lineage, and Aquarius carries our individual gift in the winds of collective evolution. But if the cross remains still, it holds us in place. It becomes a grid, not a gateway. That’s why the cross must spin. It is only in motion that the spiral is born, and the spiral is the true path of transformation.
To know your birth chart is not to lock yourself into a fate. It is to recognize your anchors, and to learn how to turn them into thresholds. The chart shows us where the tree has rooted itself in us. And it also shows us how we might rise. This process is not about blame. It’s not about judging our ancestors or our lineage. It’s about discernment, a loving gaze toward what was given, and the clarity to choose what flows forward. We are the alchemists of our own becoming. And that becoming requires compassion, devotion, and the freedom to say: this story ends with me.
To become the author of your own journey is to listen to what has shaped you, and then, with reverence, to write something new.
Have you ever wondered about the memories passed down to you during your gestation? The emotions, beliefs, and silences your mother carried while you formed inside her body, and even further back, what your grandmother imprinted as she gestated your mother, with the seed of you already quietly present inside? This is the path of the yin: the silent reserve, the dark fertile soil, the force of nourishment, belonging, and receptivity. It holds us. It shapes us. And at times, it withholds, not as punishment, but as invitation.
Take time to sit with the woman who gave you life, if it’s possible — or with her memory, her story, her essence. Ask the questions that were never spoken. Listen for the ones that never had words. Get to know the story before you were born. That is where the roots begin. And from that knowing, a new spiral can rise.
Embodied Teaching
The PDF companion invites you into a ritual of roots and remembrance. Through elemental journaling and plant allies, you will touch the threads of inheritance and transform them into living growth.
