She's the old one, the winter hag who carries the year in her two hands and knows exactly when to let it go. You'll meet her at whatever threshold you're already standing at. She won't ask you to explain it.

The Wheel turns through 4 seasonal arcs. Each one holds its own weather, its own kind of dark, its own return. You don't have to walk the whole year to begin, join for a single arc, or walk the full turning, whichever door is open to you right now.

This is the deepest work I teach. Ritual. Sisterhood. The slow work of coming back to yourself, one season at a time.