The Dark Side Isn’t the Moon

They’ve looped around the dark side of the moon… that mysterious, shadowed hemisphere we’ve mythologized for centuries. And now they’re returning to Earth, greeted by headlines, applause, and the quiet hum of technological triumph.

And I can’t help but think of The Dark Side of the Moon.

Not because of space, really, but because Pink Floyd was never singing about space. They were singing about us, about time, fear, pressure, the quiet strain of being human. The things we spend most of our lives trying not to feel.

And yet here we are, quite literally circling the dark side of the moon, while continuing to avoid the dark side of ourselves.

It’s almost poetic.

Also a little absurd.

Because while a handful of very well-funded humans are out there looping the moon, the rest of us are down here trying to keep it together in the middle of ordinary life. We’ve gotten very good at building technology, very good at solving external problems.

But when it comes to what’s happening internally – emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, we’re still, for the most part, avoiding it.

We know how to go far.

We don’t always know how to go deep.

And that’s where things start to catch up with us. Not because something is wrong, but because what hasn’t been felt doesn’t just disappear. It waits. It surfaces. It asks for attention in ways that are often uncomfortable enough that we’d prefer to stay busy, distracted, or focused on something – anything – outside of ourselves.

So we keep building. Keep achieving. Keep reaching outward.

But reaching outward won’t help us navigate the internal terrain of a true emotional liberation path.

Meanwhile, the more meaningful exploration is sitting right here, largely untouched.

What’s actually happening inside of me?

What am I avoiding?

What is trying to move that I keep holding down?

These are not small questions. And they don’t resolve through thinking alone. They require a different kind of engagement. One that includes the body, the emotional field, and a willingness to stay present to what arises.

For many people, especially those who feel overwhelmed or activated, quiet sitting can actually intensify what’s already there. The mind gets louder. The body gets more agitated. It doesn’t always create relief.

Which is why I’ve come to trust more active, expressive approaches to this kind of work, ways of engaging emotion that allow it to move, rather than asking it to settle immediately.

This is the kind of “space” I’ve been holding in my Elevation Ceremonies – guided, active, and designed to help you work with what’s coming up, from anxiety, anger, sadness to other emotional buildups, in a way that feels contained and supported. Some people include cannabis, not to escape, but to soften into the experience and access what’s usually kept locked away.

If you’re ready to explore honestly, without shortcuts, I invite you to join the next online Elevation Ceremony later this month. It’s live (and recorded), free, and a chance to step into your own inner frontier. It’s not about altering reality; it’s about being more honest within it.

Because if we’re going to put this much time, energy, and money into exploration, it’s worth asking where that effort is actually needed.

We’ve proven we can leave the planet.

The real question is whether we can learn how to be here… more aware, more connected, and a little less at war with ourselves.

So yeah, go to the moon.

Circle the dark side.

But don’t forget the one who’s been waiting a lot longer.

With Love,

Becca

P.S. If you’ve been thinking, “I wish there were a place to actually work with what’s going on inside me,” this is it. My next Elevation Ceremony later this month is a space to meet your emotions head-on (cannabis optional, self-honesty mandatory).