Current Events

I’m Back. Welcome to Witch ‘n Bitch.

Dear Gentle and Sexy Reader,

VOTE, y’all. Are you registered?

You’ve noticed I’ve been away for fucking ever a couple years. And that I’m no longer over at but over here, on a big-ass fancy professional website. It took me a minute, but I finally fully launched myself all the way out of the broom closet of being a semi-anonymous, sweary, shit-talking psychologist blogger who wrote in the third goddamned person for reasons unknown even to myself, to finally officially revealing myself as a the straight up Tarot reading witch and shamanic practitioner I’ve been, well, pretty much forever. I’m assuming you’re not totally shocked.

I’m over on IG a lot. And I have a cool af intersectional witch group forming over on the AskDrDing FB page, called Witch ‘n Bitch. But, you ask, “How do I know if Witch ‘n Bitch is my jam? I don’t own an actual cape or BoS, you see.” Excellent question!

First off, this is non-binary space. IDGAF about your genotype or phenotype or if you identify as male or female or have transcended the gender binary altogether. C’mon over. Tell us your pronouns.

Second: you don’t have to be a big boss witch, a Wiccan, or a witch of any kind. I’m a retired Catholic, a former altar girl at St. Patrick’s who still digs a lot of the traditions I was raised in, and in fact, it’s where my interests in mysticism originated back when I was a fake nun. We talk about what being a witch means, or doesn’t mean. In the end, it’s the results that matter to me most, so if you resonate with the group but don’t consider yourself a witch or a believer in the otherworlds, cool.

If you’re someone who’s into using magic/k, witchery, energy work, shamanism and/or other embodied spiritual practice to help fix the flaming pile of used diapers that is this country right now, including room for “deep trouble/good-hearted” hexing* along with healing…

If you’re someone who groks #blacklivematter, #POClivesmatter, #ibelievesurvivors, #resist, #LBGTQIA, and #bodypositivity along with #ableismexists …

If you’re able to dialog with others in a respectful way about spiritual and metaphysical topics and be willing to examine the ways these intersect with the lived experiences of oppression and patriarchy in your own life and in the lives of others…all while conspiring (literally “to breathe together”) to heal some shit in the right-now…

If you are an intersectional feminist who maybe secretly digs “woo” or who ain’t quite sure about the rest of it, but is open to learning…

If you’d also like to trade old-timey or newfangled spellwork, recipes, rituals, charms or invocations, discuss healing techniques, explore your spiritual/intuitive gifts, share stories of boldness, love, empowerment, healing, awakening, and grief…

You get the idea. Psychology, a discipline which used to encompass soul, mind, and spirit, has spent the last 50 years or so trying to forcibly separate the soul from the mind, and my stance in WnB is that I’m here to help make reintroductions and hold space for folks interested in limning these deeps. I expect the group to function independently at some point, like when I go on vacation or enter my hibernation cave in the winter.

You absolutely must answer the questions three to get in. Fact. This space must remain not only safe, but sacred. I’m not here to argue about it. My house, my rules, but the rooms inside are yours.

If I’m teaching anything, it’s along the lines of rediscovering and nourishing aspects of the Self and its ways of knowing that have been disallowed, fractioned off, suppressed, oppressed, or devalued. There are many Ways of Knowing. Multitudes. Not just the ones we’ve all been taught in textbooks and by the culture at large, or even in classes. Deeper, older ways that can be helpfully integrated with modern understandings if we have but eyes to look; ways, that, if applied over time, can result in a return to wholeness, to original blessing (as opposed to original sin), to singing the tired old bones to life again, and make them stronger from the breaking.

I am here to lovingly affirm that we can learn through joy as well as pain. We can regain power that seems forever lost to us at the hands of oppressive structures and forces. Every human being, I believe, has this ability to call their spirit back when the shit comes down.

I’m deliberately letting the ways and means of this group coalesce in a natural way. We are still “forming and norming” what this group is going to be about, because I had that “storming” part covered, around the time of the autumnal equinox and Aries moon, when something deep in my marrow finally arose and plainly spoke: ENOUGH.


I’m turning 50 in a few months. This is a time of great change and even turmoil, the realization of unfinished business and incomplete mourning, of deeply knowing the certainty of death and the finitude of earthly time. Midlife can be, and is for me, the second adolescence of the psyche and body, and a revisiting of the awful and also glorious truths of life as revealed by the turning of the wheel.

It’s go time, baby. Let’s make it count. Tell your friends. Only the ones you know will be into it, though, ok? I’m weary of arguing with those who do not seem to be able to recognize that everybody matters, or nobody matters. Let’s create a cauldron of healing, of dreaming a new future where this gobshite diaper-fire patriarchy is a thing of the past and burnt to bits, and a healthy world is invoked and dreamt awake, where the Sacred Masculine and the Sacred Feminine coexist right here, right now, in real life, in real time, for earth and all her peoples. Blessed Be forever.

*Hexing = to bind and thereby neutralize harm, render harmless, dissipate, ward off, protect against, etc. You get it.

Coming Out Of The Spiritual Closet With Jazz Hands Of Mercy

It's Quan Yin, bitchez!

It’s Quan Yin, bitchez!

I’ve written and rewritten this post so many times it’s redonk, and it’s still not where I want it to be, but  my 46th birthday is tomorrow, and it’s about damn time that I just spit it all out.

So here’s the gig. Since I was somewhere between two and three years old, I’ve: seen dead people, biofield/aura energy, and spirit beings, had premonitions and pre-cognitive dreams, and felt the presence of angels. I’ve doubted and agonized and tried to wish it all away. I’m a scientist-practitioner, fer Chrissakes. Ghosts are for crazy people and hysterics! The mind creates meaning out of ambiguous stimuli!  It sees what it wants!

Why share this now? Simple. The world is going to hell in a rickety, flaming, just pure nasty-assed shopping cart of fuckery, people. We’re systematically tearing the shit out of this poor planet’s resources and fighting endless wars over those same resources. Corporations are screwing us out of everything including the very existence of a middle class, and we’re too asleep or exhausted to notice or care, much less do anything about it. We are breathing and eating and drinking literal poison and wondering why so many people are unwell. Humanity is sorely in need of healing, repair, revision. We need the return of sacred, empathic, and intuitive ways of knowing. All this other stuff is just so much swingin’ dick competition, left-brained bullshit drama, and I’m sick of it.

So here I come, with my spiritual jazz hands, bursting out of what my witchy friends call the broom closet. Baby look – I’m even more idiosyncratic than y’all thought! But here’s an awesome thing about being solidly in my mid-40s: I am all out of fucks to give about what anyone thinks of my fluffy, idiosyncratic ass. It took several weeks to really sink in after first realizing this a few months ago – that I could decide to just stop compartmentalizing myself and hiding half of it away from everyone. All it required was letting go of fear.

I began working in hospice in 2006 and that’s where I saw my first dead person show up smack dab in the middle of a session at a patient’s beside.  Standing politely by the foot of the bed, he was very specific about why he was there, and relayed information quite pertinent to the patient’s situation. It happened again, and then again a few days later with a different patient, and then I couldn’t shut it off.  There is of, course a lot more to this period of my life, but that’s a story for another time.

In 2007 decided I needed to open up to other realities and approaches; I tried Angel Therapy Practitioner Training, Energy Psychology, Ericksonian Hypnotherapy and The Aspen Psychic Development Program.  I eventually became a Reiki master teacher, which frankly sounds redonculonk to me, so I just say that I practice Reiki.  I met so many lovely people along the way. Inspired, I did every gallery reading/practice session/playgroup I could squeeze into my schedule, and for a time even read Tarot cards and did intuitive readings at a metaphysical bookstore.

Just as things were starting to take off in 2011, I quit. Why? I got scared. I felt exposed, “outed” and way beyond my comfort zone, even though I only provided readings pseudonymously and making no mention of my other credentials. And it had gone really, really well.  I loved being able to freely share information with clients that I wouldn’t in a million years dream of saying in a therapy session; I felt uplifted and aligned not only with Spirit but with my very own soul. Just as word was getting out here in Denver, I stopped, shut it down. Too scary, because I was still living in fear. Happy as I’d ever been in my professional life, but terrified of people really seeing what I am.

A life lived in fear is a life half-lived. 2014 brought many challenges and changes in the professional realm as well as in regards to my health.  I quit a position I’d held for four years, having no clear plan in mind, and floundered in trying to figure out what else made my life meaningful and nurtured my spirit.  I changed to a less emotionally taxing line of clinical work and threw myself back into university teaching. After a 6-month-long Dark Night of the Soul, I finally decided it was too painful to remain closeted any longer. I reasoned; if it’s good enough for Judith Orloff, Doreen Virtue, M. Scott Peck, and Clarissa Pinkola Estes, it’s good enough for me.

All the abovementioned folks are mental health professionals who at some point realized that there was far more to helping people than just talk therapy; there was the world of Spirit, of the connection to the divine, of the deep need for human beings to have a sense of connection, purpose, identity even beyond the mundane, to account for their anomalous experiences and to explore them in a safe, non-judgemental environment. To work towards deep knowledge of Self and the outer limits of consciousness while not forsaking others, while increasing the capacities for loving and being loved. To find one’s place in the stars.

And now I’m at a point in my life and career where I no longer care if anybody likes what I do or believe or say. I’ve made my bones, gotten my patch. I have nothing to prove anymore by hiding this part of myself, and in fact I feel I now have something to lose by continuing to hide it. I don’t run around touting myself as a medium or clairvoyant or Reiki practitioner, but I’m finally comfortable admitting that these things are every bit as much a part of my identity as being a psychologist, daughter, partner, devotee of Murder, She Wrote, part-time step-mom, auntie, sister, world-class belcher, and Midwesterner.

What I Do Now

What I do now is a stand alone process, held in sacred time and space, for the client to see for themselves, in the words of Clarissa Pinkola Estes what and how and why, according to their own soul’s sensibilities, for strength, knowing and healing. To create a more aerial view of people across the world, a way of looking at our commonalities that helps us see each other and that holy spark in all of us.

So: you can book a consultation. That’s what I’m into nowadays. This is the deal where I tune in to your energy and tell you what I’m seeing. No, it’s not like on The Witches of Eastwick or Charmed or Jersey Shore or whatever.  Or Poltergeist. Oh, no fuck that Poltergeist shit. It’s basically a conversation where we invite only the highest energies to speak and drown out my potty mouth.

Anyway. Energy is non-local, meaning I don’t have to be anywhere near a client to have a brief conversation, either telephonically or via email (maybe Skype later assuming its unrelated to Skynet what?). This kind of thing shouldn’t replace going to see other types of professionals for a definable mental or physical condition, duh.

It’s meant to be brief. I don’t want to hear from clients more than once every so often; too much threatens to encourage peeps to not trust their own judgements and intuitions, which I am very much against. Unlike psychotherapy, intuitive consultation involves a far more open paradigm of what causes change. The timeline is therefore open; there’s no pressure to resolve a longstanding issue or problem in a fixed number of consultations. The general goals of intuitive consultation are as follows:

1.  to increase understanding of oneself, one’s history, one’s relationships with others, or of the world aka Where You’ve Been

2. to promote a feeling of peace, clarity and calling aka Where You’re Going

3. to foster a sense of interconnectivity and empathy for all sentient beings, by recognizing that animating force shared by all of us, but which is far greater than us and contains everything we need in order to heal ourselves

4. to promote right action – healing the world

5. to increase the higher energies and God/dess’ presence in the world by inspiring one to be his or her best self

6. to bring you right down to the bone of who you are

7. to serve as a clarion to call back your Spirit

8. to help bring balance to The Force – are you paying attention?

9. to respectfully remind us that all life passes by

That’s pretty much it. You can still seek out psychic folk who will tell you all about your lottery numbers or what horse will win the Preakness, or who will promise to cure your bunions using rainbow farts and unicorn crystals. That’s fine, but that’s not what I do. I’m an intuitive who happens to be a shrink. My stance is similar to what I do in my other life; first, harm none. You have the added benefit of hearing my astute verbiage, forged in the rarefied fires of 800 years of graduate school education; that’s the “lagniappe” or something extra part. Well, that and my usual profanity stuff.

I’ll figure out the rates/fees stuff later. Go in peace, my friends. I am who I’ve always been, only more so.


Blockade Runner, Not Like Rhett Butler

Bonus: I also bring you the wreckage of what was once Eddie van Halen.


So here I lounge, with a busted up Achilles tendon, bilateral plantar fasciitis and a resurgent case of bursitis in my hip.  What this means is that by law I must now watch 17 episodes of the following television programs, based on my Suddenly Acquired Right To Bitch Nonstop About My Goddamn Lumbago*.  I can also eat unlimited amounts of Werthers Originals, wear a sweater when it’s like 96F outside, and throw some cats atcho haid.


Murder, She Wrote

The Golden Girls

Mystery! on PBS

The Love Boat/Fantasy Island double header (counts as one show, I took a poll)


Nah, seriously you guys.  I have writer’s block.  Write me some convoluted letters so I can tell you what to do.  FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES.


*I don’t have this.  Yet.



Phone: (720) 235-8135


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