The Medicine Beyond the Sting: When the Song Becomes the Healer
- Karen Di Gloria
- Nov 6
- 4 min read
The Season of Descent
This is the time when the sky invites us inward.
The veil thins, the air cools, and Scorpio’s sting asks one question:
Are you willing to face what you’ve buried?
The ancients called this the season of death and rebirth, but to those who dare to look beyond the Scorpion’s sting, the truth reveals itself through Ophiuchus—the thirteenth constellation, the serpent-bearer.
He doesn’t fear the venom; he draws it out, learns its rhythm, and turns it into medicine.
We’re all being asked to do the same.
To let what’s unconscious surface—not to punish us, but to free us.
To clear the cobwebs in the corners of our soul and listen for the song beneath the noise.
The deeper I journey, the more I realize: the medicine was never outside of us.
It lives in the sound of our breath, the pulse of our blood, the vibration of what moves us.
But we have to let the frequencies move.
For me, that portal is music.
Every song becomes a conversation between my ego and my soul — a bridge between what hurts and what heals.
The melody knows where the words can’t reach.
It slips beneath defenses, stirs the shadows, and brings the light back online.
No matter the genre, music is a universal language — a mirror, a teacher, a medicine.
Here are three songs that have carried me through this season’s descent and back toward light.
(click above to listen)
"You have been hurting so much
I need you to breathe again."
"We tear our demon
You feel no pain
In the sweet surrender
Alive again."
There’s something about these words that feels like the soul whispering to the self that forgot how to soften.
The ache has gone on too long, the holding too tight — and now, the only instruction left is breathe.
This is the moment the wound stops being the enemy and starts being the doorway.
We tear our demon — not to destroy it, but to release the illusion that it was ever separate from us.
In the sweet surrender, we finally feel what we’ve been running from: the aliveness waiting underneath the pain.
Breathing becomes the bridge between resistance and remembrance.
(click above to listen)
"It’s like nothing ever works
And it only seems to hurt
Show me how you feel
Show me how you feel."
"We’ve been chasing old ideas
It’s a lonely way to live.
Show me how you feel
Show me how you feel."
This one hits like a confrontation between the heart and the mind — the voice inside saying, “Enough. Show me the truth.”
We’ve all lived here — chasing old ideas of what should fix us, who should love us, what success should look like — until the soul can’t bear another repetition.
The pattern becomes obvious: it’s not working, and it’s only hurting.
The loneliness comes not from being without love, but from being without feeling.
To feel is to return home to the body, to the pulse, to the real.
To feel is to stop performing healing and finally live it.
(click above to listen)
"Driving through the endless, open blue to
All the places that I used to know
Smoke rings running through my mind when
Visions in mind start to grow."
And then — after the descent, after the surrender — comes this: the opening.
The horizon stretches wide, and suddenly the colors return.
Healing, it turns out, isn’t a finish line. It’s a spiral — endless, open, blue.
Each memory, each “place I used to know,” drifts through like smoke rings — not to haunt, but to remind us how far we’ve come.
The visions begin to grow, and what once felt like collapse becomes creation.
This is the Ophiuchus medicine — not to avoid the poison, but to transmute it.
To let every hurt become a hue, every scar a spectrum, until the whole life turns hypercolour.
Closing
This season isn’t here to punish us.
It’s here to purify us.
To remind us that shadow isn’t a curse — it’s the compost that grows the soul.
Whether it’s through music, movement, painting, silence, or prayer — find what helps you breathe again.
Let it move the frequencies through you.
Let it show you your own serpent medicine.
Because this is the real art of transformation:
to turn what once hurt into harmony.
To find, in every ache, a song.
If any part of this touched something inside you, I’d love to know.
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Until next time,
Karen Di Gloria
💖🎼✨
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