Sacred Portal

The future belongs to women. The present is leading us out of the oppression that has plagued us and kept us in “our place” since the beginning of time. Where there is a following, there are leaders. The women leaders of today are proof that though the path is rocky for women, it isn’t impossible to continuously pave new roads.

Where there is a will, there is a way.

I think we can still become lost in the idea of what any true leader looks like, but sometimes it’s sitting right in front of us. For every famous woman leading us into higher ideals, there are thousands who remain anonymous, behind the spotlight, unpolished, and unable to find their way to higher ground.

Women still don’t make living wages. They are still fighting the war on equality. They can’t come to an agreement even, with each other, about which rights should be kept around, and which ones are a sin.

I watched a documentary on abortion just the other night, and I couldn’t help but see both sides, though I am pro-choice. I ask myself, the only deciding factor really in this case, would I want that right to be taken from me? Obviously no, there are too many other factors that would play into a decision like that one.

Life is complicated, and women are the Queen’s who often save the day when it comes to the things nobody ever has to think about, but them. In particular, mothers. We weep for our youth, for fantasies that never came true, for the paths we chose that never led us where we wanted to go, but instead kept us trapped in less than satisfactory conditions.

One of the glaring truths that sprang up again and again while watching this documentary, was that nine times out of ten the reason a woman chose to abort a child was because she was financially strapped and already taking care of other children she could barely feed. The fear in their eyes was pervasive and nobody gloated about having to make a decision like the one they were making.

A decision a man who couldn’t become pregnant, would ever have to make. Babies change lives, in particular the lives of women.

This right is hanging in the air, with the possibility of being taken from us, when the consequence would belong solely to women. Women who aren’t being paid living wages. Women who aren’t being helped with the burden of parenting a child she had help making. Women who are afraid of being unable to feed the children they already have.

This isn’t a blog post about abortion rights, so much as the heart and soul of this world we live in, where mothers are continuously placed on the bottom rung of the ladder, and then have their fingers stomped on as they try desperately to hold onto anything that will keep them afloat.

I can’t imagine the luxury of having a child not only that society makes easy to walk away from, but one that doesn’t pull at your own heartstrings enough to keep you around. Or maybe I can, because a man can plant a seed, but it blooms because of a woman.

A mother is a special person, whether she has lost a child, given one up for adoption, or made the decision that she couldn’t bring a baby into a world that can’t support it’s best interest at this particular moment in time.

A mother’s heart beats in unison with the unborn, and she bleeds the same blood for a time.

No matter where you find yourself this Mothers Day, you  need to know how precious and sacred you are, as the actual Earth Angel you are.

Portals exist where Angels get through. A mother is the most powerful portal between world’s.

And that is why we fight for the rights of women.



Redemption Song

Recently the theme I’m seeing pop up in my reality is “redemption”. You can imagine how heavy the real life events that lead up to a theme like this must be. To redeem one’s self means to save one’s self from error, or sin.

I chose to follow my own heart, which has led me into the life I am currently living. I try to base everything I write off of love and integrity. Being human, there is often room for error. I am same as you, we argue with the mirrors that don’t feel good to us until they shatter and we see, not clearer, but all the pieces we didn’t see before.

I’ve been analyzing a recent situation in my life from every angle, through the pretend lens of each key person involved. Literally, each story sounds a lot different than the others. That leaves room for judgement and hurt.

I stick to my core revolving around issues I think are important, because I don’t believe I would have been born into the life I was, were this perspective not so incredibly valuable. The same can actually be said, for you, and you, and you. There literally can not be a right and wrong, which in and of it’s self can and does often lead one into apathy. If everybody is right, and nothing is really wrong, what do I stand up for?

This is the important message I’m being asked to share with you: You stand up for what feels right to that inner child in you who just wants to be loved. What would love feel like to your inner child? What kind of world and people does your inner child desire to live in and live with? Were you to expose yourself to certain elements, would you inner child die or suffer loss, or would she thrive?

That is your core, and that is what matters the most to you. It is where you find your ideals, and what is worth standing up, even if it means strongly opposing other people and ways of life. And most likely it does, because it’s supposed to in order to see real change.

I made a video I posted on facebook about “taking personal responsibility containing the phrase, “we are all, no matter how different we are from one another, no matter our beliefs, striving for the evolution of mankind.” I had to laugh out loud later, as I realized how true my own words are. If we are one, and each perspective bows to the power of oneness, no matter (again) the different perspectives, on a soul level we really are helping each other evolve!

There must be opposition to grow!! Stop looking for easy and start honoring “tough lesson’s”, and the ego’s resistance to these lessons fades.

I wrote recently a passive aggressive insult about the Jenner sisters. I wrote this even though I knew it wasn’t loving or kind, and many people would bow out of taking my side because of these missing aspects of my words. Less than an hour ago I saw an article about Kylie Jenner donating money to children with cleft palates in Peru. I didn’t misjudge her, as my perspective truly is valid, but I didn’t give her room to evolve, to grow, to be something other than an idea I had about who she must be, based off of things I don’t agree with, or things that are hard to stomach when you yourself have not the same things (fortune, opportunity, etc).

I also have to take a moment to say how fitting it is that she chooses to donate proceeds from her makeup sales to children with facial disfigurement, because she herself had plastic surgery from head to toe, to feel better about her own appearance. She is holding a baby with a cleft palate in the photo accompanying this article, and I just think it’s kind of beautiful that our own inner children often guide us to search for ways to help children survive or overcome the same struggles we have had in our own lives.

I am always willing to change a perspective once it has been proven different than what I deemed it to be.

It is the same with this situation, every person involved perhaps did make many mistakes that led to the outcome. In the light of evolution due to this experience, all people involved have room to redeem themselves, to admit they contributed to this problem, to choose to evolve and love one another. In fact, it would serve them too, were “peace” the true goal of these people.

We aren’t perfect people walking perfect paths. Human error occurs whether we have time for it, or not. Personal responsibility for what is sitting in front of your face isn’t going to remove you from the horrors of an outcome you don’t like, but it will ultimately cause you to heal the wounds of the past, and to love one another a little more completely.


A Dream of Freedom for The Poor

If life is but a dream, wouldn’t everything in it be a symbol?

I feel like if you were to analyze the circumstances, people, and situations in your current reality, you could very easily pinpoint the seeds that have been planted in your psyche.

I don’t say this to depress anybody, but because the law of attraction is a real thing. People are always trying to escape their nightmares, and they are always unsuccessful.

Successful people, for example, aren’t necessarily people who have worked harder. They are people who had the idea inserted in their reality very young, that they were worth success. They are not the broken remains of poverty born people, who’s messages often go unheard in favor of less meaningful messages paid for by white skin and money.

A perfect example would be the Jenner sisters. We are so easily fooled into thinking some people are worth more than others. Opportunity isn’t the only option these women had. It’s true that one must still add to the abundance in the natural born psyche of a rich person. That part is duly noted. The part that isn’t is the entire history of people who born into wealth, who continue to thrive simply because somebody told them they had the right to.

I want the Hood to wake up, more than I want to live. I want these beautiful people who are my friends and my family to become spiritual, not because it’s my way, but because it may be the only saving grace and the way we pave a new world for our own children, destined for the same struggles we have endured.

I can speak for them for now, but they aren’t going to hear your story if you don’t speak up. And nothing will ever change. Ever. We will forever be slaves to a God who rules with a lack of integrity and a sorry excuse for a human heart.

If this is my dream, and the symbols tell me what has been planted in my head, what kind of dream am I having while awake?

A dream to change this dream.

A drug addict doesn’t become a drug addict out of weakness of mind. He becomes what the world told him he would be. He dreams the nightmare that was first shown to him before he knew he had a choice. It’s not merely a stupid decision that led him there, it’s an army designed to keep people in their place. Why would they need us to remain there? They fear us, more than we fear them.

In the event of my demise, when my heart can beat no more, I refuse to live for a principle that isn’t worth dying for.

I dream for the Hood, the poverty stricken, the ghetto dwellers, whatever you want to call us, what Martin Luther King Jr. dreamed for “Blacks”.


Freedom to thrive because they are paid living wages for their time and energy. Freedom to travel, to touch, taste, and see the world that is meant for them too. Freedom to send their children to the best schools. Freedom to live off welfare. Freedom never to have to bow before the mighty again!

And my favorite, freedom to live, rather than merely survive.



The amount of connection to be shared in this world, is worth chasing. I feel it all day, every day, everywhere I go. The themes that connect us as a whole have been predominant since before my own birth. Nothing you ever go through is something you’re going through alone.

I met so many mirrors of my own inner world yesterday, I’m literally almost still too overwhelmed to write about it. And yet, I know the feeling won’t be as strong later on, so I’ll try to convey the message I feel wanting to surface for air.

The running theme for America is Fearlessness, which first must provoke those underlying feelings of  being powerless.

As I made my way through a group at a local weekly gathering, who would call themselves “hippies” or “rebels”, in a religiously tied down state like Utah, I picked up the predominant vibration of FEAR. These people are our artists, our druggies, and our Indigo Children/Adults. They dabble in spirituality, but really they already know wholeness in and of themselves.

The world doesn’t reflect back to them their true value as Kings and Queens walking the Earth wearing human flesh and titles like “janitor”, “laboror”, or “dropout”.

Old Hippies show up wearing bell bottoms and tie dye, having paved the way for even this small gathering of people to feel safe in public. I always feel like I should bow in respect to the people who’ve been fighting the war on equality, and general respect for human life, much longer than myself. I love this crowd, and yet I had to leave once the pervasive feelings of powerlessness and fear surfaced. I could suffocate in a vibration like that, as an Empath.

The opposite vibration of being scared is feeling empowered. Who feels empowered in today’s society? The opposite type of people! Fear is a product of never having been able to have your desires met, because on a scale of 1-10, to this world as it currently stands, the seed that has been planted in your head is that your life does not matter as much as a person who has money, or fame, or a fancy title.

We believe in corruption, because unfortunately, it’s been a theme for the entirety of our lives!

I have no answers, other than to travel an individual path of spirituality, and hope the world will turn in your favor one day if you fight long enough, hard enough, and diligently enough, for what belongs to you in the first place. Leaving this behind, I’d have to say, would only be fair to those of us stuck in this vibration of feeling we must work so much harder than those born into opportunity, for so much smaller of a payoff.

It is true, we must work harder, but I promise you that it is never in vain. If we don’t see the rewards of this battle being fought, our children might, or their children might …

We can pull the rug out from beneath the feet of the rich, entitled, and superior, because the ground beneath their feet really is as unstable as it appears to be. While we continue to solidify the ground beneath our own.

Who will be left standing in the end?

I think the stronger Army will always win, though it really may take lifetime after lifetime of being here dressed as warriors. I can see a new world already peeking out from behind the clouds of today’s gloomy forecast.

The old foundation is crumbling beneath our feet, and that is an epic thing to make happen in our lifetime.


Seeing Destiny

One story that sticks out in my mind more than most is the story about a little girl here in Utah, who was kidnapped and ultimately found murdered no more than one hundred and fifty feet from her own home.

It was the summer of 2006. Five year old Destiny Norton had gotten into an argument with her parents, and “run away”, barefoot and wearing an over sized t-shirt. Nobody expected that a tantrum would turn into a missing child. People scoured the neighborhoods for days, with no luck.

My own family just happened to pass by the home of the missing little girl after watching the Pioneer Day Parade (a Utah religious based celebration), one of us stopped to ask for any updates on the case. The woman sitting on the porch was raw with pain. I felt so bad for her. I was very uncomfortable talking about the missing little girl. I felt it was sort of disrespectful to invade what little privacy the family had left at the time. I knew our concern couldn’t even compare to hers. People in Utah become like family through hard times, like those involving missing children .

For a week I had visions of a little girl running around the tree in the small yard area of our apartment complex, stopping to peek out from behind the tree every now and then. I didn’t ask who she was, because I was afraid of the answer. Or of thinking it was her if it wasn’t. Or, realizing once the case was solved, the child was alive, and that would mean I was crazy. A raving fucking lunatic. Also, we lived right next to a mortuary, where this kind of activity actually really is more frequent, so I didn’t jump to any conclusions about the identity of the ghost girl.

The little girl in my visions taunted with her giggles and her repeated phrase, “I can’t believe they haven’t found me! I’m RIGHT HERE!” She thought it mighty amusing that her mother hadn’t located her yet, as if she was merely playing a child’s game of hide n’ seek and her hiding place should have been obvious.

On July 25th, I instructed my then boyfriend to turn on the television. I was fully expecting to see live coverage of BREAKING NEWS: The body of Destiny Norton has been found. When it wasn’t I quietly panicked again, assuming the worst about my mental state. And yet, I was also relieved that my worst fears, the worst possible outcome to the case, apparently was not true. Who wants to see that become a real thing?

Four hours later, we searched the local TV News stations again, sure enough there was the headline I’d been so afraid of seeing: THE BODY OF FIVE YEAR OLD DESTINY NORTON HAS BEEN FOUND.

My visions don’t always make sense right away, nor do they always without a shadow of a doubt, come true. That is the hardest part of all of this. I question all of it until I’m given reason to believe in it, to trust myself once more. Enough of what I’ve seen has come to fruition though, for me to pursue my path of unique spirituality. I’ve thrived only when I’ve remembered the true power I hold in my hands, as a psychic.

My guides will push readings through me, or well meant advice, when it’s necessary. I don’t question this anymore, but I fear being judged by the people receiving the messages. Once again, it’s a path worth walking no matter what comes my way.

In the closure of the death of a child, the only condolences I can offer is that she is alive and well in another place.

However, as a mother myself, that is not much of a comfort at all. I was changed by the explosive real life drama that followed the case of this sweet, innocent, five year old child. It is truly something nobody should ever have to go through. As I write this, I realize my heart still aches for this poor family who cherished this little girl so much their lives were forever torn apart by the horrific ending of her life as Destiny Norton.



Sometimes I feel like I’m standing in front of a crowded room, screaming, and nobody looks up. They can’t hear me. They aren’t trying to ignore me. They literally can not receive a message that is beyond their comprehension. And who am I, someone below them on the social ladder of success in society (the bottom rung, in fact) to bare such wisdom to them?

There have been many who came before me, baring such explosive new ideas about the world in which some of us live. Many of these spiritual teachers were never labeled as such, nor will anyone ever know their names.

I fear living a mediocre life, only because that isn’t my soul’s natural wave length. I wish I could explain to you how big my soul really is. WHO she really is. It’s like being Royalty who has mistakenly been switched with a poverty born life and can’t escape. I have never forgotten my pre-existing lives, or who I am on the other side.

Someone once compared me to Cleopatra, which seems ridiculous to the human ego. Especially from the outside in, baring witness to a life like mine. I however, know the story a lot differently. I know a soul like mine would never have chosen an easy mission. I know I chose this life before my birth, and specifically designed it for the evolution of my soul, so that when the Awakening occurred (also pre-destined) I would inherently know how important this tiny, fragile, dimmed down, human life of mine would be.

I guess I used to think that that meant fame, or recognition would ultimately follow, and my writing, my stories would attract the audience it too was designed for.

I see life a lot differently than I ever did before. I know now that no matter how small my  existence looks to others, no matter how much dirt is kicked in my face, I’m a warrior designed by God himself. My job isn’t to be in a spotlight (at least not right now), it is to hold the hands of every lost soul who enters my line of view, and gently awaken them, until they too recognize the true greatness of who they are.

I am a reminder that souls are bigger than a shallow human shell. That just because somebody looks, talks, and acts differently than you are used to, doesn’t mean a bad thing. In fact, often, it means the opposite. It means a highly evolved being you’ve been told is “challenged”, “crippled”, etc. is actually an Angel doing God’s work, never asking for anything in return, other than to be of service where they are needed most.

There are amazing people hidden in human shells, easily discarded by society, and what is important in the grand scheme of things. They are lost in ideas about who they are, how much value their lives have compared to others, and general bullshit about their mental abilities, and this is a fucking tragedy.

Everybody deserves a chance to be seen as smart, beautiful, and worthwhile. We all have a song to sing, and yet in the cages built for us we are asked to stay for the remainder of our lives. Cages that look like labels, financial status, and popularity contests.

Every child in Africa  (for example) secretly dreams dreams he dares not discuss, for they are so grandiose people would call him insane to even think he was deserving of such a good life.

My position in life isn’t to make keeping the status quo the same, easy for anyone. That will never be my calling. I was built for this war, and this war I will battle alone if I have to, until the bitter end. Shed blood, cry tears, lose everything! I will never shut up. I will not be silent in the face of the onslaught of hatred aimed at me, or the ones I love.

Maybe the world has it completely fucked up.

Maybe the small victory of knowing how much I matter, how much you matter, is enough. Maybe everything else is bullshit.

I ask one question of everybody who reads (you do read, I see this in my blog stats), why did you take on this particular life? And what good can come from it, if you climbed out of the box with your name written on it, in BOLD black ink? Who could you be, and what are you capable of doing if you stopped following everybody else into the bleak abyss of normalcy? Until you die a normal death, and are buried a normal man, in a normal suit, wearing a tied somebody else picked out for you?

If you weren’t afraid to say “fuck it, let’s see where this goes”, where might the previously normal path you were on, lead you?

I for one, think it’s the only real chance we have at change. I see life two ways, normal and lacking power to change ANYTHING. And abnormal, building new freeways (spiritually) for others to zip along on one day.

Which will it be?

For someone like me, there isn’t a choice anymore. I couldn’t survive another thirty years as a pawn in a game I never asked to play, forever bowing at the feet of the King.

That is no life.

Thanks for reading. I believe in your greatness, because I know my own soul as being worthy of taking the place of the Queen. Which basically begs the question, who are you really?



You literally can not be standing here breathing without experiencing Oneness. Oneness is running through your veins. We started out as One, and now we are simply multiplied, severed only by our own unique perspectives. We are many ones now, but still One. A total, a sum. A beginning, and an ending too.

As my Awakening continues I see more and more of myself in others all the time. I realize again and again we are never so different that we can’t find common ground, even if we can’t maintain a loving relationship of any kind. People now seem more transparent and perhaps even a little more made up than they used to, to me. It’s like watching a cast of professional actors mill about onstage all day long, so aware of what their next line is that they mumble them without even having to think about what they are saying.

My own life unfolds as if it is a play I have written myself. The scenes may not be exactly as I thought they would be, but it is still my cast of characters and my poetry they are reciting beneath the dim stage lights.

I find Oneness in simple, everyday life, and people. I don’t feel the need to push my energetic boundaries so far into the unknown that I am floating, rather than living. I’m already there in a way, and what if there is no anchor to pull me back down?

I am One because I am human, because I am a mother, a daughter, a sister, a neighbor. I am one with everybody who has ever experienced pain, happiness, given birth, chased a filthy toddler who didn’t want his diaper changed. I’m one when I feel at my most alone, because I know out there on that same day, at that same exact time of day, are millions of others feeling exactly the same way I do.

I’m one with every little girl who was molested, instead of protected. I’m one with every woman who bares the scars of rape. I’m one with every person who is tired of having their sensitivity insulted by things that make no sense to them on a soul level. I’m one with every warrior here who has decided to stand up and fight for a better world for all.

I’m one with the clouds and the people I love who live in Heaven, because I was born of the Earth. The Earth being one with the sky, the Gods, and the souls of all of the other planets. Oneness isn’t something you chase, it is something you ARE.

Spirituality and spiritual people mean well, but they are following (or trying to) in the footsteps of spiritual teachers who weren’t completely honest about how they reached the state of enlightenment they were so infamous for obtaining.

A mountain biker doesn’t fly off a cliff without first understanding his own accountability for his actions, anymore than a mother gives birth completely unprepared to meet the needs of other individuals before her own. It’s called forethought, because it can save lives. We, as spiritual leaders need to be accountable for the possible outcome of our lack of integrity in matters of the heart, because one person killing himself is more than enough.

We don’t bare the burden unless we caused the suffering. Be mindful of the truths you share as you lead. This is real life, these are real people, and death isn’t the worst option to many of them.

Lead with Authenticity and Integrity, lest the burden become yours to bare.


At Ease, Soldier

I’m remembering a past life I actually forgot to write about when I wrote about my past life memories a couple of weeks ago. This life was lived out as a soldier.

I feel like this life was lived in Germany, possibly during the time of Hitler’s reign, or a little before or after. I wasn’t given those details. I was actually told about the past life in reference to my friendship with someone who is a friend in this life as well. It was an answer to the bond I feel between us, of love and unconditional immunity in this life. The funny thing is we don’t hang out or talk in person in the third dimensional reality (though we have), but I feel very connected to her. I believe she’s been one of my main guides in the dimension where human souls dwell when they are evolved enough to be leisurely energy in other realms. The fifth dimension.

I was a white man,  fair skinned and blonde. I was probably handsome, in my early thirties, and married with a child at home. This friend was a woman who was basically a sex slave, and held captive in terrible conditions. I was under strict surveillance. Anything I did that wasn’t in alignment with the bosses orders (Nazi orders, perhaps), could have meant brutal torture or instant death for myself and my family.

I forged a deep and sincere bond with this woman, as she helped heal me in ways that I’d never knew possible. I suppose a part of me was in love with her, but I never crossed any boundaries a married man and father, shouldn’t cross.

I wasn’t a part of the horrible things that went on in the building, though I sensed they were atrocious on many levels. I felt as if my hands were tied, if I wanted my life and my wife and child’s lives to be kept alive. I do recall knowing about the sex and the abortions that were performed on women without anything to numb the pain, if they became pregnant. This was my breaking point.

I took this friend, who was a severely abused woman in that prison camp of sorts, aside. I told her I was going to allow her to run, no matter what that meant for me. She had become my main love, and I wasn’t going to continue to dedicate my life to something I had never intended on being a part of. She thanked me, and left. It broke my heart to see her go, to know she had been so hurt and I hadn’t been able to protect her.

She went on to live a fulfilling life, despite all of that. I’m not sure what became of my life as a soldier, but in this life she’s thanked me by being the same kind of friend I was to her in that lifetime: Unconditional and therapeutic.


The Power of Play

I wonder how long this feeling will last? Forever would be too short. I suck the nectar out of life, every drop attempting to quench the unquenchable. My life is going forward, never backwards.

I spent two glorious, moody weather filled, days in the desert. Green River is a small town located 182.3 miles south of my home town. That’s like a three hour drive, and beauty jumps out from the land at every turn along the way.

Who knew this girl was a traveler and a camper? A few years ago I was nowhere near being as found as I feel I am today. This person changes so much over the course of time, she often becomes unrecognizable to me.

The people in Green River are small town folk surrounded by picturesque views. They are kind and more than willing to share their treasure with anybody driving through. Mountain bikes hang on racks on the back of trucks, while people stop in the local shack like bar for a drink on a boys weekend getaway.

I love being surrounded by the land, and by people who are authentically alive. I feel like there is a certain type of person who is drawn to the great outdoors and athletic pursuits. I’ve never been one to play sports, but I’ve grown to love watching them. My boys are mountain bikers in the making, especially my oldest son.

Most athletes have an Orange Aura. They aren’t the kind to talk about their feelings, or really act as if they are spiritual, because they are physical people. They find their spirituality in riding, hiking, shooting guns in the desert.

I was pretty much ready to crack before we left for our trip. It was like asking me to clean one more dish, or fold one more piece of laundry, was going to push me over the edge. Real life is anything but glamorous! I couldn’t wait to get on the road, to see the earth moving as we drove past, to snap pictures of all the things that nature makes that touch my heart, and leaves me in awe of this great magnitude of beauty in a world untainted by popularity contests.

Unlike people, the land is filled with nothing but love. I can feel it’s love for me. It’s like babies and animals, if they aren’t being abused. These things have no judgement of who you are, what you do for a living, and what you feel on the inside. I didn’t pick up any “this is sacred” land vibes, nor did any none living entities find their way to my light. What I did feel is grace and dignity in mountains and desert grown flowers and cactus.

I shot a 9mm handgun for the first time, one bullet right after the other. I think I was channeling my Inner Badass. I love holding something so powerful it can kill you, in my hands, and trusting that whatever happens is for the best. I can’t claim to be any great shot yet, my name is not Dead Shot, but I wasn’t going to let the opportunity to hold a real weapon in my hands slip by.

If you slow down the moment, you can feel the heaviness of the gun in your hands. It’s heavier than you think. And you can sense yourself moving in slow motion, but it’s a new experience, so everything seems to be going so fast. As you squeeze the trigger, the sheer velocity of the weapon is unleashed. The earmuffs muffle the sound, but your heart is directly aligned with each bullet. The way that bullet feels whizzing out of the barrel is sort of indescribable.

I suppose the real feeling I’m trying to describe, is fearlessness.

I’m a Violet, Indigo, Crystal Aura, so I spend a lot of time thinking, analyzing, daydreaming, and writing about my innermost thoughts. I love coming into alignment temporarily with others who are nothing like me. I used to fear it, as someone like me (Anxious Attachment Style) is always searching for deep and authentic connection, but that contrast is much needed. I guess that’s why they say “opposites attract”.

The power of play is underrated. I play all day, every chance I get, even if it’s at home cleaning. Life isn’t waiting for you to start living it, it is passing you by while you pretend to live it. 

In contrast, coming from the well of deep inner wisdom that is mine as an ancient violet/Indigo/Crystal aura, I was using a fake orange vibration to write the first part of this blog entry: When I hold a gun in my hands, I wonder how J. pulled the trigger. I wonder what his last thoughts were, and if he would always remember me as a friend. I wonder how he left it all behind, his girls, the future, what could be … Any chance of finding that which would bring him joy, and give his life the meaning he craved.

I think the greatest glory of all time will be ending up old, wrinkled, and full of stories about my normal, everyday, adventures.

My advice to suicidal people, having spent a lot of time there, isn’t just to play, but to play in new ways, or ways that YOU don’t normally play. Orange aura’s could benefit from facing themselves spiritually, rather than ONLY chasing themselves via extreme living. The same way I benefit from my willingness to connect to aura’s that challenge me to get out of my comfort zone.

Never underestimate the power of jumping out of your comfort zone, by playing with what is right in front of you. Even if it scares the shit out of you.


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