welcome to the grove.

hello, friends. for the last few months, my partner jeanna and i have been dreaming about a creative, collective space: a long-term container for creation, exploration, devotion, and magic. a place where spirituality and creativity can weave together as they so often do; where roots can tangle and fruits can be shared; where magic is a living, breathing thing that supports us individually and strengthens us collectively.

and now, finally, the time has come to tell you more. welcome to the grove: six months of collective creative devotion, with jeanna kadlec & meg jones wall.

beginning on the new moon in aquarius in january 2025, the grove is a six-month collective experience for supporting your creative goals, dreams, and explorations with magical and spiritual tools. whether you're devoted to a specific project or are eager to build up your relationship to your own creativity, the grove can help you deepen the magic in your own practice, while building community and accountability along the way.

if you're already itching to enter the grove, you can learn more and sign up right now. but if you'd like a gentler introduction to how this space came to be, and what we'll be building together, read on.

i've always been surrounded by creative people. from discovering theatre in high school and working my way from running crew to stage manager, to surrounding myself with singers and actors and dancers and performers since i was a child, i've always loved losing myself in stories, creating and wandering through new worlds.

books, movies, television shows, fine art, games, d&d, theatre, and perhaps above all music and writing, have made me the person that i am today. hilariously tragic, in hindsight, that when i was younger i didn't think i was a creative person at all.

since i was young, i've been able to harmonize with ease when singing; put together colors and textures that just work; quickly whip up a meal based on whatever was available. yet because i couldn't draw or paint, because i didn't like being on stage or performing, because i tend to wear simple black clothing instead of bold patterns or bright hues, for the first twenty or so years of my life i didn't think i had a creative bone in my body.

instead i saw myself as a facilitator and supporter of creativity: someone who could build out the frameworks and structures that allowed others to boldly, yet safely, express themselves. i documented, organized, refined, held people accountable, all in service to a larger creative story or project. i told myself that my work and my skills enabled the magic that was built in those spaces — that even if i wasn't creative myself, i helped make those creations possible.

even as i was teaching myself photography, describing wines and cooking elaborate dishes for my master's program, reviewing hotels and restaurants, making perfumes and body products in my kitchen, working on production teams for giant food festivals, and styling props on television sets, i told myself that i wasn't a real creative. i still felt like an imposter, someone who had never learned the rules and was making everything up as i went along.

but here's the thing: improvising is creative, trying new things is creative, and the act of breaking rules requires vision, courage, spirit, and creativity. all qualities that i, and so many others, possess in spades. yet because my creative pursuits and preferred mediums didn't fit into the mold of the fine arts, because i hadn't earned an MFA or taken decades of private lessons or won awards, i told myself that my creativity somehow didn't count or matter. and many of those notions, those false narratives, have spilled over into my perception of my spirituality, too.

(it's all bullshit.)

because now: i can say proudly that i'm a full-time, self-employed writer, author, teacher, creator. a self-taught photographer, who cooks new dishes constantly, who still harmonizes with every damn song i hear, who has deep and profound relationships with spirits and deities that my younger self would never be able to conceive of. every day i weave words and images and flavors and ideas together to tell stories, make offerings, inspire and support, teach and build, connect and discover, nourish and encourage. every day i find the magic within and around me, and turn that magic into something tangible, something real.

it's okay if your creativity doesn't fit in a box, isn't neat or tidy or certified. it's okay if your spiritual practices are different than everyone else's, or if you make them up as you go. that's the big, dirty secret: everyone has the capacity for creativity, and for spirituality. yes, even you. and what those practices look like is entirely up to you.

on my own, i can tell myself all kinds of nasty, untrue things: that my creativity is too small or strange, that my spirit relationships aren't ritualized enough to be real, that my inability to stick to a routine somehow negates how prolific and magical i can be.

but it's been in community, in relationships with other creatives and spiritual workers and teachers and students, that i remember how powerfully magical creativity can be, and how delightfully accessible spirituality can be. it's in community that i see my gifts and talents not as a strange, disconnected hodgepodge of useless interests, but rather as an insatiable curiosity to connect with the magical and the mundane of this world, through any means possible. and it's in community that i've learned to celebrate the many jobs i've had, the many interests i've pursued, to acknowledge how all of those threads have tangled into the beautiful life i live now.

when my own magic is reflected back to me — when i see people using my tarot spreads, or finding inspiration from my book to create their own writings, or bonding with other practitioners in my discord server — it reminds me that creativity does not happen in a vacuum. and it demonstrates to me that spirituality and creativity are better together.

it's from this passion, this bone-deep knowledge that creativity and spirituality and community are inextricably linked, that the idea for the grove was born.

jeanna and i are both writers and teachers and creatives. we're also both facilitators, people who love holding space for learning and discovery and connection. and from years of friendship to falling in love to our upcoming wedding, our relationship has always included the intimacy and joy that comes from sharing creative and spiritual pursuits. even without each other, we'd be writing books, giving tarot and astrology readings, creating resources that help to facilitate personal discoveries — but together, as a pair and within our broader communities, we do so much more.

and we want to do it with you.

over the course of six months, we'll share space in a private grove discord server, connect and set goals with monthly meetups, and create alongside each other in bi-monthly co-working sessions. we'll share tarot spreads and astrology wisdom through recorded workshops and support resources, and encourage you to offer your own ideas and resources too. but perhaps most importantly, we'll celebrate wins, hold spaces for obstacles, offer encouragement, provide accountability, and give you spiritual tools for creation all along the way.

the grove is for anyone who wants to incorporate more consistent creativity into their lives, and to use spiritual tools and community to do so. if you want to carve out space for creative work in 2025, if you're itching for folks to cheer you on and support your efforts in a long-term project or daily devotion, if you loving using tarot and astrology in your creative practices, if you're eager for a magical place to retreat to when the world feels impossibly dark, the grove is for you.

we officially begin on january 29th, 2025. but if you sign up in the month of december, you can snag early bird pricing and an extended, generous payment plan. get all the details and sign up now:

we can't wait to build something beautiful with you 🖤