August’s Sacred Ember
In this universe we are given two gifts: the ability to love, and the ability to ask questions. Which are, at the same time, the fires that warm us and the fires that scorch us.
-Mary Oliver
August is the month of golden embers.
Where July burned fierce and untamed, August is the slow glow after the blaze—the heat that lingers in the air, humming low and deep. It’s the season’s exhale, the moment where the fire settles into coals that warm rather than scorch.
The sun is still high, but softer now, gilded with a hint of farewell. The wild woman in you doesn’t dim—she deepens. Her fire is no longer a roar; it’s a steady pulse in the chest, a smolder in the bones.
Smolder and Shine
August is the sacred ember. The tender heat that sustains. The reminder that fire isn’t only for burning—it’s for carrying.
Where July demanded you roar, August asks you to listen. To your body. To your heart. To the whisper that says: Keep the flame alive.
This is your reminder: You are not a single season.
You are the spark, the blaze, the ember.
You are every stage of the fire.
Ask yourself:
Where is my heat softening into strength?
What quiet truths are glowing beneath the ashes?
How can I carry my wild flame into the turning season?
The Wild Woman Glows
August belongs to the woman who knows her own light.
She is the warmth of sun on late-summer skin.
She is smoke curling into a dusky sky.
She does not rush her fire—she lets it simmer, low and strong.
Her freedom is steady. Her power is patient.
She drinks in the last wild days of summer and does not apologize for savoring every drop.
August’s feminine energy is sustaining, grounding, quietly fierce.
Ways to Tend Your Wild Embers in August
Honor the harvest: Gather what you’ve grown, literal or spiritual. Celebrate the fruits of your fire.
Move like smoke: Slow dances at dusk, gentle stretches, floating in warm water. Let your body exhale.
Speak your glow: Write words of gratitude, whisper promises to yourself for the season ahead.
Feed the ember: Eat roasted corn, honey-drizzled figs, sun-warmed berries—foods kissed by summer’s last fire.
Create a harvest ritual: Light a single candle at sunset, thank your wild heart for surviving and thriving.
Nourishment for Your Wild Heart
Herbs & Plants
Chamomile — for gentle grounding
Rose — heart-opening and softening
Lemon balm — a calm spark of joy
Sage — clearing and carrying wisdom forward
Wild Foods
Figs — sensual and sweet, a taste of abundance
Late-summer berries — tart, juicy, fleeting
Corn — golden and grounding
Honey — liquid sunlight for the soul
Energetic Allies
Magnesium — to relax into the season’s shift
Ashwagandha — steady fire, calm strength
Vitamin D — to store the sun inside you
The air is the only place free from prejudices -
Bessie Coleman
The Spirit of Bessie Coleman
The first Black woman and Native American woman to earn a pilot’s license, Bessie Coleman burned through every barrier the world tried to throw in her path.
Born in 1892 to sharecroppers in Texas, Bessie picked cotton as a child and dreamed of the sky. But in America, no flight school would take her because she was both Black and a woman. So, she taught herself French, crossed the ocean, and earned her license in France in 1921.
Bessie returned home not just as a pilot, but as a wildfire. She performed dangerous stunts in the sky, refusing to take flight for any show that segregated audiences. She used her platform to demand representation and equity, declaring:
"You’ve never lived until you’ve flown."
Bessie Coleman’s fire was not reckless—it was deliberate. She didn’t just want to fly; she wanted to crack open the sky for every woman who came after her.
August carries her energy:
The quiet ember of persistence.
The slow burn of a dream no one else believes in.
The heat of a wild heart that refuses to settle for the ground when it was born for the sky.