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The Simplicity of Being
A Dark Moon reflection on retreat, aliveness, and the devotion of trusting my cycles
Dear wild-hearted wanderer,
Today’s letter is part of my monthly, or should I say, moonthly reflections. In this one, I want to share insights from the Dark Moon-New Moon we’ve recently passed through and some wisdom from my 12th House Leo season.
First of all, I want to say thank you, Leo season, for the wisdom you bring year after year. This year was no different and I feel like I am slowly learning to honour what you’re here to teach me.
I hope it’s offered you some potent lessons of your own.

This time, Leo season carried me deeper into my body, especially into the rhythm of its cycles. And Virgo New Moon arrived just as my own body reset its cyclical rhythm. It felt like a reminder that discernment itself is cyclical — that our energy is not meant to remain constant.
We all live within cycles, whether they rise through the body, the moon, or the seasons. There are times for pouring outwards, and there are times for going inward, when even the smallest no can feel devotional.
For me, one of those no’s has been softening my old tendency to push my body through workouts when my body actually calls for rest. In the past, I treated movement as something to push through no matter what. This cycle, I wholly honoured my body’s quieter energy and reached instead for nourishing practices like yin yoga, meditation, and simple stillness.
What I discovered is that these softer forms of movement don’t diminish my “results”; they deepen my ability for self-intimacy and tenderness. They remind me that devotion also shows up in gentleness just as much as it shows up in our more outward expression.
Retreat, too, has its own medicine. That’s if we’re willing to step into it fully. And this Leo season has truly helped me rewrite my contract with visibility: allowing myself to take time away unapologetically, with no pressure and no expectations.
For much of my adult life and childhood to some degree, visibility has always provided me with a sense of safety and belonging. To be seen has always felt like proof that I mattered and that I wouldn’t be forgotten. Even though being seen for the real me also came with certain protective strategies. I would always feel the need to put up a front.
So I learned to show up and perform the me everyone expected, even when I didn’t want to. I learned to push words out of my throat when my sacral had nothing to say. I learned to perform presence in order to feel safe. I learned to smile even when I felt like frowning. I learned to push through the pain because showing up meant that I mattered, that I was committed.
But what this cycle has shown me is that safety doesn’t actually come from being visible all the time.
It comes from honouring the body’s signals,
even when they may lead us into silence.
Over these past weeks, I’ve been saying no in ways both small and profound.
I’ve said no to things big and small that didn’t spark aliveness.
I’ve said no to the impulse to post simply for the sake of staying relevant.
I’ve said no to the subtle pressure to prove that I am still here, still creating, still producing.
And in each no, I’ve felt a deepening of self-trust. I’ve embraced the mere simplicity in being.
Goodness, how often do we simply allow ourselves to be without any plans or goals or expectations? Not very often, right? Even a 10-minute corpse pose at the end of my Yin Yoga practice has a way of activating my sympathetic state because my mind often tells me it’s not productive enough. That I could simply stop the practice here and it wouldn’t matter. Who would know?
I would!
The truth within it all I’m landing on is that there is nothing honourable about self-abandonment. There is no prize for the ones pushing the hardest or shouting the loudest.
Saying yes when my body contracts might keep me visible for a moment, but it erodes my power. It teaches me that external validation is more important than my inner truth. And I am so done with that old story. I am done expecting myself to show up the same all year round.
So this Leo season has been a practice of rewriting that old contract. Silence doesn’t make me disappear. When I listen to my sacral, I always know where to place my energy. And in that retreat there is medicine. There is deep-rooted self-trust.
The liberation in experiencing this shift has surprised me. Without the constant pull to share, prove, and show up for the sake of visibility, I feel clearer about what actually matters right now. My energy wants to be poured into the aliveness of my creative process around my various projects. Everything else feels secondary. And for the first time, I’ve allowed myself to honour that without apology.
Retreat has also offered me liberation from constant consumption. I found myself getting lost in the noise and I struggled to hear my own truth amongst it all. Silence has also offered me spaciousness from needing to be heard. And within that, I’ve discovered that my voice becomes more potent when I don’t scatter it everywhere and discern where I actually want to direct it and when.
This is the medicine Leo season has gifted me this time around: a reminder that my cycles are trustworthy. That retreat is as valuable as forward motion. And that saying no is a way of saying yes to myself.
So if you’ve been feeling the tug to pause and retreat, to consume less and listen to your own truth a bit more — this is your permission slip. Remember, whilst you’re in that retreat, you will not be forgotten, you will not disappear. In fact, your channel will become more clear which means your frequency will vibrate with more potency and attract those it’s meant to.
And now, with the Virgo New Moon just passed, I have a gentle dare for you. This week, or perhaps even this Virgo season, I dare you to cultivate your capacity in saying no. This could be something small you tend to habitually say yes to. I know for me it’s often my scrolling habit and Leo season really brought it into focus. Or it could be pushing through something that your body doesn’t actually have energy for.
I dare you to honour that no, however small or insignificant it may seem. And I invite you to notice how your body feels after you’ve claimed it.
The real invitation here is to cultivate discernment and devotion in your everyday life. Something Virgo knows well.
And do let me know what you say no to! I’d love to honour that with you.
Til next time,
Silvia
If you feel called to explore your own cycles of energy more deeply, this is the heart of what we do together in Your Living Bodygraph Map. It’s a space to meet yourself through the rhythm of your design, your body, and your nervous system — and to remember that your truth is already alive within you.
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