Medusa I Hear You Calling



Deep, deep, deep, pain.

So deep that only the bravest will go.

Its hard to breath this deep.

Its hard to move this deep.

Its hard to just BE THIS DEEP.



I remember that I cried and wailed

and gave my pain to GAIA,

asking for re-birth again and again.

I will do this again,

and again and again.

Re-birthing, re-birthing, re-birthing,

its hypnotic rhythm a luscious siren song.


Medusa, I hear you calling.

I am awaiting your devour,

your anhilation of all that does not serve.

Chew me up and spit me out,

let all your enzymes change me.

What remains is my alchemy,

the Changeling I am to become.


New and dripping with life,

a prism of sun and liquid on a crystalline wing.

I arch my back as I await your arrival,

death and birth being one and the same,

so that each death is followed by the peace of emergence.

Medusa, I hear You calling.


April Aronoff


Addiction and Higher Self, A One Act Play


“Happy Feasting!” says Addiction, as it tips its head back to get ready for a good dose of shame and self beratement.

“Wait!” says Higher Self, putting the breaks on Addiction mid-air.  “Isn’t this supposed to be a comedy?”

“Says who?”  huffs Addiction, suddenly becoming very large.

The two stare at each other intently for what seems like eternity.

And then finally the sound was heard throughout the land, like a trumpet announcing a Royal Queen:

(Insert loud, resonant Laughter).

 The End


April Aronoff

Roses, Beauty and Mother Mary


These are the last of my roses, picked two days ago on 12/7/16.  We are at the start of winter in northern California, with rain and cold lingering these past few weeks.  I am amazed that any of my plants are still producing in December, but that is the blessing now, isn’t it?


I am utterly in love with roses.  You can take one look and see why; they are astonishingly beautiful.  Beauty has been a recurring theme for me.  It’s definition has expanded remarkably, as I have now experienced beauty on many different levels; I see, smell, feel and taste beauty.  It takes my breath away when I am in its presence, and my heart fills with such joy and gratitude for this connection.


I can always relay on my roses to bring me beauty.  These last few flushes have been stunning, and I am completely honest when I say that smelling the above bouquet brought me to a place within beauty that I can only describe as pure grace.   I am under the  spell of the Rose, I admit it freely!.  I am a Rose Addict.


Which brings me to Mother Mary, whose list of symbols includes the Rose.  When I read about why The Rose is Her symbol, it is explained that Roses are the Queen of Flowers, and Mother Mary is the Queen of Heaven and Earth.  They are both Queens!  But I feel there is more than that.  The frequency and vibration of the Rose can heal the body and soul deeply, as well as its physical nutritive properties.  For me Mother Mary is the ultimate loving mother, one who both dissolves pain and nourishes with love.  Roses and Mother Mary heal and fill the soul with love.  They are that kind of energy, and why I see Them as One.


In the name of The Rose,

April Aronoff

December 2016 Flower Bowl/The Incredible Magic of Beauty

Boy these days are tough.  My connection with spirit is what’s keeping me sane;  meditating, listening, declaring my sovereignty over and over.  Refusing to walk in the shadow of  I Am Worthless.

Today was particularly hard.  I felt lethargic and slow to take care.  Slow too engage in the practices that I knew would empower me.  And as I teetered on the brink of giving in, letting it win, letting the I Am Worthless seep into my skin, I laid my eyes on THIS.  And I Am Worthless began to promptly liquify.



What I saw was beauty.  The kind of Beauty that takes your breath away, that connects every fiber of your being with utter bliss.  It’s just that spectacular.  And being so steeped in Beauty, in that moment, so utterly in love, well, that leaves no room for feeling unworthy.  What I felt in that moment was Beauty.   And it made my heart sing.

May I cherish and remember this always 🙂


img_4676I am hoping to have this wall finished soon!

Much radiance,

April Aronoff

Altars, Knowing, and Transformation


I’ve decided to embark on a voyage of the soul.  As I continue to struggle with my feelings of anxiety and irritability, I find myself reaching deeper and deeper into the well of my spiritual tool bag.  What I find never ceases to amaze me.  Last week my boys had another huge blow out fight.  At times it gets so ugly, with my husband and I struggling to stay cool, sane, and in control.  In all honesty we’ve lost it ourselves more than once.

The next day I sat in the garden, feeling pretty lousy about my family life. I began to hold a small bundle of wisteria branches I had collected to make a magic wand.  They were long but thin, the perfect size for a wand.  I added some sweet smelling lavender that had already bloomed and dried.  The combination was pure beauty J  Then the knowing came:  Make an altar for your family.   Feed this altar, pray to it.  Call in your ancestors, all of them.  Call in all the guides that are there to help each of you.

So I did just this.  I made a beautiful altar on my dresser.  Here is a picture of it when I first began, many days ago:


I let the flow and set up of the altar come from within.  Each of the corner stones represent the four of us in our family, and I when I feel moved (or desperate) I work with the stones to heal us on a spiritual-soul level.  It’s been beautiful and empowering to work with family healing this way.  Smudging, prayer, magic.  Bathing in the full moon.  I never fail to find grace when I am engaging in these practices.  I need to do them more.

As I gazed upon the beautiful creation that was a living intention of healing in my family, I closed my eyes and began to see.

What I saw was Me, as full of anxiety as I was in that moment.  And the anxiety was everywhere.  And the spirit me that I saw so clearly felt it to.  Then I dropped away and it was just Her. Me, on a soul level.  And She began to take big, deep, breathes.  Inhaling deep, going all the way to the spine, the back of the heart opening like a flower at the end of each inhale.  Exhaling slow.  This became the rhythm that began to flow.  And one by one each of my children joined Me, holding hands together and breathing deep.  My husband arrived and made us complete.  The 4 of us forming a circular wave of rising and falling chests as we held hands and breathed.  I felt the liquid peace seep into the farthest crevices of my anxiety, transforming the feelings of desperation and loathing into something entirely at peace.   It was truly amazing, this transformation.  I went from feeling like our family was a battleground to one of serenity.  I came out of this mediation feeling at ease.  Then I went and got my boys and actually had something resembling a peaceful evening.

A few days later I added a picture of my husband and myself, to honor our own healing as a couple.  Fresh rose petals have been added many times, along with prayers, meditation, and an anointing with rose essential oil, one drop on the rose quartz heart that sits in the center of us.

Here is a picture from today, after having been fed flowers.


This practice has been going on now for almost 2 weeks.  I am grateful that I have documented this journey, because I have experienced more than a few emotional dips since it first began.

And as I re-read my own story, this is what I wish for myself:

May I remember this moment of healing whenever I find I have lost my way.

May I remember that magic lies within me.

May I remember that moments are never ending, and there is always tomorrow.

Peace 🙂

April Aronoff

The Ramblings of a Rose


I am doing some serious work of late.  I am bumping up my energy work to a level I never imagined.  Yet I have questions.  Two years ago I learned that I was the Keeper of Rose Oil, whose council is to surrender to unconditional love.  It was an intense time, cultivating in a kind of break down that forced me to examine myself deeply.  While I loved that I was Rose, was unconditional love and beauty, I couldn’t extend this toward myself.  I remember being filled with grief and anxiety that felt as ancient as the oldest stone on Earth.  It ran from the depths of my insides to every inch of skin.  I was very far from unconditional love.


Now I am here.  Standing at the precipice of change, staring at the giant open endless sky, the blushest of Rose colored clouds beckoning for me to jump.  I know I have crossed the threshold.  While I still struggle with anxiety and depression, I am also beginning to embody the Frequency of the Rose.  It’s been a wild ride from that dark place I was 2 years ago to where I am now.   And so my question is this:  Is it possible to be the Keeper of the Rose, whose sole purpose is to vibrate the highest frequency of love known in any realm, when my heart is filled with pain daily?  How can I be wielding such tremendously challenging feelings while simultaneously activating the highest frequency of love throughout my body?  Yet it is happening.  I am being told my hands are activated, that I am to run the energy of the Rose through them, to shower others in love and light and healing and peace.  This I feel in so many parts of my body.  Yet my heart runs heavy.

I am also told to use my hands on my own body to heal  🙂


Its been 5.5 months since I’ve have gone off of anti-depressants.  I felt so much better on them, yet a huge part of me was numb and shut down, and had been this way since early childhood.  I badly want to stay off them, to allow the Shakti energy that has been latent rise to the surface and set me free.  Yet some days I’m not sure I can do it.  This type of medicine was beneficial for so long.  It allowed me to chill out and relax an already highly stressed out nervous system.  I was far from perfect, but physically I felt much better.  So it sounds a bit crazy that I want to stay off these meds.  Yet I feel I am meant to peel away the layers of these intense, dark emotions of mine.  To understand and heal what is really at their core.  I’m sure my body chemistry is legitimately wonky.  But underneath lay something that is waiting for healing. Something old and primal and dark.  It is this that I seek.


I recently participated in an ancestor healing ritual in my backyard.  My backyard is my temple space, and it is sacred to me.  Many of my roses are planted back here, along with a variety of medicinal plants, totems and garden art.  The ceremony was during the Full Moon.  I stayed up all night feeding the fire, making offerings of liquor and coffee throughout the night.  I would take a giant swig of liquor and spray it on the pictures of ancestors encased in plastic bags for protection.  These lay on the altar along with other sacred offerings.  And I thought about them, and sang to them, and softly asked that they cross, so that they can move on to what’s next in their evolution.  Some of them did.  And some of the pain and burden that we in my line had been carrying for all these years, well that just lifted.  The pain was healed as they were healed.  Lately it feels like I am growing new skin.  It’s been a wild month, to say the least.


April Aronoff


Avoid Dance, A Poem


I have been avoiding for some time.  At first the avoidance was at a distance, a good 10 feet apart, and I could dance with it, entertain myself with its magnetic need to look away.

Then avoidance grew closer, quiet sometimes, noisy at others.  Its need to bow down, bow out, keep moving, keep busy, lest the pain consume, consume, consume, a steady pulsing river pulling me along for the ride.

Until it was touching me, running its fine silky fingers along my skin, settling in like netting on a fish, a blanket of constrained movement and form like a second skin.

The avoidance a thrashing, shrill voice, demanding I don’t look, don’t explore, don’t do anything, DON’T FEEL ANYTHING.

The irony is that at its core avoidance is pain.  The very thing avoidance has tried to keep me from.

Now it is so close I must look it in the eye, its iris an angry blaze of electric fire, and I know there is no turning back.  I am either going to let this beast consume, or I will hold its pain in my loving embrace.

And just look




And of course,




April Aronoff

Finding My Universal Wink

I came home from a 3 week vacation to find my snapdragon in a loving embrace with my Budda.


Snapdragons represent grace and inner strength, while the Budda is the Master of Serenity.  I am an avid gardener, on a mission to create a healing space in my yard.  Yet I struggle with my path, where I place my feet, the direction I am headed.  The Budda enveloped with the snapdragon is the Universe winking at me, smiling upon me, letting me know that where I find 1  aspect of this trio (grace, serenity, inner strength), the other 2 are sure to follow.  That finding such peace is only a gaze, a breath, a moment away.




Perhaps I will find more Universal Winks.

Namaste 🙂

April Aronoff








A Letter From Shakti


This came up during ceremony, a letter from Shakti to me.


I am grit.

I am pure, raw energy.

I rage

I create

I pulse

I claw

I scream

I dig

I bury

I gestate

I birth

I howl

I taste

I hear.


All of the pleasure

All of the pain.


I see

I feel

I love

I orgasm

I desire

I burst

I pleasure

I fuck

I don’t give a fuck

I create

I mix

I alchemize

I magnetize.


I am one with nature

The dirt

The green.


I relish

I sweat

I am water

I am bones

I am preverbal

I have no language

I am raw, animal instinct

I follow my desire

fuel my intention










I climb, claw, ascend

Up from the Earth

Into you

You are my home




April Aronoff


The Forgotten Sense/Poem To My Yoni



You have forgotten me

shut me out

put up yellow tape,


“No trespassing,”

“Do not enter.”


Entangled vines

high frequency cries

from unknown creatures

dwelling inside.

An eco-system pulsing and untouched.


I spread my legs wide

and peer inside

and gasp at the

light within me.

 Pearly walls

butterfly wings

lotus lips.

A rabbit hole leading somewhere

I can imagine in my mind,





I was born with you

and I will die with you.

Whole cultures rally shame

around your very existence.

But you are simply

just another part of me,

like a finger

a tongue

an eye.

Tools I would never consider disregarding,

so why do I disregard you?


If I can touch

and taste

and see,

why should I deny

that which is my life-force,

my birthright?


The forgotten sense,

That’s what you are.

A sense I know only

the barest surface of.


Slowly, I remove the tape.



April Aronoff