The Poverty Thread

I had a breakthrough today, involving a past life memory surfacing. I have recently revealed my plans to one day serve the poor in Africa. I’ve always talked about “holding babies in Africa”, not knowing exactly what that meant until later on in life. Like, there’s a title for that?!

During a conversation about past lives, an image of a little African boy appeared in my minds eye. I mistook this child for someone else at first, before realizing in utter disbelief that I was seeing myself in the body of a little boy in Africa in a past life. I had lived that entire lifetime (all five years) knowing the pain of hunger every day of my life. Until one day, my tiny frail body collapsed due to malnutrition.

After sharing this with some friends, one of them asked me how I relate to my body in this lifetime, as past life memories never really leave us. This single question triggered a release of tension in my physical and emotional body, as I understood how connected my life as that little boy is to me in this current life, as a woman in America.

The emotional body (a brief explanation) is where every single cell memory you have ever made is stored. I tap into this frequently in order to heal, and I feel like tapping into this life as a starving child was important in the way that it detailed for me an account of my “poverty thread”.

I’ve literally lived another life where I’ve actually starved to death, like the children I wish to grace my presence with someday, God granted, of course.

The part that really makes sense and brings a sense of clarity to my entire personality is that not only have I starved to death in a physical life, in this particular life I’ve compared my spiritual journey to “starving to death emotionally.” There’s a reason I choose to find a way to eternally refill my cup, I’m always thirsty for more! This goes beyond mere curiosity about what lies around the corner, it’s literally the way I’ve survived my entire life.

Poverty thread runs deep!

I chose to walk a spiritual path because I’m hungry. If a soul craves food, it’ll find a way to eat. You can’t eat a junk food diet of shallow intention and expect to survive a life like the one I’ve lived. I’m of no more value to the rich and powerful in America than that little boy felt he was to parents who were burdened by his life, because they couldn’t feed him.

I compare my metaphor, “emotional starvation”, to a scene in one of The Pirates Of The Carribean” movies. The entire crew was cursed to an eternal life of hunger, while being given no real way to end that hunger. They eat, but the food doesn’t nourish them, and the wine doesn’t quench their thirst. It goes right through them.

This is why many, many, many, people choose a spiritual path. We are searching for ways to end our pain, and hoping that our travels ultimately lead us to happiness.

In this physical life I’ve often felt burdened by my human body. Simple things like having to stop whatever I’m doing to eat can be irritating. I don’t connect to my body as much as some people do. I spend a lot of time in other dimensions, where I feel more at home, and safe.  I also, have a lot of compassion for the poor.

I’ve also managed to create poverty and hardship for myself in this lifetime, as my cellular memories have never faded.

Once a thread begins, it must unravel too.

I feel relief today after connecting to this memory. My emotional poverty makes more sense. My desire to help people, particularly in Africa, adds up (not that it needed to to a compassionate heart.)

In my minds eye, I am taking this child who was me, holding him in my arms as he leaves this world, and reassuring him that he was never a burden. He breathed his last breath, not angry, but saddened by a world who couldn’t (or wouldn’t) feed him.



The Divine Masculine

The most sought after man on the planet will one day be The Divine Masculine: An Awakened man with high moral fiber. If it isn’t already. All I speak to are women who are tired of being hurt, of being insulted, of being treated less than a man because her gender is female. Any women still supporting the archaic ideals of the past are clearly women, in my humble opinion, who haven’t really fallen in love with their own Divine Feminine yet.

I grew up being called names like “bitch, slut, cunt”, because I’m female. I grew up being shamed for owning my sexuality, by men who are offended by their equal. And women who are also ashamed of themselves, and can’t energetically lend their support to their sisters.

I grew up hearing one type of woman being raved about, as if the genes she was born with made her worthy of a man’s lust. And that was supposed to mean something? The polar opposite was hearing the insults about women who weren’t obvious beauties in the eyes of men who were raised to value nothing more than the shell of who a woman is, and call that being a man.

It is no wonder I’m angry and disgusted by the way I’ve been treated as a woman in this lifetime. My friend sent me a link to a website called the Good Men Project. I think it’s a start and a foot put in the right direction, but my generation of men leaves me cold. I literally am not turned on by the lack of moral fiber in this generation of grown up boys. Boys who ruin relationships because they chase an ideal, that frankly doesn’t exist anywhere but in a magazine.

I’ve had married men hit on me, men with girlfriends insinuate that they would trade the one they currently brag about on social media, in for a date with me. This isn’t personal, this is the burden the unawakened men bare. They are as confused about what makes them lovable as women are.

A real man … the words used to insult me, as I’m raising boys to be men. And I don’t wish for them to be categorized and stigmatized for being male, anymore than I’ve enjoyed my journey as a woman for that reason.

What is a real man?

He isn’t someone who is threatened by a female in her full scope of femininity. In fact, he kind of appreciates that which he does not possess, and therefore will never fully understand.

He doesn’t immediately objectify women as sexual objects, because even though he may be very attracted to her, he wants to know who he’s sleeping with before he proves his manhood by “conquering” her. You know, like she’s property of some kind.

He is in strong defense of women’s rights, because … you know, she’s a human being too. And her rights are his rights. There is no petty difference between her worth, and his own.  I feel a lot of men have daughters before they realize this, but it’s time to change that in my opinion.

He doesn’t pick his partners based on appearance alone. That is saying a lot more about his own sense of self worth, than it is about her. He’s figured out that there’s always another pretty body and face just around the corner, and he’s had enough of beauty ideals being shoved down  his own throat. Like, he’ll define what he likes, all on his own. His mind is fully capable of understanding the difference between what he’s being asked to like and support (eating disorders, plastic surgery, keeping women in the 1900’s) and what he ACTUALLY likes. He has no shame in breaking the rules by pursuing that which isn’t considered ideal, because to him a woman’s beauty only grows with inner beauty. In other words, he’s removed the blindfold and operates as a bright and unique individual capable of making his own assumptions about right and wrong, beautiful or not beautiful. Like a real PERSON.

If faced with something hard, he doesn’t run. He uses the opportunity to grow, to evolve, perhaps to fix what he did wrong in the past.

He cares about people other than himself, and other than a romantic partner. He is in fact, probably a volunteer of some kind, or an entrepreneur in the healing field. His energy is contagious and predominantly healing for all who come into alignment with it. Including … WOMEN!

He knows his worth, but would never put himself above anybody, especially someone he’s been intimate with. His ego simply couldn’t fathom actually believing he’s better than anybody else.

When I speak of the Divine Masculine, few men come into mind as we currently stand. And that to me, is part of the biggest problem we are facing currently. All we have to do is look at whom was elected President. A racist, homophobic, woman hating man is running the United States of America. I am absolutely insulted by this. I want to defend the unawakened, for they are asleep.

It is a path of learning to love ourselves as we are, that we are on. Making a few changes never hurt, of course. I’m never saying “remain stagnant” when I say “love yourself”. Sometimes that does require actual change. You can’t love what you don’t actually love, but you can journey into what might cause you to feel more compassion for yourself. It is self love that will lead us out of the catastrophy. And only self love.

To heal the mirrors in front of us, we must heal the reflection behind the mirror first. One step into the unknown, a shedding of the skin of the past, or many as we go.

Ask yourself with every action you take, or don’t take, “Do I love myself if I’m treating my mirror this way?” If that’s not enough motivation, ask yourself how well you sleep at night operating the way you currently do. You can’t escape yourself, try, try, try, as you might.

In the words of Justin Beiber “you should go and love yourself”.


Soul Mates And Twin Flames

I I haven’t been able to successfully finish an entire book since the year 2012. That is the year the energy increased on the planet, and in my own life. I no longer feel pulled to do anything, including reading, that has no significant value to me, and maybe even the world at large. It’s like I can’t function on normal human autopilot anymore. It’s been kind of frustrating honestly, but only because my path hasn’t materialized enough to give me reason to believe I’m standing on solid ground.

I recently picked up a couple of books from the Twilight series, New Moon and Eclipse. I own the movie series, and have seen Twilight so many times I feel I can skip it and still enjoy starting off my spring/summer reading list on book two. One chapter down … wish me luck!! I used to be an avid reader, before my Awakening. Now I hope I can read one book from front to back.

I love the Twilight series, though I’ve from the beginning I’ve always been a bit old for them. I was already a mother of two young children by the time they were published. Still, there’s something so magical about the world Stephanie Meyer’s created, and a non-typical romance between a mortal and a glistening vampire.

I have come to despise what the human ego calls love. From my often higher perspective I see nothing more than hurt and a lack of love, in most relationships. I hate that we are so willing to settle for something that should be, used to be, about legitimate romance and mutual attraction on a soul level. People used to write love letters, love songs, hold hands, look into one another’s eyes beneath a night full of stars. I am insulted by the fact that most adult relationships begin with sex. And then hopefully lead to real love. In the words of Cher from Clueless, “AS IF!”

My heart longs for a relationship like Edward and Bella’s, one that from the beginning is about more than meets the eye. A soul mate/Twin Flame kind of love. I feel like in our society it is all too common for us to push two lonely people together and ask them to fall in love, rather than encouraging them to hold out for something real and above average in every way. Few will come into alignment with their actual soulmate, because of this, but can you imagine if they did?

POWER COUPLES are held up in  high regard, put on a pedestal for a very good reason: Both partners love themselves before entering the relationship, therefore they are legitimately able to love one another once they meet. Anything else for either of them, falls short and simply isn’t worth the effort or energy it would take to get it off the ground, or maintain something that isn’t truly beautiful and inspirational.

They’ve had normal before. They’ve had hurtful. They’ve had burdened and abusive. They’ve had ugly and wrong. They’ve had Mr. or Mrs. Can’t love as equally or as ardently as they do, before. They are the barer’s of much love, and inspirational hearts to match one other person on this planet, their soulmate.

They’ve lived lifetimes without one another. They’ve dreamed dreams about each other since the beginning of time, never really understanding where the void in their heart stems from. They hear all the time that another person doesn’t complete them, and they know that. But the void in them would tell them that somebody out there isn’t here yet, isn’t in their arms, isn’t wearing their ring, isn’t their King to their Queen. A major part of you is missing, you sense it. When the other half of your soul is gone, you’re supposed to.

Life is great single and chasing dreams, but love will soften and enlighten. Embolden and inspire. It will break down those walls you’ve built and shatter the human illusion you once lived in. I personally would rather dream about romance, than find myself in a relationship that is made up of empty, hollow, meaningless ideas about what mere mortal love between a man and a woman is.

If it isn’t real, it isn’t good enough.

P.S. I’m actually really embarrassed about my Inner Romance Junkie, so please don’t tell anyone I wrote this. I can be violent when it’s necessary, keep that in mind.







Fairy tales and Nightmares

We are dreaming with our eyes wide open. A dream within a dream …

The Sixth Dimension belongs to creation. It’s literally the only dimension where all future realities, or made up realities, exist all at the same time. I tap into this dimension when I read people, and when I attempt to see my own path a little clearer. This is the dimension your average every day psychic taps into when he’s delivering a message about what path you’re currently on, and where that will ultimately lead you.

Nobody can see everything that is coming. And nobody, no matter how good they are, can predict the future with one hundred percent accuracy all the time, because energy is constantly flowing and changing. Evolving as surely as the people who create these realities are. What was once a fantasy, upon manifesting, can sometimes feel like a nightmare instead.

I can attest to the fact that on my spiritual journey, I’ve lost more than one created “nightmare” for my own benefit. Meaning, though it hurt, a lot in some cases, all my vibes were really saying was, “you’re no longer a match to this turnout because you actually do love yourself!” I call this “DODGING A BULLET.”

The truth is as bad as I might think I want a certain “someone” (or something) from time to time, if I allow enough time to pass I start to sense or physically find proof that they bare my demons, which is why I’m even attracted to them in the first place. As I heal I like to trust that this is all for my highest good,  that once I figure out why they’ve come into my life, I can move on to MUCH BETTER!! The realities we create when we don’t love ourselves …

In the 6th Dimension along with the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, and Unicorns, exist relationships that will never bloom, babies that will never be born, and your worst fucking nightmares. Be thankful our thoughts haven’t yet reached the point of instant manifestation while we are Earthbound. Be thankful for the buffer between worlds, that is human ego, when it serves you.

I, personally, am blindfolded sometimes as I travel my path, led to believe not all possibilities are possible, and that is a benefit. Traveling a leaders path wasn’t meant to be easy, or you wouldn’t have been born with the thickness of a warriors skin.

The sky is the limit when you’re dreaming, but what if God’s dreams for you, of you, and about you, are something you can’t tap into? And what if they’re better than your fragile human mind can fathom?

Enjoy your sleep, my dear.


Psychic Love Bubble

If you have more than one person with high psychic energy in the same room, you can create a psychic love bubble. My cousin and I dubbed it that one afternoon, as we lay under a blanket on my bedroom floor in a complete state of bliss. We are both Empathic and transfer energy to one another easily. Her psychic energy literally makes the portal between worlds non-existent for me. As in, I have more ghostly activity when I’m standing next to her, than I ever do otherwise.

I’ve met a few other people in my life who’s energy pushes me over the top, and others who drench my natural abilities in realist energy (dims my abilities/light). These people, the ones who activate me, are my Angels and my saving grace in a world where I often feel as if I must hide.

A small group of old souls and artists, the beneath the radar type of kind souls and caring people who sometimes feel the world is not designed for them, gathered together to seek out art and adventure last night. We perused galleries, admired the art, walked past the homeless shelter on Angel Road (RIO GRANDE) and enthusiastically co-dreamed of the day we would have a booming and thriving non-profit in Bella Life. Then we gathered beneath the stars, on a case of stone stairs near a cemetery, ate pizza and talked about life and the paranormal worlds we fear telling strangers about.

I have felt alone for so long in a world all my own, that it still surprises me when people I know share their own experiences about Awakening, or having been awakened and alone since they were children.

Last night was full of ghostly activity, beginning at the antique museum in downtown Salt Lake, and ending with us leaving a very friendly ghost woman from the 1800’s waving goodbye to us in my minds eye.


The energy can become stifling after a while. These antiques each carry their own ancient energetic imprint, and sometimes that of their now long deceased owners. Put all of these items together in one building and you have one nauseous psychic by the end of the whole tour. More than one of us had to leave, no questions asked.

Upstairs in one of the hidden rooms that is kept dimly lit up, where we’ve bumped into “bad energy” before, is a very proud noble man of some kind. A King? His energy was attached to a set of hand carved wooden closets pushed to the back of the room, not currently on display. He was a cheerful host, his arms on his sides, in a stance of great pride over his valuables.

There was an older woman, a librarian type or old school marm who was more than happy to give us a tour, as long as we didn’t take pictures. I made the mistake of snapping a photo after she’d kindly warned me not to, and her energy became dark but not malevolent. She waved her finger at me, and said “give it back.” I deleted a few pictures. I got the feeling that either some of her own objects were in an upstairs room, or some of the objects she’d shown others on tour of a museum she’d once worked in, were.

At one room all of us agreed whatever was inside that room, didn’t wish for us to enter it. I stepped into the door frame and picked up the energy of someone who wasn’t angry at us, but protective of whatever was inside the room. I scanned the room, but couldn’t locate exactly what she was protecting. Her energy wasn’t demanding that we not enter, but pleading for us to reconsider, like “you can come in if you want, but I’d just rather you didn’t.”


Often my light combined with another’s light will draw in more than one ghost. As we left the stairs near the cemetery we left behind a group of spirits who’d come to see what the activity they were sensing was. I wonder what that dimension is like, and if we are ghost to them. It would make sense.

A woman from another century, wearing a pretty blouse and long skirt all the way down to her ankles, connected to me. She began to sort of dance around me, asking “Can I help you?” She genuinely wanted to help me in some way if she could. In my minds eye I saw her standing behind a small picket fence, the sun shining down VERY brightly on her, welcoming me into her yard.

Again, I wonder if we are ghosts to them in another dimension and she is me in that life, sensing spirits, connecting to them, wanting to help if she can.

As I grow up I find myself wanting physical beauty or a collection of Gold less and less. Moments spent beneath the stars, connecting to like minded individuals are what my soul needs. We aren’t alone or lonely, but surrounded by confused and lost souls. And yet, we don’t need to be them.

Be the light, it’s magnetic.

Magnetic enough to draw in a entire cemetery of ghosts.









Angel Road

In my last blog post (Bella Life) I wrote about making a donation to a local homeless shelter. There is a portal on the road where the people were lined up outside, from our world to the one above us. Heaven, I guess I could call it.

The most powerful Angels stood in that spot, watching over the homeless. I could see them in my minds eye, they were so tall. And they were much bigger than an average sized person.

The first thing that caught me off guard was the way the pigeon’s were behaving. They were flying around this spot in circles. You couldn’t even drive down the street. It was the most surreal behavior.

Hope and I walked down the street, as I pointed out things I really wanted her to make sure to capture on her Go-Pro.

At this part of the road, right in the middle, was the unmistakable feeling of something Godly.

I guess with the amount of suffering people lined up on that street, and the prayers from them, their family, and people who care, we created this Angelic Portal. That is my explanation.

Somebody is watching over us. In our worst moments we can be sure that there is someone who loves us.


Bella Life

Bella Life will be my non-profit, dedicated to serving the poor and alleviating the symptoms of a much bigger problem in the world: Corruption and greed, and lack of compassion or understanding for the poverty stricken people of America. And maybe one day, Africa.

I started naming everything Bella, including myself last year when I realized the little girl I’d seen in my visions would never actually be born. I had picked the middle name Bella for her. I know it sounds strange to pick the fruit from a tree that hasn’t bore any yet, but this is the world I live in.

I think though we opt into lives that initially test us and make us wonder why we’re here, in the end, with enough determination to the truth of who we are, we do stumble upon our calling.

Bella Life is in the beginning stages of becoming a real thing. I’ve served one homeless shelter so far by collecting Christmas Stockings full of necessities this past Christmas. My friend, Hope, was included and she filmed the outside of the building. I’m being brought to tears as I write this, remembering the lines of people sitting outside the building, waiting in the cold for a place to sleep, or eat, or both if they were lucky.

I spent some time being homeless in my teens. My mother had lost her husband and was supporting four children on a meager minimum wage salary. She lost her home due to not being able to pay rent on time one Christmas. We stayed in a seedy hotel for a couple of months, while she searched for anyone who would let her rent with bad credit. This proved to be harder than she thought and the ultimately the family was split up. I remember owning one pair of clothes during that time in my life, a pair of scrubs and a tank top that belonged to my friend.

We ate the same thing every single night, macaroni with tomato sauce. And we were asked, as teenagers who should have been attending school and playing sports, maybe running for class office, to work for the food the church gave us. In fact, the church was less than happy to serve three teenage children without them working for the food they claimed to offer the needy with hearts full of compassion, and in the way of God.

This project is close to my heart, and I hope that the powers that be want it more than me, because I’m in the same situation my mom found herself in once: Choosing a life of known hardship or refusing and breaking out of my role as someone destined for a life of poverty. I don’t mind being “poor”, as long as I’m serving a mission that isn’t supporting harmful and corrupt Government systems.

I’ll keep you posted on my progress, my projects, and where Bella Life leads me.


My Birth

My whole blog thus far has basically been setting the foundation for what I do next, by allowing you a glimpse into my past. It shows you exactly why I choose Authenticity over any other kind of self expression. It ties what will be into what was, a perfect blend of tragedy and triumph. Mine truly has been a life worth sharing, and will continue to be.

My birth has set the theme for my life. My twin brother and I were born premature via c-section in a university hospital in Salt Lake City, Utah. We were delivered six weeks early, both put on breathing equipment for a couple of days. My mother had Pre-eclampsia related problems, and needed to be induced before our lungs (especially mine, being the smaller twin) were fully functioning on their own.

I stopped breathing for what my mom was told was “up to five minutes.” In later years, she remembered the confusion surrounding the time of death of her newborn infant. One nurse told her it had been 12 minutes, another said it was closer to fifteen. The Dr. himself announced that it had been five at the most. All of this is untrue, as it was actually closer to 19 minutes total. The moments between my birth, my death, and my rebirth, was nearly twenty minutes of no breathing from my tiny baby body.

When I visited my friend Teal, I knew something had occurred during my birth, but I also knew she trusted me enough to eventually connect to my higher self and know what that was. I almost asked her “what happened when I was born?” The feeling that something was being covered up was that persistent.

The truth has a way of coming out, whether or not we file a complaint against the integrity of the people involved. Trust me.

I have the gift of sometimes being able to see a path that has yet to unfold, before it has fully manifested.  I see unborn children years before they exist. I see partners before they’ve actually become husband and wife. I see the outcome of the Superbowl three days in advance. That’s how energy works, it snowballs and becomes nearly real before it is real, often changing if the course is changed soon enough, or too soon.

Any seen path is always at liberty to change. That is in and of it’s self is enough of a reason for me to live my life according to my own set of values and following my own heart. We simply never know. Even with psychic technology in my hands, I’ve done some serious backtracking in my life.

Though I do love some of what I see in my future, I know the present moment is all that really belongs to me.

The power of now, is the only real power any of us possess.


Aura’s And Duality

I recently started “seeing” aura’s. They appear in my minds eye, rather than physically. This is surprising even to me. I’ve never been someone who actually sees things physically, not since I was a kid. I see them in my minds eye.

I was scrolling through my news feed on facebook, stopped to look at a profile picture someone had uploaded, and “just like that” their aura color, size, and shape appeared to me. I’ve tried the old fashioned way of seeing them, standing against white, blinking rapidly, squinting my eyes, but never had any luck. I am excited about this new development in my spiritual journey. I think it’s the perfect addition to my “tools” meant to assist me on my journey.

I bare the gift and the burden of Duality. I see life from both perspectives, the human ego and the spiritual perspective. I believe I have this gift because it’s valid in my line of work. I am a bit of a chameleon and change my perspective based on who I’m with. I literally become their vibrational twin.

We often choose not to deal with the human ego part of us, and latch onto some crystalized idea about what a spiritual person should look like instead. In other words, we keep ourselves trapped in the very place we’d like to escape: Suffering.

My friends like the argument that suffering isn’t something we have to do, and I agree. The problem with opting out of suffering altogether, is that you don’t. It’s like putting a pot on the back burner, and hoping the pot doesn’t eventually boil over.

It’s still THERE!!

As I walk the path of true spiritual leader I realize the world might not exactly feel ready for me.

Avoident’s of all kind run when they see me coming.

I am a mirror.

The mirror often doesn’t like what it sees.

The gift of Duality is a beautiful gift if used to heal. My ego will not be forsaken in the process of healing, but used. Perspective is ninety nine percent social conditioning after all, and we are all walking around constantly tip toeing the line between acceptable and not acceptable. It truly always depends on the power you give yourself to see life one way or another. I choose both, because that’s my job.

My people, have been without a spiritual teacher for a very long time. They can’t latch onto something that isn’t relatable or safe. Tupac Shakur was the last known spiritual teacher on this Earth that gave a voice to this brand of “low vibe” individual’s, as the world would label them, in a snotty way, of course.

Nobody has the right to judge a path they’ve never walked.

The shaming of people in pain, chronic pain, suffering, is what concerns me. I lived a life of secrecy because people implied that in order to be loved and respected I needed to rise above my own traumatic past and rapes, like they had never happened, like they didn’t affect me, like they hadn’t changed my entire outlook on life.

Enough is enough. This secrecy will hold us down forever. They want us to be silent in the face of mass societal abuse. Why wouldn’t they? It serves them if our army is silent.

It takes one voice to make a difference. I know because it was the work of another spiritual teacher who refused to remain silent, that has sparked this flame in my own soul, and given me a reason to live again.

There is nothing you shouldn’t talk about. Pick your battles, but know your army, and act according to your own code of ethics. The war isn’t with each other, it’s with the mirror that reflects back to us our own self hatred.


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