Creating Connections

I’m about to leave you all in the dark for four days, traveling south for a little camping trip with the boys.

Creating Connections is a MONSTER! I feel like it will quickly go from being my idea, to being handled by someone more in alignment with it’s purpose. This is the place to go to find out how to create a non-profit, for example. Have you ever had a dream so big, it felt impossible? That’s usually because you don’t know the first thing about how to get from point A to point Z. Creating Connections will be your mentor every step of the process, from shaky beginning to thriving end.

Bella Life is more about providing instant relief to those suffering, even people in near constant emotional distress. I initially supposed that Bella Bakery would at least have to make a profit in order to fund my other ideas. The exact opposite is actually true, I’m told. Bella Bakery, also includes relief for those suffering from long term or terminal illness, by providing beautiful cupcakes made with a special ingredient or two: Love and medical marijuana. That’s right, I hope to grow weed for a living.

I have recently learned the most valuable lesson someone risking everything needs to learn in order to ever thrive. Trust.

I hope your weekend is profitable, leisurely, and warm.




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”.



I once prided myself on being a “Rebel”, but now all I want is NOT to feel that bit of guilt that always accompanies “doing something wrong”. Or out of the ordinary for my sex, age bracket, or mom status. Especially my mom status.

I often second guess myself, and sometimes I actually am shocked by my own antics once all is said and done. “Did I really say/do/write that?!” I know there is  a certain way to behave in public, but that’s the thing … THERE ARE AN AWFUL LOT OF RULES IN LIFE!!

I argue with myself a lot on most subjects under the sun. I can’t help but laugh at the fact that I relate more to a 21 year old Britney Spear’s song lyrics than I probably should at my age, even though we’re actually only a year apart in age. It’s sort of embarrassing to be coming out of my shell at the age of thirty three! I keep thinking, “shouldn’t I have done this in my twenties?” I was in fact, too busy nursing babies, and giving my boys all of the experiences I probably craved in my own youth.

I wouldn’t change that, but it’s a little awkward to be embracing my full power as a woman as a mother, and later on in life, when I “should know better.”

I know what song this is, “I’m not a girl! All I need is time, a moment that is mine …”

It’s like one is supposed to cancel out the other, in order for me to be good at either. If I’m to be considered a great mother, I really should stop posting near nude photos of my mom body on Instagram. And if I’m to be a sexual being, I should lose ten more pounds and get a boob job. If at all possible, I should decrease my age by ten years as well.

Honestly, I don’t know how to not feel guilty about being a mom and also wanting to be Alisha. Our society would tell me, “pick one”. I’d always pick motherhood. I have more often than not. It is my highest calling!

But what about Alisha?

What about her feelings? Her needs? Her wants? Her dreams? Her desires? Her fears? Her pains? Her plans? Her hopes?

A lot of people would argue that once you’ve had children it isn’t about you anymore. They are right, but in a world where people actually love themselves, wouldn’t there be time for both? And don’t people thrive when they love themselves? Aren’t happy women, the best mothers?

I think parenting is one of the hardest things we ever do with our lives. And we all agree that it’s also the most rewarding.

The worst that can come of loving yourself and placing value upon your own life as a person too, is that it would teach your children real respect for the parents they sometimes are guilty of thinking revolve around them. If we want to know how we created the last generation of entitled people the world is still moaning about, I just wrote it. We took our own value as full fledged human beings away and placed ourselves at the feet of our own children!

In the words of Britney, “I’m a slave for you …”

If I want to teach my sons to be strong men who love themselves, I must be the woman I fear the most: Me, unedited, imperfect, and a little bit selfish.


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.


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