Monthly Archives: May 2026

Blue Moon

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Hey y’all. If you haven’t heard yet, we’re in for a rare lunar treat this month 🌕 May is closing out with not one, but two full moons. The first arrived on May 1 with the full Flower Moon, and on May 31, the rare Blue Moon will rise.

This phenomenon only happens every two to three years, according to NASA. Additionally, this Blue Moon happens to be a micromoon, meaning the moon will be at its farthest point from Earth and may appear slightly smaller in the night sky.

Blue moons occur because the moon’s lunar cycle lasts about 29.5 days, while our calendar months stretch 30 to 31 days. Every two to three years, the timing aligns just right, giving us a full moon at both the beginning and end of a single month. Pretty magical, right?

And get this: bars across California, from LA to San Diego, are celebrating the occasion by serving blue-colored beer from Blue Moon Brewing Company in honor of this special moon. Right here in my own backyard, Panama Joe’s seems to be the hive for grabbing a pint of blue beer.

Spiritually, the Blue Moon is seen as a rare cosmic gift, a lunar moment believed to amplify our intentions and inner calling. According to Tea and Rosemary, this Blue Moon rises in Sagittarius opposite the Gemini Sun, illuminating our beliefs, personal truths, and deep hunger for freedom. Right on!

Sagittarius energy invites us to expand, explore, and aim higher. As they describe it, this may be one of the most adventurous and truth-revealing moons of the year. Here’s an invitation to turn inward and listen closely to what this rare Blue Moon may be bringing forth in you:

This moon will bring:

  • A surge of optimism and big picture vision
  • Revelation of deeply buried truths
  • A burning desire for authenticity (always)
  • Opportunities for travel, learning, or spiritual growth (I’m visiting MA & CO next month)

This moon asks:

  • What uncomfortable truths are becoming clear?
  • What outdated beliefs are you ready to release?
  • What adventure is calling you forward?

Great journal prompts for self-reflection!

Here are some Blue Moon activities:

  • Go for a night walk under the moonlight
  • Dance freely to upbeat music as an offering to the moon (Count me in!)
  • Burn a list of limiting beliefs in a sacred fire (or candlelight)
  • Bury a written wish at the base of a tree
  • Embark on a spontaneous adventure

So, people, take aim and point your arrow toward whatever sets your soul ablaze! But above all, take a moment to soak in the wonder of this rare Blue Moon. Cheers!

Piano One

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I’m slowly recovering from three years of burnout. Resting feels a bit like that maddening smoke alarm chirp — You know the batteries need changing, but you can’t figure out which damn alarm is sounding! Even rest feels strangely effortful — my nervous system translates stillness into threat. I used to tell my trauma clients that chronic restlessness and hypervigilance come from a hyperaroused nervous system, and any sound, interruption, or shift in the environment can register danger. Now, I’m living inside the very thing I taught others.

Yesterday morning, I had a doctor’s appointment. Actually, I’ve had multiple back-to-back medical appointments lately — all the things I’ve been putting off forever and am finally tending to. Not exactly a fun, restful time. The whole ordeal seemed to throw my day off, and I found it impossible to reconnect with my body afterward. So I forced, yes forced my way to the keyboard, and I sat and played for a couple of hours.

I purchased a used Korg D1 digital keyboard last weekend. Yesterday was the first day I played her since then. She’s absurdly heavy and currently occupies half my tiny kitchen. It felt a little heartbreaking to play, as I haven’t touched a piano in a long time. I started learning Human Nature by Michael Jackson and A Groovy Kind of Love by Phil Collins. The chord progressions were fairly easy to pick up.

I’m still waiting for an amp to arrive, since the only audio output right now is via headphones, which makes it difficult to listen closely to songs while figuring out chords. Still, it felt really good to sit at the keyboard again and improvise for a while. I tried not to be too self-critical. Eventually, I settled on learning Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence by Ryuichi Sakamoto. I have the sheet music. The piece is full of lush chords, sevenths, ninths, etc., larger than an octave that barely fit beneath my small hands, but I managed. It definitely needs practice; I’ll make a recording once the music feels more embodied.

I first heard Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence on the 1985 album, Piano One (Private Music-Japan) in college. The album quickly became a favorite that I listened to repeatedly. You must give it a listen! My favorite piece is The Housewife’s Song. I wasn’t able to find the album on Spotify, but came across it on YouTube, which I’ve linked below. As I write this post coffee in hand, I’m listening to it again. It brings me back to a younger version of myself — that dreamy, distant, always somewhere in the clouds girl.

While my digital keyboard is no baby grand, which I’m sadly trying to sell due to lack of space, it has a surprisingly rich sound for a digi instrument. It’ll have to do for now. I have two medical appointments today, inconveniently planted right in the middle of the freakin’ day, but I’ll find my way back to the keyboard after.

I’m trying to give myself permission to be exactly where I am — to slow down and enjoy playing simply for the sake of playing. It’s so easy for me to slip back into that performance mindset, obsessing over every phrase, nuance, breath, wanting each note polished, perfect. Jeez, it’s really hard not to be a perfectionist…

Deep to Deep

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I kept forgetting your name
and each time, you patiently reminded me
in that quiet, gentle manner of yours,
your smile held the softness of
someone who’d seen it all.

There was more to you, to your story,
a depth that echoed pain
and made me curious,
pulled at me.

The sadness in your eyes
mirrored my own, deep to deep,
like hunger burning to be witnessed.

And the guarded parts of me opened;
I wanted to ease that ache,
and in easing your ache,
mine was also honored.

May my affection find you
when you most need it,
around and around and back home again,
to a place where you feel most loved.

—A Sunday morning poem about someone who became very dear to me ☕🌿 Mj

Rain Through Me

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The memory of you grows fainter
with each passing day,
your smile growing distant.

I cherish the way
the crinkles around your eyes
and mouth light me up,
yet that image is fading
like twilight into night.

I long to hear your laugh,
like the gentlest rainstorm
pouring through me.

Night stretches on;
an old weight gathers
beneath my ribs.

I hoped you’d always be
right by my side,
but nothing lasts forever, my love.

A little poem I wrote last night about the one you miss. Mj

shadow of you

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out of this body,
out of this mind
running frantically in place
as though running out of time

in my dreams i search for you
amid a forest thick with mist,
but you are not to be found,
and there i remain alone and adrift

when suddenly you appear
under a half-lit waning moon,
time itself stands illuminated
yet you disappear far too soon

i reach blindly for your shadow
and to it I dare cling,
but your shadow slowly fades–
no solace does it bring

—Turns out nightmares are oddly good for poetry, lol. Mj

Endings, live performance by East Forest

Photo by Sven Brandsma on Unsplash

color of rage

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the scream that

no one hears,

concealed behind

beguiling soft eyes,

and practiced yeses

is the color of rage

Photo by Yusuf Sabqi on Unsplash

burning alive

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remember the first time
you brushed the hair back
from my eyes?
it was one of those fever-hot days last July

sand clung to our bronzed, bare feet
you leaned into me
and i could barely breathe
we were burning alive

you were the blue,
always changing like the tide
born to love me with all the grace
of a blooming sunrise,
my morning star
we kept burning alive

sun and sand,
wind through the palms
we moved together,
in sweet surrender

i loved you for eternity,
my evening song
we burned through the night

Photo by Storiès on Unsplash

Playlist

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One of my students recently gifted me Heart and The Carpenters LPs as a parting gift from the university, and I was genuinely moved. One day, we were talking about classic rock bands, and I casually mentioned how much I ❤️ Heart.

Lately, I’ve been completely re-obsessed with them. Bad Animals has been on repeat.

I’ve also been deeply into Madison Cunningham lately. If you haven’t listened to her, you absolutely should. She’s a musical genius and an incredible guitarist. What’s especially remarkable is that she was never formally trained — she learned from her father, who was apparently an exceptional guitarist himself.

Two songs I can’t stop listening to right now: Want You So Bad (Heart) and My Full Name (Cunningham).

I love everything about Want You So Bad — such an underrated and absolutely badass song, in my humble opinion. Ann Wilson’s vocals fully embody the yearning in the song. Soooo good. She and Nancy Wilson are easily two of the greatest women in rock ’n’ roll.

I’m also obsessed with the percussion — that driving 80s synth-rock rhythm by drummer, Denny Carmassi. I’m fascinated by the 8th note high hats, and synths, too. Okay, yeah… I geek out over how songs are constructed!

Have you ever listened to the podcast, Song Exploder? Musicians deconstruct their songs piece by piece and tell the story of how they were made. Brilliant. You can find it on Apple Podcasts and elsewhere.

I love the entire Bad Animals album, but for whatever reason, Want You So Bad keeps pulling me back in. It’s become my fave.

Madison Cunningham’s My Full Name is a piano-driven opening single from her most recent album, Ace. The song sketches the bittersweet, vulnerable journey of navigating heartbreak and self-discovery. Perhaps there’s a theme in the songs I’ve had on repeat lately? LoL!

I genuinely think Cunningham is one of the greatest songwriters today. Her writing is so intricate, layered, technical, and her voice carries a dreamy quality that pulls you in. She’s known to be an indie folk, alternative rock artist with some jazz influence. You just have to listen!

I’ve also found myself revisiting Kalandra lately. I previously posted my favorite song by the group, With You. Based in Oslo, the band formed around Katrine Stenbekk (vocals), Jogeir “Juno” Jensen (guitar), Florian Sommer (bass), and Oskar Johnsen Rydh (drums). Their sound is a mix of atmospheric Nordic folk, alternative pop, and ethereal post-rock, a little reminiscent of AURORA if you’re familiar with her style.

Stenbekk’s voice is so pure — the way she moves into her upper register is truly unreal. There’s something both haunting and cinematic about the band’s music.

I just get lost in music, disappear for hours at a time.

So, what do you have on repeat these days? Would love to know. Drop a comment below!

Put on your headphones and turn up the volume!

Almost There!

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Now that I’m stepping away from the profession of psychotherapy, it feels okay to reveal my identity. Hey, I’m Mj, aka Moongirl! Before becoming a therapist, I shared photos regularly, but once I entered the field professionally, I felt the need to protect my privacy in case a client happened upon my site. It served its purpose for a long time, though I must admit it feels good to have a little more freedom now, and I hope to write more often again.

Just three more days until my resignation is official! I saw my final client today, and the rest of my time will be spent writing termination notes. Our clinical team is attending a “retreat” on Wednesday, my last day, and apparently we’re going to an escape room. I’ve never done one before, so that should be interesting. There’s something quite poetic about ending my career in mental health by trying to escape a locked room!

Despite the grief of saying goodbye to my colleagues and students, I’m beginning to accept that it’s time for me to move on. It has taken four years to fully realize that this work caused more than burnout. It unearthed pain by triggering and retriggering wounds of my own. To sit with that kind of suffering day after day eventually takes its toll. Yes, I spent years doing my own trauma work in therapy. I still don’t entirely understand why this profession affected me the way it did while other therapists with similar histories seemed less impacted. Perhaps I’m simply too sensitive — I sure as hell can’t figure it out.

In all honesty, the path of the witch, otherwise known as modern witchcraft, and spirituality have helped me heal more deeply than anything else, and for that, I’m profoundly grateful 🌙 It’s a deeply personal, lifelong spiritual and magikal journey, far removed from the way it’s often portrayed in movies. This path has guided me back to what feels most meaningful: nature, writing, music, spirituality, connection to self and others, and learning to trust myself. In many ways, it’s been a return to who I truly am.

To honor the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another, I’ll be celebrating with a new tattoo. Photos to come ✨

And I’m excited about starting a sound therapy practice, though I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t also a little scared. I’m not sure it’s the kind of work that generates a substantial income, but to me that isn’t the only measure of a meaningful life. For now, I suppose I’ll simply see what becomes of it. Life is too short — I don’t want to waste precious time! I hope to wake up on Thursday, drink my cup of coffee slowly, and lounge in bed all morning long. That is the life.

no longer here

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the tiny murmur in my heart

became a whisper, and the whisper grew to be a wail until

the wail became a moan; the moan reminds me that you are no

longer here; the tourniquet has stilled the spill aound my grieving heart,

yet has done nothing to remove the memory of you from my pounding head,

so i will write and write another day until the moan becomes a wail,

and the wail softens into a whisper, and the whisper once again

becomes a tiny murmur, then there will be nothing but

silence to remind me that you are no longer here



—Sometimes the feeling of loss is so visceral. Mj


Photo by Sasha Freemind on Unsplash

goodbyes are damn hard

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Hello out there, and happy May! I hope wherever you are, the weather is sunny and warm. It’s been a rather chilly spring thus far here in Southern California. We did have a few very warm days about a month ago, but since then it’s cooled off. I’m completely enjoying it.

I’m in the process of winding things down at the university — holding final sessions with clients and preparing for my departure. I underestimated how difficult it would be to say good-bye. When I was considering resigning last year, all I could feel was the fatigue, day after day, the burnout.

It’s funny — once you decide to leave, people begin to share their appreciation for you and your work. It’s difficult to truly assess any impact you’ve made when you’re “in it.” I enjoyed my role as the Asian & Pacific Islander (API) Liaison. I deeply loved the work, and I will miss the students and director of APCC (The Asian & Pacific Cultural Center), who has become a friend.

We recently held a cultural graduation celebration for the Asian & Pacific Islander/Southwest Asian & North African students. It was a more intimate gathering, a space to truly honor the graduates in a way the larger ceremonies simply can’t. I’m sure the students felt that. One student I’ve gotten to know pretty well over the past year asked me to attend their graduation, and I was so touched. So yes, my heart is breaking a little — maybe a lot. I think I’m writing this simply to give the grief somewhere to go.

Goodbyes have always been difficult, even as a young child — adoption trauma at its finest. I remember experiencing intense anxiety when my adoptive dad, in particular, went away on business trips. It was like a panic attack laced with grief, a kind of separation anxiety that sat so heavy in my chest. I hated being left at daycare and later, elementary school. Yep, I was the screamer and had terrible stomachaches at school that couldn’t be explained.

My godmother, Janie, visited our family once when I was in elementary school. When it was time for her to return home, I felt that same profound sadness and panic. With every day, I grew increasingly anxious and sad. I sobbed in the car as my mom and I took her to the airport. I stayed there, too embarrassed to step out because I couldn’t stop crying. For days afterward, I mourned her departure. I couldn’t find the words to explain the depth of my emotions, even when my mom asked. I recognize it now as simply pain.

Moments of separation still tend to feel like a small death, not to be morbid, just honest. The intensity has softened, but the grief remains. Some trauma wounds don’t fully close, I’m convinced. It’s part of being human, and perhaps what has shaped me into the trauma therapist I’ve become.

I have facilitated groups for the past three years at APCC. It’s such a vibrant hub where API students gather to study, hang out, play mahjong, and student workers/leaders host support groups. The group I facilitate is called HAPI Hour (get it?), and we explore different topics related to API student mental health. This Wednesday is our last one… and it will be a celebration of all the fun we’ve shared. What great memories I’ll have of the center and the students who I came to adore.

With my resignation, I’ll have more time to devote to sound therapy — growing my practice and following what calls to me. Still, I’ll miss the university, my colleagues, and the students, despite the burnout and those moments I wasn’t sure I could make it through another workday. Goodbyes are damn hard.

May the coming months open into a simpler, more inspired life — one filled with creativity, and of course, magick.

Photo by Alexander Popovkin on Unsplash