A story about a lone wolf woman
The moon begins its morning descent and the last few stars flicker away into a sky of pastel strokes slowly awakening in the light, her footsteps pattering amongst the soft soil as twigs gently snap with her passing by.
This is her leaving her cave — dark, snug, warm, peaceful.
The womblike space she called home, the one she built carefully over years, that helped her stay safe, loved, accepted.
And even though it was actually kind of perfect, (who doesnt give a full exhale when they've finally got the house to themselves?) it's also starting to feel suffocating.
Like the only way she could remain safe in that cave was to keep swallowing her light to keep the dark warmth close.
To keep the light hidden in the cave, to avoid the eyes that cannot handle its vibrance.
A version of her up late at night, reading her tarot cards in candlelight, when everyone's asleep and judgemental eyes can't see her.
So she walked, maybe for the first time ever. Because she knew her flame was only getting warmer, brighter, wilder.
Demanding to be made visible…
…so naturally, she ventured out to the one place where it's natural to shine your wonderful messy light…
A lively bar down the road.
A place that always made her ears perk up and her heart skip an excited beat.
She opens the door with a delicate tinkle of a bell and steps over the threshold, a moment forever locked in time, a moment where she knew, everything could change…
She enters, and for the first time in a long time, forgets to shrink.
She walks in tall, her breath steady, her eyes taking in the space with an internal chuckle, the laughing women, some chatting earnestly, some reading tea leaves, some reciting divine mantras and others trying to read each others minds.
She forgets to look around to see if anyone is looking at her untrendy shoes or the way she has done her eyebrows.
She pulls up a stool, sets down everything she's been carrying, and before she even has a chance to apologise for not having looked at the menu, the bar witch is already sliding over a cherry red cocktail in a golden chalice — exactly what she envisioned before the words could even form in her mouth — and says,
"You don't need to explain yourself here… just… know yourself."
She realises… this isn't a normal bar.
Everyone here is already in the knowing.
They already accept that the flame shines bright, in direct contrast to how much the darkness is embraced. It was built that way.
Not as a space for endless healing, or learning, or bettering. This is a space for becoming, for opening, and creating room for the light that lives inside you to shine brighter than you ever thought possible.
The kind of place where the conversation gets real and deep, fast.
Where the round table was designed to have room for everyone. No one at the head.
No one holding court while the rest wait their turn.
And nobody's pretending they need courage from liquid, when they drink straight from the sweet womb of sisterhood.
They know that power arrives when you allow your light to be witnessed.
Do you hear yourself in her?
Are you, She?
You've been doing this alone for so long it's started to feel like that's just who you are.
Pause here. Let that land.
You've been doing this alone for so long it's started to feel like that's just who you are.
Pause here. Let that land.
You've been doing this alone for so long it's started to feel like that's just who you are — The one who figures it out herself, who lights the candle, feels the room, knows the thing before anyone says it — and then goes home without telling a single person what she picked up, because who would understand?
"You know how those raised eyebrows and glossed-over eyes feel. So you know to keep it quiet."
You're not new to this.
You've spent a lifetime reading the books, doing the practices, sitting with yourself in the dark more times than you can count. Going to worlds that are beyond worlds, and unlocking levels to yourself that are beyond groundbreaking, with no one to celebrate your wins. Because how could they understand?
Thats a specific kind of lonely.
There's a specific kind of exhaustion that comes from carrying gifts you've never been fully witnessed in. A specific kind of lonely that no amount of solo inner work can touch.
You've tried the circles.
They were nice enough, but they left you feeling like you were performing something — like the space was beautiful but you all just blended into it. You held the stick, shared your truth for a few minutes, not even knowing if anyone was listening, and then spent the rest of the weekend in a vulnerability hangover and lingering anxiety over what felt like a monumental overshare that was received by dead air and averted gazes.
Back to doing it alone.
So you went back to doing it alone and told yourself that was fine. That you didn't need it. That you were better off self-directing. You were too much for groups, best to keep that light burning where it doesnt reveal how you dont fit in.
But you're here.
Which means some part of you already knows that's not the whole truth.
You don't have to have years of this behind you — time isn't what qualifies you. It's the thread running quietly through your life. If you can feel it pulling, you belong here.
First round's on us.
This one's free. No strings. Just come.
One evening with us and something moves in you that years of solo practice couldn't touch — not because we told you something you didn't know, but because you finally felt your own knowing reflected back by women who weren't afraid of it.
You stop trying to get everyone to understand you. You stop hiding your tarot collection or your obsession with Human Design.
You feel, maybe for the first time, like the room was actually built for you.
Somewhere around the second drink, the priestess across the bar waves her hand slowly over your chalice, revealing the thing you didn't notice was there this whole time. Your inner flame — your light, glowing, radiating, steady — like it's been waiting for someone else in the room to be able to see it too.
You realise it isn't new. It was always in there. It just needed someone who knew how to look. Who knew how to help you truly see.
Some people call that a breakthrough. We just call it last drinks.
So. What are we pouring?
A Priestess & A Witch Walk Into A Bar is a free, live online gathering held every sabbat.
Two women who have spent years doing this work, both on the solo path and together, holding space for something real — with no performance, no love-and-light bypassing, and no pressure to be anywhere other than exactly where you are.
Each gathering weaves together shamanic energy healing, voice work, somatic practice, feminine remembrance, and the kind of psychic and priestess magic that has always lived in you, even when you kept it private.
One of us holds the space and the other tends the room, because we believe in what happens when women witness each other doing their own work — not just facilitating yours.
This goes underneath the surface ritual — because this is the work that actually moves something.
Tonight's menu.
What you will find yourself activating and receiving
The Transmission
Your body actually feeling the shift rather than your mind understanding it — real energetic movement, not just information.
The Homecoming
Practices that work with your actual wiring, not the love-and-light version that never quite fit — in a room where you don't have to translate yourself because the language is already yours.
The Signal
A group that stays alive between gatherings so the container doesn't close the moment the Zoom does, because the real conversations always happen after last drinks.
The Loudening
Your own power, turned up — not because we gave it to you, but because we stopped asking you to keep it quiet.
The Shift
The felt sense of what it's like to be held at depth, which changes what you're willing to ask for going forward.
Meet your guides
Your guide
Jess
Jess is a mother to two wild girls. She is a multidimensional healer and channel for the Sacred Feminine, with 17 years in soul-deep healing and the unseen. Bridging the stars and the soil, Spirit and body, she helps women untangle what keeps them stuck, trust their intuitive gifts and reconnect with their own knowing. Her work brings the unseen into something you can actually feel, embody and live.
Your guide
Mel
Mel is a mother, artist and mystic whose work weaves shamanic practice, somatic healing and self-reclamation. Through movement as medicine and her devotion to Mother as Priestess, she helps women reconnect with their bodies, reclaim what has been lost or buried, and meet both their shadow and light with greater freedom and self-trust
Our next gathering
JOIN US FOR OUR NEXT GATHERINGWe meet every sabbat. One of us opens the bar. The other tends it. You show up as you are.
A note on the exchange
We believe in real exchange.
The kind that moves energy in both directions and creates the conditions for transformation to actually land.
This is free because we want it to travel. Share it with the woman you know has been doing this alone — the one who lights the candle and doesn't tell anyone, the one who would never describe herself as spiritual but always knows things before she should.
All we ask is your name and your email
Pull up a stool.
A seat has been prepared for you.
YOUR INVITATION IS WAITING
Come as you are. We'll meet you there.
This will be one of MANY FREE LIVE exchanges. By joining you are signing up to receive offerings and communications from both Melissa Rose Stone of The Mystic Playgrounds and Jessica Worthy of Jessica Worthy Intuitive. You can unsubscribe at any time.