Spirit of Choice 🥃 Death 🪲

For this Full Moon CC&T 🌑🌒, pour yourself your favorite spirit or drink—whatever calls to you. The moon’s energy is big right now: illuminating deep currents, stirring emotions that ripple through our mostly-water bodies.

In honor of all that intensity, I felt the pull to simplify what we’re sipping. No fancy ingredients, no pressure—just something grounding in your glass and a moment to pause. Reflect. Feel the feels. Maybe even shake a few things loose—literally.

If your glass has a lid (or you're feeling bold), give it a little shake. Let the motion match the emotion. Stir the waters, release the pressure, and toast to what’s ready to move.

Gather Tools 🛠️ Ingredients :

Tools 🧰:

• Glass
• Ice if desired

Ingredients 🌿:

• Spirit of Choice

Your “mise” is ready , let's enjoy some alchemy ✨🧪

Press play ▶️ on #08 Lunar CC&T Jams 🎶 and lets move straight into Tarot 📝.

Death 🪲 Scorpio 🦂

With the Full Moon in Scorpio, we find ourselves drawn into the emotional swamp—those deep, murky waters that lie far beneath the surface of what’s obvious or polite. Scorpio doesn’t skim the shallows. It pulls us into the undercurrents of truth, asking: What’s been lingering in the underbelly? What emotions—jealousy, grief, fear, desire—are surfacing now, demanding release?

This is the terrain of the Death card in the Tarot, Scorpio’s archetypal mirror. Not an ending for the sake of loss, but a sacred composting. We can't hold onto everything—we don’t have the capacity. And what we cling to too tightly can rot. But if we let it break down, if we let it heat and decompose, it becomes fertile soil. Rich. Nourishing. Transformative.

It’s also a process of distillation—another heat-born ritual. In distillation, the essence of a substance rises from the heavy matter below. The vapors leave behind what’s too dense to carry, becoming the spirit. And maybe, in the same way, your own emotional intensity is doing just that: heating, rising, distilling. What essence is trying to emerge? What deep emotion is clarifying itself—not to weigh you down, but to guide you forward?

It’s a lot to feel. A lot to metabolize.

So tonight, as I sip a glass of bourbon, I’m thinking about corn and winter wheat, charred oak barrels and the quiet power of time. This spirit rested before it rose. Maybe I can do the same. Let my sharp feelings steep a while. Add a cube of ice to soften the edge. See if I can turn the rawness into something—words, art, even silence—that helps me trace these feelings back to their roots.

To compost. To distill. To rise.
Salud. 🌕🌑🥃

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