This isn’t a retreat. In the typical sense.

You may or may not have been to a retreat. They typically last a couple of days to a week, you connect, you cry, you laugh, and it honestly feels amazing.

Then you fly or drive home. The sensation of connecting is carried in your body for a week, maybe two, glowing a little, different in a way you can feel but can’t quite name to the people who didn’t go. And then the random Tuesday happens. Things begin to go back to “normal.” Life begins to happen with the grocery list, things demanding your attention, and the thousand small tasks of an everyday life that was never built to hold what you touched living in community. And slowly, quietly, without ever deciding to let it go, the communal living experience is let go.

Feral Remembering is not that.

I am asking you, and the other 12 women, to hold space for an entire year. This is long enough for something to actually root. This is us holding space for an entire 13 lunar cycles, to hold space for the whole year of seasons. For us to go deeper, with each visit, rather than just getting to the surface of everything. I am asking you to carve out the time to create a community of women, who will do embodied, feral remembering together.

If you know that something is wrong, and maybe you have known for years.

Maybe your blood work comes back normal and you still feel like your body is at war with you.

Maybe you have done therapy, yoga, supplements, have the morning routine, and you still wake up at 3am with your heart pounding for no reason you can name. Or maybe you can name it, but it fills your body with dread, grief, and rage.

Maybe you have cried at things that seemed disproportionate to the people around you, like a documentary, a walk in the woods, a full moon, and quietly wondered if something was wrong with you.

Nothing is wrong with you. You are not broken. You were severed, and your body has been telling you the truth about it this whole time.

What actually changes with Feral Remembering?

You will not just get more information. You most likely have a bookshelf full of information.

What changes is remembering. This is not about intellectually doing another thing. This is about being in your body, on land, with other women who are done pretending they are fine too. Allowing this to unravel, root, and remember across a full year, held by a rhythm older than anything we have available in a typical retreat space. We will be utilizing eight gatherings turning with the spiral of the year, thirteen moons carrying us between them.

The shape of the year

Thirteen women move through this year on the land. Not an accident that it matches the thirteen moons, this circle is built the same way the year turns. We will move through the 8 seasonal shifts of the Spiral of the Year, meeting physically to practice, be seen, heard, and create intimacy. Then we will gather virtually each new moon and full moon, to expand upon our understandings, diving deeper into the practices of ancient knowing and skills.

Spiral of the Year

This container is built on the same structure as the book each woman receives when she joins, “Remembering: The Mystical Nature of the Sacred Embodied Human Animal.” The book is not supplemental reading. It is the map. The eight immersions are the territory the map describes, walked in a body, on land, in real time, instead of read about from a chair.

Between each immersion, the deconstruction chapters do their work in a space that allows for it to be integrated, at home, in your own hands, so that what gets excavated in a book doesn’t need to be re-excavated in person. What happens on the land is the living half of the spiral. What happens in the book is the half that makes the living half possible.

The Eight Physical Gatherings

What we practice

We eat seasonally, exactly as the land provides.

Some gatherings are full of abundance. Lughnasadh will feed you from the first harvest. Others ask something different of you, February may be little more than squash, root vegetables, and bone broth, because that is what the earth is actually offering in that moment, not what a caterer can source. This is not deprivation. This is alignment. Your body learns what it feels like to eat the truth of a season instead of eating in spite of it.

We move like animals, not like exercisers.

Walking fallen logs. Using the natural obstacles already on the land instead of equipment built to simulate them. Presence and awareness over performance. This is not a workout. It’s a remembering of how a body that trusts itself actually moves.

We do rage work.

Embodiment instead of dissociation. Most of us were trained to leave our bodies the moment real feeling arrived. Here, anger gets a body to move through instead of a story to explain it away.

We hold each other, without losing ourselves in each other.

This is interdependent, not codependent. You will be held. You will also hold. No one here, including your guide, is exempt from being witnessed in her own unraveling.

We look at our own foundations through a different lens entirely.

Not what’s wrong with you as a civilized, colonized person trying to optimize her dysfunction. What’s true about you as a sacred embodied animal who was never broken to begin with. That shift alone creates new neurological pathways, a different relationship to your own history than the one you’ve been working from your whole life.

We create.

Each woman brings her own expression, her own passion, her own particular creativity into this space, and is met there, heard, fed, nourished, not managed into a shared format.

Sobriety is required

Every woman in this circle must be sober for every immersion. No coffee. No alcohol. No tobacco. No THC. No mushrooms. No other substances altering your body or mind.

This will narrow who this is for, and that narrowing is intentional, not a side effect. A fully embodied sacred animal cannot be fully present through a substance. This container asks you to meet your own nervous system directly, including the parts of it a cup of coffee or a glass of wine have been quietly managing for you. If that’s a hard no for you right now, this isn’t the year for you to join, and that’s honest information, not a judgment.

This is for you if:

• You’ve already done the work, therapy, somatic practice, read the self help books, and you’re still searching.
• You’re tired of optimizing. Tired of one more protocol, promising to fix a wound that was never yours alone to carry.
• You’re exhausted by your own self-sufficiency, and you’re ready to be witnessed instead of doing it all.
• You’re willing to sit in the dark, get your hands in the dirt, be uncomfortable, and stay.
• Some part of you already senses that the life on the other side of this might look nothing like the one you’re living now, and instead of that frightening you, you are open to the shifts and experiences waiting on the other side.

This is not for you if

• You’re still looking outside yourself for the fix, the next procedure, the next purchase, the next surface correction to buy your way back into feeling acceptable in a body that was never the problem.
• You want a nice weekend and a nice photo from it, not a real unraveling.
• You need your current life, the career ladder, the appearance maintenance, the status, to stay fully intact around this work. This asks structures to move, not just one more practice added on top of an unchanged life.
• You’re looking for information. You already have the book for that. This is not that.

The investment

This is a year-long container, that will ask you to shift into a version of yourself you may have only glimpsed. There is an aspect of the version of you that will no longer fit into the boxes you have created. By signing up you are accepting that your feral remembering is calling.

Applying does not commit you financially. Being offered a place does not obligate you to accept it.

Why am I doing this now?

My unraveling started more than twenty years ago, in a classroom, of all places. A Christian college, every Bible class I could take, and then the next year, world religions, women’s and gender studies, the floor quietly giving way under everything I’d been handed as fact. I kept going. A bachelor’s in psychology. A doctorate in metaphysical science. Credentials that taught me how these systems are built, and how thoroughly they can be taken apart.

But the real unraveling didn’t happen in a classroom. It happened in my body.

My first child was born at home with a midwife. My second, I caught myself, unassisted, in a bathtub, no one’s hands but mine and my husband’s. There is no seminar that teaches you what your body already knows how to do the moment you stop asking permission for it. I nursed them both for years, co-slept, practiced elimination communication instead of trusting a plastic training system to know my babies better than I did. Every one of those choices was a small refusal, a stepping back from a system that profits from women believing their bodies need managing.

From 2018 to 2023, my husband, my children, and I lived on the road, on and off, in a bus, learning what a family actually needs versus what we’d been sold we needed. In the seasons we weren’t traveling, we built our home by hand, an earthbag house on our own land in southeast Missouri, growing food, building the kind of foodscape that doesn’t ask permission from a grocery store. I’ve practiced herbal medicine for over thirteen years, and it has been how I’ve provided for my family, in full, since 2019.

I believe our bodies have gone off the course of our own evolution, chasing money and status and the need to feel successful while the body itself screams to be let out of captivity. I don’t believe the answer is rejecting every modern convenience, I use the technology that will help build the communities we’re actually going to need. I believe the answer is remembering. I celebrate the turn of the seasons, the spiral of the year, as a way of honoring my place inside nature rather than above it.

I have spent my entire adult life deconstructing the programs, beliefs, and hierarchies I was handed, and I have not arrived anywhere final. I am still practicing my own feral remembering. I am not asking you to follow someone who has it finished. I’m asking you to walk a year with me, someone who is still walking it myself. As I believe the spiral never ends, only allows us to see it more clearly as we continue through.

Questions