March has always felt strong and magical to me. This year brings seven full moons, three Friday the 13ths, seasonal crossings, and the quiet reawakening of the natural world.
On Tuesdays like today, and for nearly two decades and through hundreds of seasons on this blog, we have explored so much together—from how climate and cosmic rhythms shape our spiritual lives, to the deeper work of surviving trauma and finding our way back to ourselves. For those of you who have been on this journey with me, across oceans, cities, and miles I may never travel, please know how deeply grateful I am that you are here.
It is an Aries, Fire Horse kind of season—full charge, full spirit. But truly, it belongs to all of us. Every season invites a cosmic shift that asks us to move, reassess, outline what matters, release what no longer serves us, and grow—often in the most uncomfortable spaces.
This season has asked much of me.
This month, I will undergo breast cancer surgery. In the weeks that follow, I will begin chemotherapy and radiation treatments. It is a road I did not expect to walk this year, yet it is the one before me.
The point here is not to seek pity. The point is that we always have a choice. We get to choose how we show up in the world.
And through all of the chaos, the disappointments, and uncertainty, I still choose to show up in a world that has not always been kind. I choose clarity. I choose love, loyalty, and determination. I choose to offer a hand, a conversation, a moment of presence—whether to friends, readers, or strangers passing through these digital pages.
As I move through treatment and recovery, I will continue to show up here as much as I can, bringing reflections that fuel growth, spark imagination, and offer a lens through which we can better understand both the beauty and the brutality of being human.
This has been an extraordinarily difficult year, and any support offered during this time, even a message of love and light shared here, will help carry me forward.
Your presence alone, taking the time to stop by and engage with my perspectives, as you have over the years, is already a gift.
Through all the people I have helped—and those who have helped me—one truth has become clear: none of us were ever meant to carry life alone.
I am sharing my fundraiser with you in the spirit of honesty and hope, with the wish that you might also share it within your own communities. Any contribution, no matter the amount, will go directly toward helping me cover medical bills, housing during treatment, transportation to appointments, and the stability needed to focus fully on healing.
Truly, no donation is too small. Every gesture of kindness lightens this journey.
Again, thank you for being here.
Thank you for reading.
And thank you, deeply, for your kindness.
— Rochelle, Publisher, Tuesday Morning Love
