*The Flames and Flowers of May

We’re gathered here at the turning, the time of Beltane, Walpurgis Night, Hexennacht. Different names, different paths, but the same fire at the center. This is the season when the veil thins, when life pushes up and out, when what has been hidden begins to show itself again. Across these traditions, this is a time of witchcraft, of magick, of those who walk between worlds stepping more fully into their power. So it is not only fitting but deeply appropriate that we honor Freyja here, and through her the divine feminine within us all, the witch within us all, the part of us that knows how to feel, to shape, to transform. This is not a shy holiday. This is not a restrained moment. This is a time of heat, of blooming, of bodies remembering they are alive. In my spirituality, I don’t separate that from the sacred.

We don’t say the body is one thing and the spirit another. We don’t say desire is separate from devotion. That divide, the notion that what is sensual, emotional, or passionate is somehow less sacred, is something that was put on top of us. Because if you look at the lore, at the old stories, you don’t find a cold, distant divinity. You find gods who feel. Who want. Who grieve. Who burn. And if we’re talking about this season, this fire, this blooming, then we have to talk about Freyja.

Freyja, who is said to receive half of the fallen in her hall, Fólkvangr, while Odin takes the other half, challenges the idea that power, war, or authority belong exclusively to one being. She weeps tears of gold for her lost beloved, Óðr, not a distant, emotionless goddess but one who feels so intensely that her grief becomes something precious. Freyja also taught seiðr—magic that bends fate itself, to Odin. Historically seen as unmanly, dangerous, and boundary-crossing, this magic is now recognized as hers to hold, share, and define. She embodies love and war, desire and sovereignty, beauty and ferocity, grief and power. Her complexity, her refusal to be reduced to a single aspect, reflects what this season evokes in us. Beltane and Walpurgis Night symbolize more than just fertility; they represent creative life-force—the internal surge that declares: I am here. I want. I feel. I create. Here, Audre Lorde’s concept of the erotic becomes vital—not as trivial or purely sexual but as a deep, internal fountain of knowledge and strength. The erotic, in this sense, echoes what we might also call the divine feminine: not limited by gender, but an expansive expression of our innermost nature, our ability to feel completely, know profoundly, and create from a place of truth.

She reminds us that the erotic is intertwined with the sacred and the political. That dividing line? It’s artificial. What is the erotic, really? It’s the moment you feel truly alive. It’s the undeniable truth. It’s the connection that makes you say: this matters. When you listen to it—when you truly honor it, you become harder to control, silence, or diminish into something superficial. That’s why it’s suppressed, mistrusted, shrunk, or mislabeled as shallow or shameful. Yet, in our traditions, if we pay attention, it’s evident in the gods. Freyja doesn’t apologize for her desire, her magic, or her space in realms others might claim aren’t hers. Significantly, this power isn’t limited to a few; it’s not restricted by gender or identity. It’s not limited by who you’ve been told you’re allowed to be. Every single person here carries that same spark, that same capacity for deep feeling, for creation, for transformation.

The divine feminine, if we use that term, isn’t just about women. It represents a way of being that cherishes connection, intuition, embodiment, and a bold sense of self-awareness. This energy flows through Beltane fires and Hexennacht gatherings, inspiring acts of magic and truth alike. Everyone has access to this, and each of us has a voice yet to be fully expressed. Lorde prompts us to ask: What words are you still searching for? What truths remain beneath the surface, waiting to be voiced? What do you hide daily because it's safer than revealing it? Silence that results from this kind of imposed suppression doesn’t shield us; instead, it quietly drains our energy. This vibrant season, full of fire and blooming beauty, invites us to express ourselves, take risks, and be honest. Let's embrace this joyful time of openness and authenticity. Though speaking your truth is challenging and feels dangerous—altering circumstances—it’s essential for wholeness. It transforms us from mere survival to truly living. In a world leaning toward numbness, disconnection, and quiet erasure, awakening is a sacred, political, and vital act.

As the spring awakens,  I want to encourage you to honor your true feelings. Not just the easy ones, joy and love, but also anger, longing, grief, and hunger. All of it. These emotions are not distractions from your journey; they are your journey. They are the well Freyja draws from, the magic she teaches, and the fire we celebrate. When that spark within you ignites, when something tells you this matters, don’t turn away. Follow it, speak it, and shape your life around it as best you can. We honor the gods by embracing our true selves: alive, connected, feeling, and fearless in our passions. Celebrate the changing season, the fire, Freyja, and the inner power we all possess.

• The title of this post is taken from Beat of Beltane/Awakening the Dream Written by Ivo Dominguez Jr