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The Strength in My Bones: Practical Magic, Ancestral Blood, and Learning to Lead Myself at 60
At dawn this morning, the air on the beach was a sharp 9°C. There was no wind—just a crystalline, autumnal chill hanging utterly still over the shore. The sun was only just peeking over the land, not yet high enough to touch the water or wake the sea breeze. It was a suspended, breath-held moment: the full tide lay deceptively smooth and flat, even while the day’s heavier weather hung out on the horizon, its inky sky quietly promising rain and a stiff breeze once the tide began to turn.
Yet beneath that glassy surface lay a hidden, teeth-baring edge. Every so often, the water would suddenly rear up, curling into threatening, frilly crests right along the shingle. This beach is notorious for its secret power—famous for catching unsuspecting bathers off guard, tumbling them hard, and pulling them into the fierce, tricky undertow that scours the shoreline. Standing there completely alone, save for the silhouette of a single fishing boat slipping quietly home along the dark horizon, that danger wasn't just a caution; it was a living memory. Years ago, in this very month of September, the sea nearly took my life. That day branded a cold, visceral terror into my heart that never truly left. To stand alone on the pebbles, watching that treacherous shore in the exact month that nearly claimed me, meant facing an old, powerful ghost.
Every survival instinct in my body screamed to stay wrapped up on the dry shingle. That still, biting chill in the air only magnified the hesitation. For decades, I have known how to be fearless when someone else is trembling—how to stand tall, absorb the shock, and lead from the front so those I care for feel protected. But standing on the water’s edge with nobody to be strong for, I met the quiet part of me that wanted to shrink back and whimp out.
Then, I took a breath and stepped over the fear.
I walked straight out into the full tide—and to my sheer astonishment, the sea opened up at a velvety, welcoming 19°C. Ten degrees warmer than the biting air I had just fled. Floating in that calm, glass-like expanse, suspended between the warmth of the water and the bruised clouds gathering far out to sea, something profound shifted deep in my marrow. You only ever discover the warmth once you are brave enough to leave the freezing shore.
For sixty years, I have performed bravery to keep others steady. Today, I was brave entirely for myself. That fierce Fire Horse energy finally turned inward: I learned how to lead my own body through the cold.
The Women in My Blood and the Magic of Letting Go
That dawn threshold arrives in uncanny lockstep with the cosmos. Arriving on Friday the 11th, the New Moon in Virgo brings an earthy, grounding clarity to our lives, landing with the sweet synchronicity of Practical Magic returning to our screens.
When the original film was released all those years ago, I was a young single mother in Scotland, clutching three pairs of tiny hands in mine—my son and my two daughters. Back then, living differently and carving your own path didn't draw applause; it invited cold scrutiny, whispers, and judgement. I spent years acting as a fierce human shield, wrapping my three children in unconditional love so the chill of the outside world wouldn't pierce their spirits. I had to pretend to be completely unbreakable.
Now, all these seasons later, the wheel has turned.
My children are fully grown, carving their own sacred paths. My eldest daughter is a mother herself, making me a grandmother at sixty. Floating in the sea this morning, watching that distant fishing boat slip quietly home, the truth washed over me with absolute certainty: my job of pretending to be brave for them is complete.
They are safe. They have their own strength now. In releasing the exhausting role of the perpetual protector, I found something ancient, enduring, and whole: myself.
I am complete without needing to manage their world. I am my own family, because I carry my family line within me. The DNA of the resilient, wild, enduring women who walked before me is humming through my veins. Their strength lies directly in my bones.
Like the sisters in Practical Magic, we spend so much of our early lives trying to outrun curses, dodge criticism, and hold the roof up with sheer willpower. But the real medicine begins when you stop bracing against the storm, put down the heavy armour, and realise the sovereign blood running through your heart is already home.
Breaking the Cycle: Learning to Parent Ourselves
Learning to lead yourself at this stage of life requires a radical kind of honesty about how we treat our own bodies.
When life shakes us, when fear, sadness, or shock strikes, our old conditioning immediately throws us into the survival ring. We lurch into anger, frantic stress, or collapse into that helpless "poor me" zone. What we don't see in the moment is the biological toll: that chronic panic floods the nervous system with inflammation, battering our immune system until our bodies are forced to slam on the emergency brake—knocking us flat with sudden illness or bone-deep exhaustion just to give us an involuntary day off from life.
It is an exhausting, vicious loop. But we have the power to break it the moment we realise that our bodies are simply waiting for us to parent them.
Instead of letting panic drive the vehicle into fight-or-flight, we can make the conscious choice to go to love first. When fear or grief knocks, what if you didn’t reach for resentment or despair? What if you wrapped yourself in the same fierce, steady warmth you would offer a frightened child?
Going to love first diffuses the fire before it scorches your biology. It calms the adrenaline, protects your immune system, and grants you the somatic courage to dismantle decades of inherited survival habits. You stop waiting for the world to keep you safe and finally become the sanctuary you were searching for.
Virgo’s Gift: The Sacred Art of Discernment
Virgo often gets reduced to tidy planners and rigid perfectionism. But its ancient, true gift is far more tender: discernment—the gentle art of keeping what nourishes you and letting go of the rest. Sitting on the threshold between late summer and the inward turn of autumn, this earth sign doesn’t demand that you do more. It asks you to be honest about what you are carrying.
A New Moon in Virgo offers a clean slate to ask: What protective identities am I still holding onto out of habit, even though the battle ended years ago?
True Lensomy—unconditional love—lives in the physical details of how we care for our nervous systems. When we clear away the emotional clutter of who we had to be to survive, we create breathing room for our true nature to return. As Mercury enters Libra and Venus moves into Scorpio, the earth beneath our feet asks for conscious anchoring. It is time to harvest the wisdom from what the past laid at our feet and let the rest blow away with the tide.
Everyday Practical Magic: Tending Your Hearth
Real magic is never about grand, dramatic gestures. It is quiet, somatic, and woven into the ordinary rhythms we choose to make sacred:
Sip Warmth into Your Centre: If the autumn air leaves you chilled after stepping through fear, restore your inner hearth. Hold a warm mug in both hands, stir clockwise with an intention for deep peace, and let that steady heat settle your belly.
Touch the Ground: Step outside and feel the morning dew, walk the shingle, or spend ten quiet minutes tending to living soil. Let the earth absorb the mental busyness and old survival tension your nervous system has stored.
Streamline Your Daily Flow: Look at your routines with compassionate honesty. Where are you over-functioning? Where are you carrying emotional weight that no longer belongs to you? Lay it down. Create a daily pace that honours your life force energy.
Lead Your Own Animal Body: The next time self-doubt tries to convince you that you cannot do it alone, pause. Place a hand over your heart, breathe through the hesitation, and remind your body: I AM Brave, I AM Free, I AM ME.
Journal Prompts for the Virgo New Moon
Light a candle, wrap yourself in something warm, and write from the heart:
Where have I fallen into anger, panic, or the "poor me" trap instead of offering my body love first?
Where have I been performing bravery for others while doubting my own inner strength?
What ancestral strength and wisdom live in my bones that I am ready to claim today?
What simple, practical daily boundary will protect my peace as the dark half of the year approaches?
You no longer have to pretend. You are sovereign, your ancestors walk with you, and that warm, steady calm inside is always waiting for you to come home—stepping out of the coldness of feeling alone.
Home is love. It is your true nature, held within the whole of creation, with no beginning and no end. It just is.
Always Lensomy,
Lucinda xxx
P.S. If your nervous system is longing for that safe hollow to pause, do less, and return to your own true nature, explore our autumn Solo Sanctuaries and exclusive small gatherings in the Bride Valley at www.lensomylifestyle.com/retreat.
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