What the 1st House Gave Me

What lives in your 1st house = what you cannot hide, even if you try.

Some placements in our chart are things we think about, but 1st house placements are things we live through our body, and for me, my truth is not just something I know, it’s something I physically experience in real time. So many things have been happening in this stage of life, and there was a certain feeling in my body that I kept returning to, one that felt familiar. I just hadn't had the proper words to describe it. So I went digging.

Looking at my chart, I noticed something that I’ve been staring at for years now, but never quite understood what this aspect & placement were here to expose. Have you ever had a favorite go-to spot, but never really studied the building it's in? Maybe light fixtures on the outside? Or notice how their side door is the color blue? But you know what your favorite snack or drink is inside of it without needing a menu. That's how natal charts are for me. I can study, and memorize, and still uncover new things about it as I grow. Social media is a weird place, we can all agree; however, more often than not, I find myself hidden in between threads that expose parts of myself I was unaware of, to a degree. I’ve always known I was a catalyst. If you've been here for a while, I've written about this before. After my most recent relationship, it hit me like a stack of bricks how often I find myself being the mirror to others. Never to stay permanently. For so long, I thought it was because of another placement in my chart, and half of that is true - but that placement was pressing up against something more hidden and mysterious: Lilith. I mention this because it's in a very important place, my first house in Sagittarius. My Lilth is in opposition with a couple of personal planets, where I thought this catalytic energy was coming from.

This is a beautiful place to start if you are new to astrology. The 1st house is quite personal, and we don't talk about it enough, especially if you have the 1st house in planets and prominent asteroids. The 1st house is the most immediate and visible of all. What lives in your 1st house will shape your lived experience in real time.

“This is how people meet me before they understand me"

Some parts of our chart are lived internally. Some parts are projected onto us by others. And some parts are felt immediately through the body (1st house).

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

WHERE IS YOUR 1st HOUSE?

Sun in 1st House: You possess a strong sense of self and radiate confidence, often behaving as a natural leader.

Moon in 1st House: You are emotionally sensitive and wear your feelings on your sleeve, making you nurturing or reactive.

Mercury in 1st House: You are curious, communicative, and independent thinkers who may have a "no filter" approach to speaking.

Venus in 1st House: You are often charming, attractive, and artistic, projecting a harmonious and graceful presence.

Mars in 1st House: You are assertive, energetic, and courageous, taking initiative but potentially being confrontational.

Jupiter in 1st House: You exude optimism, confidence, and a love for growth, often appearing fortunate or wise.

Saturn in 1st House: You are serious, disciplined, and responsible, often projecting an image of maturity or reserve.

Uranus in 1st House: You are unconventional and individualistic, often acting as a "rebel" with a unique approach to life.

Neptune in 1st House: You appear dreamy, intuitive, and compassionate, but may have unclear personal boundaries.

Pluto in 1st House: You have an intense, transformative presence, often undergoing profound personal reinventions.

North Node in 1st House: Your life path involves developing your independence and focusing on your own path, rather than hiding behind relationships.

South Node in 1st House: You may come in with strong, well-developed, and automatic self-focus, needing to balance self-interest with serving others.

Chiron in 1st House: You may carry deep, early wounds regarding your identity, allowing you to become a "wounded healer" for others.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My Reflection

I always noticed that as I aged, I trigger people just by being myself. Not because I'm doing anything wrong , but because my existence asks people: “Are you living in truth… or are you performing?” The more I reflected on this information initiated by a Threads post, the more I’ve realized how I censor myself because this Lilith placement aspects with my Virgo Sun, in a square. So I’m always trying to refine the truth so it can land gently or “properly”. Sometimes tables must be flipped all ways up, with class, of course. There’s always a WAY to do it. Since I have this in the 10th house, there is often conflict between being raw vs being respected. A fear of being misunderstood publicly, but here’s the truth: my career is not built by shrinking Lilith. It’s built by integrating my Lilith energy into my work. Choosing truth even when it disrupts comfort. With this sitting in my midheaven of Libra energy (before y'all come for me - it's the ONLY libra I got!) I’m meant to package truth beautifully, so here I am, airing it all out, with all of you to judge; unfinished and RAW.

In my most recent podcast episode, I spoke about how all these planets have sat in the water sign of Pisces for over a decade. The water tides did something to me and revealed how a part of myself was drowning without me quite understanding it. And of course, my 1st house created an opposition with my Moon in Pisces in a Cancer house, also aspecting another placement in my Aries, sharing the same 4th house. It unlocked what I've known in my body for a long time. I found the catalyst seed right here. I share this part of me, hoping someone can relate and it helps someone else.

I meet myself through others. I don’t just “have relationships”, I initiate transformation in others through interaction. I always thought it was my Mars that my 7th house rests. I wasn't wrong. However, Lilith's aspect activates it in a BIG way. This is where my body reacts to truth before my mind can explain it. Are you following? I hope I didn't lose you. Stay with me.

I had a moment recently where something finally clicked for me, not in a soft or poetic way, but in a very real, almost confrontational way. I realized that my body reacts to truth before my mind can explain it (Lilith opposition Mars). When I really sat with that, I understood something even deeper: the self that knows cannot always protect the self that feels.

I’ve always been someone who can sense things quickly. I can read a room, feel when something is off, and pick up on what isn’t being said long before it arrives for others. But what I didn’t fully understand before is that just because you know something doesn’t mean your emotional body is ready to hold it. For me, that knowing doesn’t come through logic first, it comes through the body (Lilith square Moon). Tears, tension, exhaustion, confusion, that sudden feeling of needing to go home. Not because anything obvious happened, but because something underneath the surface didn’t feel right.

There have been so many moments in my life where my spirit said, “Something is wrong here,” and my emotional body responded, “I don’t want to hold this. It hurts.” That used to confuse me. I would question myself, stay longer than I needed to, try to understand others, empathize, and make space. But what I’ve come to understand is that I wasn’t leaving because I was restless, I was leaving because my body was already paying the cost of staying. I was sacrificing myself in the process. That is a completely different story.

Sometimes the wound isn’t loud or dramatic. It doesn’t always show up as chaos. Sometimes it looks like emotional absence, avoidance, someone saying one thing but embodying another, or a room that feels warm on the surface but cold underneath. If you are someone who feels deeply like I do, you don’t just hear what’s being said, you literally FEEL the gap between two worlds of words and truth. And that gap can be exhausting, honey.

I think a lot of people meet me in my ability to see, to name things, to sense what’s going on. But what they don’t always see is the part of me that has to recover from what I see. These social media apps leave out one important note: intuition doesn’t always arrive as peace. Sometimes it arrives as disturbance. Discomfort, heaviness, sudden tears, the urge to leave, and not being able to settle around someone. For a long time, I thought something was wrong with me. I thought intuition was supposed to feel calm, clear, even magical. But sometimes it’s simply your body saying, “This isn’t for you,” before your mind has the language for it.

If you’re someone who feels like this, I want to offer you a reframe. You are not too sensitive; you are perceptive. You are picking up on what is unspoken. Not everyone can do that. Some people need things explained to them, but some of us feel it before words ever arrive.

Not All Signals Are Treated Equal

The real lesson for me has been understanding that just because I can feel everything doesn’t mean I am meant to hold everything. That’s where boundaries come in. To be transparent, I'm still working on what that looks like. Because the pattern can look like sensing something is off, staying open, trying to understand, absorbing too much, becoming overwhelmed, retreating to recover, AND THEN later realizing you were right all along. I’ve lived that cycle enough times to finally say that I don’t need more evidence to begin protecting my peace. My circle of great listeners helped me along the way of this discovery. Re-routing me back into my body, because I've spent so much of my life intellectualizing everything. If I let another person tell it, I would have judged myself more harshly. One Spring, I received a dillogun reading from someone at a festival in New Orleans. He mentioned how my life seemed like a rotating door of people, and I took it so personally. I asked myself as I read his lips, "Am I not to evolve?" There is a shadow to this placement of my Lilith, cutting off too quickly. But because it involves intuitive places, I've rarely been wrong - even if people may not even understand themselves. So I've overstayed, time and time again. This isn't to say I have not made some mistakes along the way. This is a large part of why I know for a fact I'm a bridge to different practices; it's harmful how we leave one way of viewing someone's destiny out of the conversation. I do think readers also need to understand Astrology. It should definitely be a course taught at Hogwarts. It's just as important as a Science class. He did not know this about my chart, but I had an idea. And now fully aware of myself and why the revolving door exists.

If you’ve ever felt like you outgrow people quickly, leave spaces before you can fully explain why, or feel things in your body that don’t make sense until later, I want you to look at your 1st house. Not just your rising sign, but anything that lives there. The 1st house is what you experience through your body in real time. It is what people feel from you immediately, and what you feel from the world. For me, that realization changed everything. It helped me understand that my intuition isn’t separate from me; it is my body.

I’ve also come to understand that this kind of sensitivity is like being able to smell petrichor before anyone else sees the rain begin to fall. You are not wrong for noticing it early; you are just early. And maybe the work isn’t to keep proving what you felt, but to trust it sooner?

My intuition doesn’t always feel soft or dreamy. Lilith presses on my Imum Coeli; which is the lowest point in our natal charts. Mine is in firey Aries, which is VERY on brand for this year, so I'm actually surprised I'm really understanding this now. Sometimes my intuition is fast, sharp, and immediate. A sudden yes or no, a pull to move, a knowing that doesn’t wait for permission. And I’m learning to honor that too. Because sometimes the truth doesn’t arrive as a vision, sometimes it’s as simple as my body knew.

There is a rebirth happening for many of us mutable signs, myself included. All my top 3 and some personal planets are all mutable. But something else is taking place for me at least, my Jupiter return in Leo. My Lilith naturally aspects this placement, and it will be activated in a whole new way this year. And with us leaving so many Pisces placements behind and stepping into Aries everywhere, My Lilth is no longer swimming; she is dry enough to burn. Ready to be seen and expressed in healthy ways. So my beginning thought, and question was how does my Sagittarius burn and reignite my sense of self? My sense of self returns when I stop negotiating my truth. For so long, water covered me in emotion, projection, confusion, empathy overload, and mental dis-ease. Now the covers are coming off, and fire does that. My Sagittarius Lilith isn’t here to hold everything anymore; it’s here to tell the truth, clear the field, and make space for something real to grow.

The Voice That Broke the Spell

How Lilith Taught Me to Stop Shrinking Myself

A journey of unshrinking, self-trust, and spiritual embodiment

For a long time, I thought power meant silence. That being graceful meant shrinking. I learned early that taking up space—real space—made people uncomfortable, and somewhere along the way, I began to believe that discomfort was my fault. I muted my truths, softened my voice, and let parts of myself go quiet so I could stay safe, stay loved, stay included.

But Lilith had other plans. She came roaring through my chart like a wildfire in Sagittarius, reminding me that my presence isn’t a problem—it’s a prophecy. This is the story of how I stopped shrinking myself and started standing in the full flame of who I am.

Many Black children have carried the weight of words that were meant to discipline or "toughen them up," but instead caused emotional wounding, silencing, or a sense of invisibility. These sayings often came from adults who were themselves trying to protect children from a harsh world—but they still left a lasting impact. And while my experience is rooted in being a Black child, I know I am not alone in hearing:

"Only speak when spoken to."

"Stay in a child's place."

"You talk too much."

"Stop crying before I give you something to cry about."

"What goes on in this house stays in this house."

"That ain't none of your business."

Not many people know that I used to stutter quite a bit as a child. It was hard for me to get out a simple "hello." This affected my confidence when it came to public speaking, but even as a social kid, I still tried out for school plays and loved using my voice in theater. Later, I learned that stuttering doesn’t just disappear—we learn to navigate it through practice and persistence.

In 2022, my mother and I traveled to Accra, Ghana. There, we met a Black woman from Baltimore—a professor and speech pathologist—who told us about her work. Her words brought up so many memories of my childhood struggles with speech. She reminded me that stuttering doesn't go away completely; we just get better at managing it. And when I realized I still do stutter, just not as much, something clicked. I had learned to speak fluently by practicing—but also by surviving the pressure to stay quiet.

There were times I didn’t speak up. I shut down instead of trying to push through. I never realized how much those early experiences shaped my voice today.

As a Virgo Mercury and Gemini Mars, I’ve always known the importance of words. I’ve had to learn how to wield them wisely—not just carefully. Over the years, I’ve stopped aligning my voice with worry and judgment and instead, anchored it in truth.

I am a generational cycle breaker. It ran into me, and I had to rise to meet it. My voice needed to be activated in order to break chains and rewrite old patterns. I can’t just move in faith—I have to speak it, too. My twenties were filled with internal dialogue, but as I entered my 29th year, I made myself a promise to my 30's: to spend more time outside my head and be present with my voice.

Dating a Scorpio activated my voice in unexpected ways. The intensity of that relationship brought so many things to the surface—things I didn’t want, didn’t like, or had kept buried. That relationship was followed by lessons in my friendships, and eventually a hard season with family between 2023 and 2024. We are still relearning how to speak truth together. I needed my voice to do that.

Understanding my natal chart helped me realize why my voice is not just necessary—it’s sacred. There are gifts hidden in the shadows of our charts, and many of mine were left with my inner teen. My voice is helping me recover them, including my spiritual gifts of seeing and knowing. Once, I told someone I could see and hear things others couldn’t. That moment wasn’t received well, and so I shut it down and hid those parts of myself. But now, I’m calling them back.

Living the Embodiment

Lilith in Sagittarius in the 1st house is a placement of wild, untamed expression. It speaks to the sacred rebellion of truth-telling, of refusing to conform, of taking up space with your full being. Sagittarius energy is philosophical, bold, and ever-seeking, while the 1st house represents the self—how you appear, how you move, how you are.

When Lilith sits here, there is often early life messaging that says "your truth is too much," or "tone it down if you want to be loved." People with this placement may have felt punished, judged, or isolated for being outspoken, spiritual in unconventional ways, or simply visible.

But this placement is also an invitation: to reclaim the body, the voice, the philosophy, the presence. To lead with fire and let it be fuel, not fear.

And if Lilith is the wildfire that demands we stop shrinking, then the North Node in Aquarius in the 3rd House is the guiding wind that shows where and how to speak. It has pushed me to communicate more often, more openly, and in ways that serve collective healing. This node says: Use your voice to build bridges. Don't just speak to be heard—speak to connect.

Now, in the time of Aquarius, this placement is being activated more than ever. If you share this North Node, it’s your time. Time to honor this part of your purpose. Time to speak from the soul and guide others to their own revelations through your voice.

Reclaiming your Lilith means learning to trust that you won’t be abandoned for being who you are. It means letting the volume rise on your voice, even if it trembles. It means showing up for your own needs without the need to perform.

You don’t need to be polished. You don’t need to be palatable. You just need to be true.

For those with similar placements—Lilith in Sagittarius, Lilith in the 1st house, or fire sign Liliths—this message echoes: Your body is not too loud. Your beliefs are not too radical. Your truth is not too much.

Let it break the spell.

Ways to Work With This Energy

• Speak before you're ready. Share your truth in your voice, not the one you think will be accepted.

• Move your body freely. Dance, walk, stretch in a way that takes up space. Let your hips lead.

• Write unfiltered. Journal or blog without editing for approval. Let your inner fire have the first word.

• Dress in alignment. Lilith in the 1st wants you to feel yourself. Let your style be part of your reclamation.

• Practice spiritual autonomy. Define your own path, even if it doesn’t look like your teachers’.

Now at 34, I am a talking machine. I may not always get it right in confrontation, but I can roudly say: I’m learning. This is challenging work that many run away from. But during the lockdown, some of us uncovered our talents. Mine was my voice.

Coming out of that relationship in January 2020 was the beginning of a rebirth. My voice had been waiting for me. I began to romanticize my life, become my own muse, and share my experiences. Writing more. Teaching more. Showing up.

It was uncomfortable at first. My Egun were leading me, and I didn’t always understand where I was being guided. But trusting the process led me to create my apothecary, launch the Healing in the Balm Yard podcast, and teach workshops rooted in the medicine I’ve lived.

My voice saved my life. My gifts from the shadow became the light of my life.

If you’ve ever been told you're too much—too loud, too big, too emotional, too intense, too wild—know this: you were never too much. You were just ahead of your time.

This is your invitation to return to your fire. To let your truth be embodied. To unlearn the shame around your voice and step fully into your sacred presence. Lilith isn't here to destroy you. She's here to remind you that you were never broken.

Finding Home In Limbo

The Journey to Spiritual Guidance and Self-Love

Spiritual growth is a journey of transformation. There are moments when we feel grounded, deeply connected to a higher power, and certain of our path. But there are also times when we feel lost, caught between spaces that no longer serve us and the uncertainty of the future. In these moments, finding a spiritual home that aligns with who we are today can feel overwhelming. Yet, it is also one of the most rewarding steps toward healing and self-discovery.

One experience that deeply shaped my understanding of community, patience, and spiritual growth was my time at the Beaucoup Hoodoo Festival. Surrounded by like-minded souls, I realized just how essential community is in the spiritual journey. It wasn’t just about finding a place or practice to call home, but about being in the company of people who support and hold space for each other's growth. The festival reinforced how often we forget the value of patience—not just with others, but with ourselves as we navigate our path. This moment became a turning point, reminding me that patience is essential in finding both our spiritual community and our guide.

The Struggle of Finding Trustworthy Spiritual Guides

For a long time, I sought a spiritual community—one where I could align with the energies around me and grow creatively, not just spiritually. Along the way, I encountered many guides, mentors, and communities, some of which initially seemed promising, only to later reveal their limitations or hidden motives.

The search for a trustworthy mentor has been one of the most challenging parts of my spiritual path. It’s easy to place our trust in others, especially those who appear wise and experienced. But over time, I’ve learned that not all guides are meant for our journey. Some spiritual leaders can be manipulative or lack the tools to help us evolve. One key piece of advice I received from an elder was understanding my needs first—before entering situations I may not want to be in, or before wasting someone else’s time. This wisdom helped me avoid making rushed decisions in a moment of desperation.

I share this because, like many, I’m still figuring it out. We all are. That’s the human experience, isn’t it? In moments of disillusionment, I’ve questioned my worth, feeling as though I had to prove myself to attract the right guidance. These feelings come from deep childhood wounds, where I often felt overlooked and misunderstood. But through these struggles, I’ve learned that self-worth doesn’t come from external validation—it comes from within. This lesson has been reinforced through one-on-one and group therapy, which has helped me better understand myself and how to give myself grace. I hope sharing this part of my journey encourages others to do the same.

Lessons of Love and Detachment

One of the most profound lessons I’ve learned is the importance of love—love for myself, love for others, and love for the journey itself. Recently, I found myself watching videos about Near-Death Experiences (NDEs), and I was struck by how consistent the themes were across all of them. A common thread in these accounts is the realization that love is the only constant in life. The individuals who shared their stories spoke of a shift in perspective, where love became not just an emotion but a state of being. This insight deeply resonated with me and reinforced the truth I’ve come to understand: no matter the hardships we face, love remains the most profound force in our lives.

This understanding ties into a recent reading I had in New Orleans, where a healer spoke about the sacred art of grounding ourselves, especially for those of us who are empaths or feel deeply, such as those with Pisces placements like myself. The healer shared that in our spiritual work, we must practice love and compassion—grounding ourselves in these feelings without letting the negative energies of the world cloud our judgment.

Detachment, the healer reminded me, isn’t about cutting off love; it’s about releasing attachment to outcomes, expectations, and unhealthy patterns. This lesson of love and detachment has become central to my spiritual journey. Choosing love from a place of freedom and non-attachment has been crucial. Even when I let go of things or spaces I've outgrown, love can continue to flow freely, guiding me forward.

This principle ties into the lesson I’ve been working on since the Beaucoup Hoodoo Festival: that community and connection are vital, but detachment can be just as important. We need to stay grounded in love, but also give ourselves permission to step back from unhealthy dynamics. The festival reminded me of the necessity of surrounding myself with people who reflect this balance of love and compassion in their practice.

Self-love has been one of the most transformative tools in my spiritual journey. For much of my life, I believed I had to earn love, success, or happiness. These beliefs came from childhood experiences where I felt like I had to prove myself in various spaces—spiritually, socially, and creatively. But healing from these wounds required a shift in perspective: I had to begin with love for myself. I had to accept that I am worthy simply because I exist.

Understanding love as a state of being—something we can choose and practice, not just something we feel—has deeply affected how I approach relationships and personal development. This perspective shifts the focus away from seeking validation externally, and instead, empowers us to act with love toward ourselves and others, regardless of how we feel in a particular moment.

This shift in perspective has helped me heal relationships that were once strained—both with others and with myself. Choosing self-love means allowing myself to restore balance, heal past hurts, and create healthier relationships. It’s about embracing my imperfections and giving myself grace. When I operate from a place of self-love, I can love others more fully, forgive more easily, and grow with a sense of peace.

The Power of Godparents and Mentors in Spiritual Growth

In many spiritual traditions, godparents are essential guides, mentors, and sources of support. For a long time, I’ve sought a godparent—someone to walk with me, offering wisdom and guidance as I explore the depths of my spiritual journey. However, finding the right godparent has proven to be more challenging than I expected.

I’ve encountered well-meaning people who weren’t quite the right fit for my path, and I’ve struggled with defining what a godparent should represent. Should they nurture my growth while holding me accountable? Should they challenge me or simply guide me through? The absence of a trusted guide has made me realize that I don’t need a perfect mentor. I need someone honest, compassionate, and respectful of my autonomy while still offering wisdom when needed. Choosing someone that also chooses me too.

In my journey, I’ve come to realize that finding spiritual guidance should be treated with the same care and consideration as choosing a life partner. It takes time. It requires patience. At the Beaucoup Hoodoo Festival, I was able to connect with others who shared their personal experiences of finding a spiritual mentor. Many of their insights and lessons on this journey helped refine my own understanding of what to look for in a godparent. Their stories helped me ask the right questions, and their experiences deepened my understanding of the qualities I should prioritize in a guide.

Example Questions to Ask When Searching for a Godparent

Finding the right godparent is a deeply personal decision, but there are key questions to ask that can help clarify whether a prospective mentor is the right fit for you. I went on a hunt of other articles and journals from other medicine people and healers that have written about this over the years. I've found some amazing articles from the early 2000's that were so helpful, espeically in a time where social media didn't exist the way it exists today. And also how this information have evolved over time to include social media and what to be mindful of in this new day of technology. From all of that research I got : What to look for in a godparent and points to keep in mind:

1. Are They Truly Initiated? This may seem like an obvious question, but it’s an important one. Anybody can hop online and claim anything these days. Sometimes I found that some folks paid for something that wasn't what it was supposed to be. It’s essential to understand their lineage and ask about their initiation process. A godparent should be able to share who initiated them and their spiritual lineage. This is especially important in a community where integrity and authenticity are valued. It’s worth asking for references or talking to others who’ve worked with them to verify their background. This also gives you more insight into what tradition they follow and if it aligns with what you are wanting to learn. There are many spiritual paths within the Orisha tradition, such as Ifa, Santería, Candomblé, and others. It’s crucial to understand which tradition your potential godparent practices. Do their teachings align with what you are looking for?

   
   

2. What Is Their Reputation in the Community? Just as you would research a company before joining, it’s important to understand the reputation of the godparent you are considering. Do they have a strong standing in the community? Do they have a healthy community or support system? Are they known for their wisdom and kindness, or do they have a history of mistreating their godchildren? Don't be afraid of speaking with others who’ve been guided by them to get an understanding of their approach to mentorship.

   
   

3. Do They Teach and Share Knowledge? Being a godparent is not just about overseeing initiations—it’s about providing guidance and teaching. Does your prospective godparent take the time to teach their godchildren the ins and outs of the tradition, or do they offer passive support? Some spiritual guides are incredible diviners but may struggle to be effective teachers. Understanding what kind of mentorship you need and whether the godparent can provide it is essential. THIS IS SO IMPORTANT.

   
   

4. What Are the Expectations and Boundaries? Ask what is expected of you as a godchild. Each house has its own requirements, and understanding what those are upfront can prevent misunderstandings later on. Some houses require regular participation, while others may not. I know of many people who have to travel to see their godparents and ile, while that isn't always ideal-its necessary for those that have found community in other places. Understanding how that fits into your schedule and lifestyle financially. It's such a huge commitment. I find that we travel for things and people that are important to us no matter what- we'll figure it out. It’s also important to discuss boundaries—how accessible are they, what are their communication preferences, and what is their approach to financial contributions?

   
   

5. Are They Transparent About Financials? Spiritual practices can require financial commitments, but transparency is crucial. Be clear about what you can expect to pay for ceremonies, offerings, and initiations. If a godparent demands exorbitant fees or charges excessively for readings and ceremonies, that’s a red flag. Ask for a clear breakdown of costs and what they cover. Spiritual growth should not come at the expense of your financial stability. And do they have a job? This comes up so often. Do they need you to take care of their bills? Are they overcharging or only contacting you for unnecessary ebos or rituals every week.

   
   
   
   

There are so many other questions to ask, but I wanted this to be a starting point for those to start their own list of questions or comments to journal on this journey. You can never ask too many questions and make sure it aligns with your needs. Be clear! This can also be used for anyone searching for a mentor, spiritual coach, guide - insert your own teacher here.

Responsibilities of a Godchild

Once you’ve found a godparent who aligns with your values and goals, it's good understand the responsibilities that come with this relationship. A godchild’s duties are not unlike those of any respectful relationship:

• Be Humble: Humility is crucial in a godchild-godparent relationship. It’s important to be open to learning and to approach the relationship with respect.

• Be Honest: Transparency with your godparent is key. They need to understand your struggles and your growth to guide you effectively.

• Be Helpful: You may be called upon to help with ceremonies or assist your godparent in other ways. While this should never feel like servitude, a willingness to contribute when needed shows your commitment to the relationship.

• Set Boundaries: While it’s essential to be available and supportive, it’s equally important to maintain boundaries. Financial and emotional boundaries should be respected on both sides.

• Stay Open: You are entering into a mentorship, not a perfect relationship. Be prepared to accept advice and guidance—even if it’s not always what you want to hear.

Choosing a godparent or spiritual guide is a profound decision. It should be made with patience, respect, and clarity. You may find yourself drawn to someone initially, only to realize that they are not the right fit for your path. And that’s okay. Trust that the right guide will emerge when the time is right. The Beaucoup Hoodoo Festival reminded me of the importance of community in this process. It’s a reminder that finding the right spiritual home isn’t about rushing the process—it’s about being patient and discerning, trusting that the right connections will come.

When seeking a godparent, remember: take your time, ask the right questions, and trust your intuition. This is a relationship that could profoundly shape your spiritual life, so don’t settle for anything less than what truly resonates with you.

The key to navigating the limbo between spiritually focused spaces and finding a spiritual home lies in balance. I’ve learned that spiritual growth doesn’t depend solely on external guidance—it comes from within. While mentors and godparents offer valuable insights, the foundation of my spiritual journey must be built on how I feel about myself, trust in the process, and a willingness to learn from every experience, even the painful ones.

It’s not easy to trust the journey when it feels uncertain, and it’s even harder when you feel like you’re walking it alone. But every connection, every lesson, is part of the larger tapestry of life.

Embracing the Journey with Compassion

The festival reinforced the importance of community in this process. It reminded me that spiritual growth is not a race. The right connections will come when the time is right, and patience is a crucial part of that journey. Trust the process, remain open to learning, and embrace both community and self-love as you find your spiritual home.

The path may not always be clear, but it’s always worth walking. Embrace the lessons, the love, and the growth that come with each step.