For as long as I can remember, I've had this vision:

Myself as an old crone woman with a cottage in the woods, and a small but lovely apothecary out back - a separate building where I conjure medicines and tinctures to serve the people of my village.

This felt like something I was working toward living into.

And then, several years ago, my first major identity work revealed: Medicine Keeper.

The keeper of medicines.

And now?

The Apothecary at the Edge of the Woods exists.

Not as stone and wood (though maybe someday?!), but as this - a digital dispensary where I prepare remedies for soul ailments.

If you're here, something called you to the threshold.

Oh, by the way, my name is Angel.

Two months after my mother's unexpected death in 2019, I set off down the path that has become this work. She was 62. I was 42.

"What if I only have 20 years left?"

That question kept ping-ponging around my brain. Everything I'd been pretending, performing, and postponing suddenly became impossible to ignore. When you truly grasp that your days are numbered, you want to stop wasting them on what doesn't matter.

I'm here to dispense medicine for those sick of pretending, waiting, and within lives that lost their aliveness a long time ago.

The soul ailments I treat? Disconnection from aliveness. Chronic "someday" syndrome. The suffocating feeling of going through the motions while your soul feels buried alive. The urgency of unspoken truths when time is running out.

I prepare tinctures (workbooks), elixirs (workshops and courses), and protocols (deeper work). Some work fast. Some require longer healing. All of them ask you to stop pretending and start being.

How I see what needs tending:

I work with diagnostic tools that reveal what's hidden beneath the surface:

Understanding who you came here to be (not who you've been taught to be). Your birth chart as archaeological map.
Revealing what's emerging now, what wants attention, what your soul already knows but your mind keeps ignoring.
Mortality awareness as clarity medicine. When you truly grasp that your days are numbered, all the bullshit falls away and what matters becomes crystal clear.
Because insight without embodiment changes nothing. Practical ways to live what you're discovering.

These aren't separate tools. They're different ways of asking the same question: What wants to be lived?

Who finds their way here:

People arrive at this threshold in different ways, but they share some things in common:

They're feeling soul-sick. Sick of pretending, performing, postponing. Sick of the Groundhog Day existence. Sick of feeling dead inside while everyone else seems fine.
They've reached a breaking point where staying suffocated feels worse than the discomfort of change. (h/t to Anaïs Nin here).
They know there's more. They just can't access it. Yet.

They're ready for depth work. They want practical mysticism, not "love and light" platitudes. They know their darkness isn't something to fix; it's an archaeological site waiting to be explored and integrated.
They're often in major life transitions. Empty nest. Career crossroads. Identity shattering. The floor fell out, and they're in freefall, wondering who they actually are beneath all the roles they've played.

If you're reading this and thinking

"yes, that's me"

the apothecary door is open.