I'm standing at the threshold of something I can't quite name yet. As we move deeper into Samhain season, I'm feeling the thinning of the veils and the weight of uncertainty that comes with transformation. In this post, I'm opening up about my struggles with self-doubt, why I'm taking a sabbatical from social media in November, and the incredible Between the Veils eight-day event I'm co-hosting with Dr. Melissa Bird. If you're feeling the call of this liminal space—if you're ready to decolonize your spirituality and reclaim your power—this one's for you.

There's a weight to this haiku I've been carrying. Mother nature sees the mindless ways humans kill her precious children. When I watch the natural world, I see cycles that make sense—predator and prey in honest balance. But we humans? We kill each other not from necessity, but from fear, shame, and scarcity mindsets. This poem holds my grief for what we've become, and my hope for what we might yet be.

On Tuesday night, I held space for twenty people under the dark moon. We journeyed into shadow, drummed in our ancestors, and named what we were releasing. The container was so strong that everyone could simply be human—shifting positions, tending to their needs, crying the good kind of tears. And when I pulled oracle cards for myself, Saraswati appeared with a clear message: Take the lead. Stop waiting for permission. You're a writer—so write. This is my reflection on what happened in that circle, what I'm claiming, and why I'm done holding back.

In many ways, food has been my revolution, my reclamation, and my sacred act of choosing abundance after growing up with scarcity. For the past six months, I've been documenting every delicious moment in my "Tasty things I ate in the last month" series on Substack. From hand-rolled birthday ravioli to meals eaten on paper plates between house-flipping tasks, each dish tells a story. This isn't just food porn (though there's plenty of that). It's proof that even in chaos—even when moving houses, even when stress-eating frozen custard sundaes as hard-earned rewards—nourishment can be sacred. Come see why food journaling became my love letter to anyone who understands that a good meal can save your whole day. Maybe your whole life.

The ancestors were in the room on Friday when Dr. Bird and I went live. I felt supernatural heat—like being encircled by a crowd of unseen loved ones, their breath warming the air. They had something urgent to say about soul elixirs, the blanket being passed, and why THIS Samhain portal matters. Soon, Between the Veils begins. The veil is already thinning. Are you ready to answer the call?

Well, friends, this ceremony had ALL the technical plot twists—my microphone fell apart, I was on the wrong mic, and my camera was reversed. But the magic? It flowed anyway. This New Moon in Libra brought powerful messages about new beginnings in love, boundaries that protect your energy, and yes, wisdom from a fabulous purple-feathered ostrich. Sometimes living out loud means showing up with tech gremlins and all. Come for the ceremony replay, stay for the revolutionary awakening...

This week's energy is all about connecting with the divine within you. I pulled three powerful cards from the Divine Masters deck—Ma'at, Rumi, and Buddha—each calling us to remember that we are both human and divine, capable of mystical knowing and heightened awareness. I'm also thrilled to share details about my upcoming 8 Days of Revolutionary Awakening Between the Veils event with Dr. Melissa Byrd, where we'll be decolonizing spiritual beliefs and helping you connect with your authentic expression of spirit. Join me for this week's Monday Morning Vibe Check!

I'll never forget the moment I realized I was sitting with two women who genuinely saw my book—not the version I hoped it could be, but the messy, beautiful, heartbreaking story I'd actually written. Amy and Nancy Harrington gave me something rare: honest, skilled, compassionate feedback that honored my vision while helping me strengthen it. This is my love letter to the champions who helped my novel find its wings, and an invitation for you to find yours too.

I've been holding my voice back—even after all this purification work. When Dr. Melissa Bird drew the Nightingale reversed in my reading, my throat caught. My body knew what my mind was still avoiding: I've been dimming my truth to keep others comfortable, just like my father did. The Divine Child within me is done being quiet. She wants to know why we weren't having FUN. This is what reunion really looks like—not perfect healing, but the messy, ongoing practice of letting my voice out without softening it. My throat is still learning to stay open, and that's exactly where the power lives.

My father died believing his greatest gift to me would be money. After 40 years of killing himself slowly for a number in an account, he left me with an inheritance I never wanted—the belief that worth comes from working yourself to dust. As I clean out his house and work with the Welsh myth of Mabon's return to the Divine Mother, I'm learning to release this legacy. I'm discovering that consulting ancient wisdom and honoring my body's 'no' isn't weakness—it's the key to finding my way back home to myself.

I tried everything to save my father's estate. For months, I pushed through declining health, family pressure, and legal stonewalls—only to be blamed when it all fell apart. But during the Moon of Purification, I realized something: I'd been carrying burdens that were never mine. Not just my father's unfiled paperwork, but his patterns of overwork, the eldest daughter expectations, and the belief that if I just tried hard enough, I could fix everything. Four years after his death, I'm finally ready to let it go. Read about what I'm releasing and what wisdom I'm keeping.

My father always promised we'd be "set for life" when he died. The reality? $23,000 and a house that became a symbol of everything he tried to give me but couldn't. As I scrubbed baseboards in wrist braces, I realized Park House wasn't just leaking from the roof—it was bleeding out the truth about inherited patterns of overwork and the American Dream we're sold. This is my story of recognizing how I became my father's daughter in ways I never intended, and my quest to finally break the cycle.

I'm wearing dual-wrist braces, a knee brace, and using my cane again—all within a week. As I prepare to let go of Park House, the physical purification of cleaning is revealing what needs cleansing within: beliefs about productivity over presence, about proving I'm "enough," about pushing through instead of pacing with wisdom. The Moon of Purification is asking me what I'm holding onto, and the answer goes deeper than I expected. Some of these impossible standards weren't just absorbed from society—some were inherited directly, along with the money that bought this house.

This week's Monday Morning Vibe Check brings three powerful messages from the Angels and Ancestors deck: the High Priest encouraging us to intend and create, the Stag reminding us to trust and thrive, and the Sun inviting us to enjoy success and happiness. If you've been resisting your dreams or doubting your path, this reading offers permission to keep going—even when things feel messy or uncertain. I share guidance for trusting your soul-aligned vision and creating from authentic joy, plus updates on upcoming events and personal projects. Whether you're navigating big life transitions or simply seeking weekly spiritual guidance, this vibe check offers encouragement to define success by your own rules.

I've been going through so many life changes lately that I've been overwhelmed. My fibromyalgia has flared from the physical effort of moving furniture and preparing Park House—my first owned home—to sell. But as I scrub and paint, guided by the Moon of Purification and the medicine of wild thyme, I'm realizing this isn't just about cleaning cobwebs. It's about purifying my spirit of the weight I'm carrying unnecessarily. Join me for part 1 of this 6-part series as I explore what it means to truly let go.