You know how every gardener has to cut back their plants in the fall? It feels harsh at first—snipping away the blooms that once made us proud, the branches that reached too far. But any gardener will tell you: if you don’t prune, the plant can’t thrive next season. The dead weight keeps stealing the nutrients.

That’s exactly what the Metal season is asking of us.

In Chinese Medicine, fall belongs to the lungs and large intestine—the breath and the release. One teaches us to take in life, the other teaches us to let go of what’s done. Together, they hold the rhythm of life itself: inhale, exhale.

Grief isn’t weakness. That ache in your chest when you lose someone or something you love—it’s proof you cared. Proof you let yourself be touched by life.

The trees grieve too. Every fall, they cry out in their own language—dropping their leaves, stripping themselves bare, standing vulnerable to the wind. They don’t fight the season. They surrender, and in doing so, they prepare for renewal.

But we humans? We often resist. We hold our breath. We clench. We distract ourselves.

Here’s the truth: when an emotion rises, the chemical surge in your body lasts only 90 seconds. After that, it’s your mind replaying the story that keeps the pain alive. In those 90 seconds, you have a choice:

• Dive deeper. Breathe into the ache, let the wave crest and fall. Feel it move through your chest, your belly, your hips. Let grief do its sacred work of release.

• Disembody. Float out of your body, scroll, numb, shut down. The wave gets stuck. The grief doesn’t move—it roots into your tissues, waiting for another day.

So I’ll ask you, the way I ask myself:
✨ When grief rises, do you dive in…or do you leave your body? Remember, the body holds the score!

Here’s the truth: I can’t cry when I am sad.

I remember when my grandma died—and she was my everything—I couldn’t shed a single tear. I remember at her funeral, everyone was crying, and there was this expectation that I should be balling too. In fact, my mother shamed me at an early age for this. My body locked up. My throat closed. My eyes stayed dry. Stubborn to the core.

The shame piled on, because as a kid, I was already told I cried at the “wrong times” for attention. If an authority figure complimented me, I’d cry. If I felt truly sad? Nothing. Shut down.

I also didn't know how much anger, bitterness and resentment lived in my little body. But that's a conversation for another day. I am neurospicy, and sometimes my wires get reversed.

I didn’t know anything about emotional wisdom or regulation back then. I just thought I was weird. I remember literally trying to cry, forcing my face, hoping something would break loose…but nothing came. So, I got really good at acting. Smiling when I was sad. Nodding when I was numb. Pretending to be “fine.”

For me, grief and anxiety didn’t come out in tears. They settled in my hips and lower body. My ass clenches tight (yup, real talk here), like I’m bracing for an impact that never comes. My nervous system decided that holding was safer than feeling. But here’s the kicker: holding like that doesn’t protect me. It just keeps me stuck.

Part of my Soulprism cosmology is the guidance I receive from the Ascended Masters of the G Center. One of my deepest mentors has been Quan Yin—the goddess of compassion, she who cries a thousand tears.

She began walking with me years ago, guiding me when I took Holy Fire Reiki in 2015.

She’s been with me in my work in mental health, teaching me that true compassion isn’t just for others—it must start with myself. Every time I felt I had nothing left to give, she reminded me that self-compassion is what refills the well.

Her mantra, Om Mani Padme Hum, echoes through my practice—a prayer that opens the heart like the lotus.

Through her, I’ve learned that crying is not weakness.
✨ Crying becomes a prayer.
✨ Feeling becomes service.
✨ Compassion, for ourselves first, becomes the soil where resilience grows.

In Qigong, I practice the Lotus Flow, opening and closing the hands like petals. And sometimes I practice dry crying—a silent release where the body sobs even when no tears come. These are ways my body has learned to digest grief, to unclench, to soften, to trust.

Quan Yin reminds me daily: when we meet our own suffering with love, we heal not just ourselves—we ripple that tenderness into the collective field.

I listen to a lot of podcasts, books and take courses on this. Neuroscience tells us that when you feel an emotion fully, the chemical surge only lasts about 90 seconds. After that, it’s no longer the body—it’s your mind looping the story, re-triggering the wave.

So when grief rises, or anger, or fear—you’ve got a choice.

• Dive in and let the wave pass. Stay in the body. Breathe. Move. Let it crest and release.

• Or resist it. Clench, shut down, numb out, and carry it into another season, another year, another decade.

But here’s the big question: how do you actually FEEL when you’ve been taught to run, shut down, or hide?

Feeling becomes a skill that we learn.

We don’t just wake up one day and know how to be with big emotions. I’m so grateful that kids today are being shown—through movies like Inside Out—that every emotion has value. They’re learning early what many of us had to unlearn later: that feelings aren’t flaws, they’re guides. Feeling is a skill, and like any skill, it takes practice.

• Name It. When an emotion rises, say it out loud or in your head: “This is grief.” “This is anger.” Naming gives your nervous system context—it’s not the end of the world, it’s a wave.

• Anchor the Body. Place your hands on your chest, belly, or hips. This simple act of touch tells your body: I’m here with you. Safety starts with presence.

• Ride the 90 Seconds. Set a timer if you need to. Breathe. Shake. Cry. Sigh. Let sound out. Remind yourself: This will pass.

• Digest the Energy. Emotions are “energy in motion.” Picture them like food: if you don’t digest them, they rot inside you. Digestion = breath, movement, sound, expression.

I am learning that resilience is the real magic! Resilience isn’t about avoiding triggers. It’s not about never feeling grief, anger, or fear again. Real resilience is knowing:

• I can feel this and survive.

• I can ride this wave and come out stronger.

• I can digest this emotion and let it nourish me instead of poison me.

Every time you dive in instead of checking out, you teach your body a new story. You wire safety into your nervous system. You prove to yourself that you are stronger, softer, and more alive than the fear.

This is where the magic is. Not in running from the feelings, but in becoming the one who can hold them, breathe through them, and let them go.

Here’s a simple Soulprism ritual you can return to again and again—built on my 4 M’s.

1. Meditation – The Breath of Letting Go

• Sit comfortably, one hand on your chest, one on your belly.

• Inhale deeply through the nose, filling the lungs.

• Exhale slowly through the mouth with a whispered “ahhh.”

• With each breath, imagine pruning shears snipping away an old thought, pattern, or burden.

👉 I also recommend going deeper with Sam Kabert’s Breath School—he’s brilliant at making breath both accessible and powerful.

His weekly Breathwork Club has been a game-changer for me.

2. Mantra – The Words That Rewire

Whisper this out loud or silently with your breath:

“I release what no longer serves me. I trust the cycle of life. I am safe to let go.”

Repeat 5–10 times, allowing the words to land in your body, not just your head.

3. Movement – Shake, Circle, Release

Grief + anxiety love to hide in the hips and lower body. This part of the ritual helps you unclench:

• Shake It Out: Stand up and shake your arms, legs, spine for 60–90 seconds. Imagine old leaves dropping from your body.

• Hip Circles: Place hands on hips, circle slowly in both directions. With every exhale, picture grief composting back into the earth.

• Forward Fold: Bend forward, let your arms dangle. Breathe into the back body and release with a sigh.

4. Money/Manifestation – Composting Into Gold

Fall isn’t just about loss—it’s about creating fertile soil for what’s next. After the breath, mantra, and movement, pause and journal on this prompt:

• What am I ready to prune away this season?

• What gold (clarity, inspiration, abundance) is waiting to grow in the space I create?

Seal it with one final deep inhale + exhale, thanking your body for the release.

✨ This is resilience in action—not running from the feelings, but digesting them.

Don't hold onto your old stories, let them go and allow them to be the compost for your field of dreams. Turn that pain into power.

As I finish writing this, I actually felt tears well up in my eyes—and that made me smile. For someone who once thought they couldn’t cry, even a shimmer of release feels amazing. Am I the only one who gets happy when she cries?

This is the work of fall, the wisdom of Metal season: to prune, to release, to breathe, to let grief become devotion. It’s not always comfortable, but it is always holy and maybe a little hood.

And maybe that’s what true mastery really is—not having it all figured out, but being willing to stay an eternal student of life. Learning from the cycles, the seasons, the emotions, the moments that crack us open.

So if you’re reading this and feeling the clench, the ache, or the weight—know this: you’re not broken. You’re just human. And you can learn, just like I am, to let the leaves drop, to trust the wave, and to let compassion lead the way.

Ahhh, life. Messy, tender, miraculous. And here we are, learning to feel it all together.

I love you.

In this episode of the Soulprism Podcast, I sit down with Sam Kabert—TEDx speaker, bestselling author, and former Silicon Valley entrepreneur who walked away from a seven-figure business to find real fulfillment. Now, through his B.R.E.A.T.H Method and Soul Life Balance philosophy, Sam helps high performers regulate their nervous systems, clear brain fog, and reconnect with purpose.

We talk about why mental health is only half the picture—and why emotional health (the language of feelings) is the missing key. Sam shares the neuroscience behind the 90-second rule of emotions, why anger is often the root of everything we suppress, and how breathwork can safely guide us back into our bodies.

This is a powerful conversation for anyone ready to stop running from their emotions, build resilience, and create from trust instead of trauma.

✨ Topics we cover:

• Why mental health ≠ emotional health

• The 90-second rule and how to actually feel your emotions

• The neuroscience of breathwork & “shutting off” the thinking mind

• Anger as the root emotion and how to process it without judgment

• Moving from “sister of circumstance” to create mode

• Integration and aligned action as the real path to change

Learn more about Sam’s work at samkabert.com/club and check out his book Soul Life Balance.

This was experienced, while the sun was in Gate 47 in Human Design. Check out my blog here if you want to learn more about 'Oppression/Mindset' through the lense of another Goddess that I work with, Lakshmi.