The Other Side to the Nomad

To my fellow travelers, I see you.
To my fellow adventurers, I feel you.
To every inner child who just wants to play, I love you.

To my fellow nomads, I feel your pain and I know your joy. I know your relentless quest for freedom and the primal free-falling, unsettled feeling it is often accompanied by.

And maybe for the first time, I have mustered up the courage to stare the nomad straight in the eyes. And I’m here to share with you what she has to say.

But before I do… what even is a nomad? 

Well, surely early humans lived this way. It’s how we naturally evolved. There are still ethnic groups around the world who live this old ancestral way. Many animals are nomadic as well. It’s pretty much nature.

But the majority of modern humanity is different. We’ve built something called civilization that moves parallel to nature (sometimes very much against it): structures, conditions, rules. Within that, each human has a function, a sense of belonging, a container. A foundation that is reliable and generally unmoving. Reflective of that is a physical home, and a role within the greater community.

By nomad, I’m referring to the traveler type. And it’s a wide spectrum. There are fancy and not-so-fancy digital nomads, often staying in one place for long stretches while working on their projects. There are nomads like me who are not even that digital.

There are travelers on months-long holidays, knowing there is an end point and that they will return back home to the old script (or have come to realize there is no going back to it). There are those who have given up everything, carrying both grief and hope, and are learning to move with the unknown. There are those escaping war, whether in their home countries or within their own lives. There are those who used to travel constantly and are now more settled, where travel has become a formative chapter rather than a current lived experience. There are “expats” who moved somewhere for quality of life, cost, or because they just vibed with it.

It is not black and white.

But to me, no matter the type, it’s like a karmic disposition. If it’s in your code, at some point, either for a little or a long time, this will play out. Life and home will be transient. You will leave things behind, gain things along the way, leave things behind, gain new things, uproot, settle, think, this is it… but never mind, it’s not (or not right now), uproot again, settle once more, and so on…

Many nomads I’ve met along the way have said the same thing: It didn’t feel like a choice. It didn’t feel like I woke up one day and wanted to live this way. I feel the same. For me personally, it’s just how life has unfolded so far. Step by step, without any clear vision or decision of a certain lifestyle…

If you really stare long and hard enough into your life… your behavior, your thoughts, your joy and pain, your endless loops… things will start to rise to the surface. You can run away, try to solve, wiggle around, shake it off, avoid, recalculate, edit, scratch the itch, rewrite the story… or you can just keep looking and looking and looking… until you finally see.

When I meet people, especially those who follow the normal script of life, and they ask me simple questions like “Where do you live?”, “Where are you from?”, “What do you do (for work)?”, I know it isn’t going to be a short conversation… unless somehow I manage to duck out of it. I have absolutely no simple answers for them. I don’t even have a simple answer for myself. If I start to answer these questions, they will almost always be met with more follow-up questions. People often react with awe, disbelief, confusion, the need to process, and very commonly, some sort of hyper-charged projected admiration.

If they say, “Wow. How amazing…” I usually respond with, “Yeah… I don’t recommend it,” and I chuckle. Because I’m not kidding… I don’t actually recommend it.

But that’s not to dismiss the abundance of beauty and gifts that come with this path.

We are masters of adaptation, changing circumstances, navigating the unknown. We understand people, the way the world works. We’ve seen it from so many angles. We can have deep talks with absolute strangers from all walks of life and be invited into their home for a meal and to meet their family soon after. We have an ability to take the temperature of the group-mind psychology of an entire people and understand immediately how to navigate their cultural terrain. We learn to ask strangers for help, but also can usually discern a scam pretty well. We know how to drive on both the left and the right side of the road. We know how to say hello, thank you, and I love you in dozens of languages. We can navigate any train system, bus system, or ferry system no matter the region. We have friends scattered all over this planet. We know how to turn sweatshirts into comfy pillows. We know how to fall asleep in the oddest locations, sometimes in public. We’re remarkably resourceful. We’re fluent in both hello and goodbye. Life is real. Life is transient. Everything is moving.

So many ordinary moments become alive. So many colors, smells, horns honking, tranquil peace… sometimes a totally wrecked nervous system, sometimes a lot of energy, sometimes exhaustion. We’ve stayed in the most luxurious hotels and slept on mats on the beach. We know how vast this world is, and at the same time how small it really is. And we have the absolute best stories.

But that light also casts a shadow.

The hidden costs of “freedom”: Accepting admiration for something that often feels untethered and unsettled. No real sense of home or belonging. Being perpetually in transition. Exhaustion from constant uprooting. Exhaustion from resettling. Existential questioning. Both a familiarity with and discomfort with loneliness. Free-falling. Always being a guest, never fully inhabiting. The ability to carry everything you own, yet somehow feel like you’re carrying too much. Time limits. Visas. Money. Decision fatigue. Where next? For how long? Missing weddings and funerals without being able to explain why to those who don’t understand the limitations of this lifestyle. Having many homes, but none at all.

I’ve been called courageous a lot for this. And maybe I am in some ways. But a part of me rejects it because deep down I know that at least part of this adventurous, yet uncertain life is a program that’s been running me.

Recently I’ve had to ask myself, am I really that free? Or am I running from my own limitations?
Maybe it’s both. But in the name of freedom, I must separate the wheat from the chaff.

If light casts a shadow, then what is the obstruction of this so-called freedom? I have the “courage” to live this way, but do I have the courage to really look at why?

Freedom was always my strongest current. Even as a small child. I wanted to understand the reality (seen and especially unseen) that we’re a part of. I wanted to be free in my experience and perceptions. I wanted to make art, play in my room, play outside. I would close my eyes and meditate into outer space until I reached the limits of my own comprehension.

I was well looked after by my family. Nothing is ever perfect, but at baseline, I was loved and nourished.

As I got a little bit older and entered the school machine, I was met with a profound disappointment and the unfortunate realization that adults no longer ask questions, they just provide answers to questions they don’t even know. Not only that, the outside world wanted me to sit at a desk for hours at a time, not make art (or only for an hour a week), not play (or only for 15 minutes twice a day at recess), go home and do more sitting and more thinking and more working.

You are seen and validated for your ability to do things a machine could do, and how well you perform them. Only productivity. No more exploring. Just being obedient.

That pained me in ways I couldn’t even process. I protected myself the best I could. I zoned out, didn’t listen. I rebelled and I refused to the best of my ability, but it came with a cost… and it cost a lot. A lack of a container. The beginning of the story titled, I Don’t Belong. A story I’ve unconsciously worn as both pride and existential terror.

But once you start to see a story as a story, you don’t take it as seriously. When you wake up from a dream and realize it was a dream, you start to relax. It slowly sinks in… a tiger isn’t chasing you anymore. You’re in bed on a random Tuesday and there are birds chirping outside.

The irony is, in my teens and early 20s, I dreamed of becoming a traveler, but I didn’t quite have the “courage” or the tools to make my life so. But slowly, and without any clear decision or plan, my life unfolded into that, step by step.

I’ve been nomadic to varying degrees since 2017. There have been times when I’d be somewhere for a year, give or take, but I always knew it was temporary. There was a mission to complete, and I knew I’d move on. Not always necessarily because I wanted to… but somehow, either circumstantially or out of necessity. Recently, in the last two years, I’ve become more severely nomadic, not just within a continent, but across several… and not just within a yearly period, but often in spans of several weeks to months at a time.

Let’s draw it back to the endless search for a container.

Somewhere in my mid to late 20s, something magical happened. After years of feeling like I don’t belong, or attempting to belong somewhere and failing (or it not working out how I expected), I finally found a container that fit. Birth. I became a doula.

It wasn’t something I chased or strategically built. In fact, I had zero ambition about it. I didn’t have to lift a finger; it was coming for me. And for the first time, I wasn’t trying to squeeze myself into someone else’s shape. It asked for exactly what came naturally to me: presence, intuition, information, advocacy, reverence for mystery, an open heart, novelty, and present-moment navigation of life’s unfolding.

Not only that, I was being paid well… for being me and doing something that I loved. I loved women. I loved birth. I loved being in service to something so raw and real. I loved the adventure of standing at the edge of life and physical existence. I loved that I could finally say, if only for a while, I belong here.

It felt triumphant. Not because I had found success in the material sense, but because I had found a place to shine, to be of service, and to do something I love while being myself. And I no longer felt invisible. The world finally saw me being me.

But the currents of my life continued to change, and eventually I realized something: I wanted things for myself. I wanted to live my own life. I couldn’t live entirely for others. I couldn’t organize my life around everyone else’s seasons while limiting my own freedom of movement. I didn’t want to be tethered to a city anymore. I couldn’t be endlessly on call to life while never leaving room for my own. I still attend births, just not all the time. I still deeply love birth, and I still find it genuinely exciting. But I can no longer ask it to be my identity, my stability, my belonging, my reason for being here.

Don’t get me wrong, objectively my life is good. I am very fortunate. I am deeply grateful for the freedom that has been gifted to me by circumstance, and the freedom I have cultivated from within. But I am also limited. A dog needs space to play, but it also needs a fence so it doesn’t get lost.

Without containment, there is a tendency to search for it outwardly. In relationships, in future outcomes, in achievement, in meaning, in the idea that something will eventually arrive and make life feel whole and held.

But these things are not designed to do that. They cannot carry that weight.

At some point, the search itself becomes the ongoing pattern. Running toward what might complete the story, waiting for what might resolve it.

But life is not asking to be resolved. It is asking to be lived. To participate fully, without postponing presence for a future that never quite arrives. This is where things truly stagnate when we forget, when we fail to pay attention.

Remembering feels less like a choice, and more like something I keep forgetting and returning to.

As a child, it was a battle. A war between being myself (and potentially invisible) and being a machine (and validated). Of course I wanted the validation, but never at the expense of being myself. I internalized the grief of feeling like I had to choose at all. I was forced to participate in systems that weren't right for me. I was forced to meet other people's deadlines and requirements. I battled well, and I protected myself as best I could. But I'm no longer a child, and I don't need to keep fighting an imaginary war against something that isn’t here anymore.

For so long, I've refused. It's protected me and helped me. It helped me as a child to refuse to listen to what the world was asking me to become. To betray my own heart for some sort of societal sense of security and conformity was a hard-no. I wouldn't do it. But when does refusal become an identity? When does it cease to protect and begin to limit, even paralyze?

I've had to reach a sort of stillness. Not because I found peace, but because I had begun to feel the pressure of it all. Reaching. Resisting. Refusing. Waiting. The same circles, over and over again. At some point, the machine starts to crack. I pretty much gave up trying to pretend I wasn’t exhausted from it all. I had to stop and ask myself, what exactly am I still protecting?

It’s come with a lot of tears and feeling, but also a determined inquiry underneath it.

Because the nomads, the travelers, the artists, the healers, all children… we just want to play. We want to explore. We have so much to give, but we don’t have to keep refusing everything. We can create something. We can participate. We can actually just be.

Belong. Long to be. To just be. 

To stop trying to be someone, to achieve something, to make something fit. To stop trying to be the friend, good-listener, wife, husband, mother, homeowner, enlightened master, athlete, crypto master app developer bro, free person, spiritual person, sold-out master healer coach, author, desirable person, likable person, greatest artist known to man. 

Imagine the relief of not needing to be anyone anymore. Not needing to earn your value from something outside yourself. Imagine the pressure removed. How much more space would you have to create? To play. To be of service. To smile at strangers. To feel your own breath.

I've noticed a lot of nomads are very picky when it comes to everything: relationships, jobs, home, values. And that's beautiful. They won't settle. Things must feel deeply meaningful and aligned.

But all light casts a shadow when we stand in between.

What happens when the refusal to settle hardens into an identity? Waiting for some future to come along and save it. To finally make it choose. To finally make it willing. To settle it once and for all.

To finally create the boundaries their inner child has so desperately longed to play within.

So when I've said things like, "I don't recommend it," or, "I didn't really choose this, it's just how life unfolded," what I've really been saying is: I haven't found a container I can fully inhabit yet.

And if you look into my eyes underneath those comments, there has always been unease.

Because the search is relentless. Like chasing a rainbow, hoping something out there will finally stabilize what feels unsettled within.

Perhaps it's time to stop waiting for the outside world to do what it was never designed to do.

Not because love, home, family, meaningful work, purpose, and belonging aren't important. They absolutely are.

This is not saying I don't want those things, or that I'm now so hyper-independent that I don't need anything or anyone. I'm just no longer expecting them to redeem me. I don't need to wait for them to create the container for me, because they were never truly designed for that.

I absolutely invite love, union, life, presence, adventure, vision, projects, success, total awareness into my life, but not as redemption. I invite it in to play. To dance. To grow. 

I know how to play. I know adventure and spontaneity well, but without a container, I can become a lost dog.

Woof. Woof.

For a long time I've been at war. I thought stability meant betraying my own heart. I thought needing to consistently earn money meant slavery. I thought committing to a career meant replacing the space for love and union. I thought standing on my own two feet meant betraying my own femininity. Everything began to feel like a compromise, as though saying yes to one part of life required abandoning another.

But maybe I can build something to play within.

Maybe I don't have to squeeze myself into something already built.

Look. I'm not much of an engineer, but I am a visionary. I am an explorer. The blueprint is the heart, here and now.

I have zero clue how to do this or what it should look like. I don't know how I'm going to pull it off, or if I even will. I don't even know exactly what this asks of me. But I'm willing. Because I'm no longer waiting. 

I honestly don't know much of anything. All I know is that I am willing.

...And what about you?

Can you look into the mirror of your life, into your own eyes, and see the child looking right back at you...

The Truth is a Mountain

The only reason I’m writing this now, is because, in a way, it’s already been written. And now the words are jumping off the walls of my mind like wild children wanting attention. So in honor of truth, I will write the words that wish to be spoken to the best of my ability.

Once something is understood, comprehended, not just in the mind, but in the emotions, in the deepest layers of the self, it has to be creatively expressed somehow. It’s as if that creativity and expression anchors the truth deeper within the person to then be embodied. Consider whatever I’m about to write to be part of that process. 

Here I am, sitting on the porch of my apartment I’m renting in the pristine, and still-beauty of the Himalayan mountains. Behind me is a fog, covering the snow-capped mountain peaks. Even with the fog there, I know what beauty lies beyond, because I’ve seen it, and I have yet to see more. Every time I look up, I see at least 5 eagles circling the sky. It’s as if their sharp and elevated vision is encouraging my mind to zoom out. Encouraging my inner vision to see more. For my perceptions to encompass more and more truth.

Ever since I arrived in India, the number 13 has been following me everywhere. On my phone, in signs, in conversation, in dream time. I cannot escape it. And this number is not a number that I have ever felt has followed me anytime before this. As many people may know, on an esoteric level, 13 represents Death. And what a beautiful thing death is. And I’m not talking about the physical form withering and dying, though that can be beautiful too, I am talking about the death of everything you think you are and think that you know. To slowly begin chiseling away at the muddy rock, until you find the gold hidden within.

For a long time I’ve been approaching my spiritual work from the angle of needing to unhook myself from the lies. To unhook myself from the ego and liberate the essence. All of this is absolutely correct, but this mind I possess thought it knew the path to this. The mind did help me here and there, but the mind seemed to be the one to take the leadership role of determining what needed to be worked on and when that process was finished. But that’s absurd. The mind’s only job in the deeper processes of birth and death (whether spiritual or physical) is to sit down, be silent, and enjoy a good cup of tea. The mind works really hard, in fact it overworks. It takes on other jobs that it’s not meant to. Let the mind rest! Let the mind have a nice massage and vacation. Let the heart and higher faculties do their job. Easier said than done, I have a long way to go. 

In the recent months, when a test would come my way, my conscious mind handled it really well. Passed the test on paper in every which way. Turned the other cheek, held my tongue, let the other person believe what they will, even apologize for the other person’s delusions, when the moment called for it, to keep the peace, as there’s never anything to win or gain. The conscious mind understood my own mistakes and perhaps the illusions ruling over the other, and understood that everyone is doing their best. Nobody ever really wants to hurt anyone, but many people are hurt, and therefore they hurt others. Mind-level empathy. Most people can grasp this.

But my subconscious…. that’s another story. My subconscious was totally identified with what had occurred. Mulling over why I had been attacked. Judging the other person. Feeling like I’m a victim, especially because I’m always so nice! Haha. My subconscious was lacking comprehension. How I knew this was because on the conscious level, I passed everything, perfect grades, made logic and reason out of absurd situations, understood the other person even in their delusions. Walked away without a fight or gain. However, the occurrences would still pass my mind from time to time, and when they did, I would feel a sort of emotional pain or cringe. That’s how I knew there was still more work to do, but in the deeper sub-layers of the consciousness. 

So I’d take it to meditation. Meditate on the occurrence. But nothing really would happen. I would end up meditating on other things, or letting meditation lead the way, which didn’t seem to want to focus on those particular occurrences. What ended up happening was I just spoke less and less about it, and time appeared to pass, so the distance between that occurrence seemed to grow further away from the conscious mind. But all that’s really happening is that it’s nestling deeper into the sub-layers and going into hiding. There’s no liberation there. I knew that time passing wasn’t the solution to this problem, but I also felt a bit lost in how to solve it.

After some time in India by myself, I’ve met up with a few friends who are also on their own path of self-realization. One of these particular friends, who is really a brother to me, is, let’s say, far more developed in his perception of Truth. He’s sharpened his vision like an eagle, and he helps me to sharpen mine. He’s been at it longer than me. It’s as if I’m at the gym, beginning to take on the heavier weights, and this dude is ripped, and as I’m getting stronger, slowly, I’m still learning to gain strength. But he’s also kind of like a coach or gym buddy who’s mere presence and experience acts as leverage to hone in on the inner Will to push myself farther than the day before. 

We are so full of ignorance and duality. We are so full of desires and fears. All of these act as clouds, as a fog. But behind that fog is a beautiful mountain. That is the truth. Seeing truth is a muscle we have to strengthen. And even if we gain strength, start to get ripped, at any point we can lose motivation, and just stop going to the gym. Just stop working that muscle. Get hypnotized back in to the world of dreams. Of desires and fears. It’s so, so temping. True, that if one does return to the gym after having let their practice go, there’s some muscle memory there and you may be able to gain it back faster. But seeing reality for what it truly is, is no lazy feat. We have to keep working the muscle. Keep pushing ourselves further and further and never give up. Keeping motivation high no matter what. I basically just started with the heavier weights, but I am by no means, ripped at all. But my friend gives me a lot of motivation, and it’s my job to keep going, even after I adventure onwards.

Something that I’ve realized recently is that, rather than letting the mind focus on what’s “right” and “wrong”; what’s “fixed” and “unsolved”; what “needs to be worked on”; it just needs to let the inner eyes see what is true. It’s as easy as seeing the mountain, as the mountain is just there. There’s nothing I need to do to make it be there. It’s just that the fog of the mind needs to get out the way. What I was doing before was letting the mind focus so intensely on my own egos, my own karma, my own problems, how I manifested particular uncomfortable situations, and in doing so, I created a distance between myself and the truth. In a way, I let the mind identify with the ego saying “my ego”, as if it’s something to clench on to, something true in my identity. But there’s nothing inherently true about it. In fact, it’s made of lies. What I really needed, and what’s coming to me now, thanks to the encouragement of my friend, is that I just need to shift gears, focus on what Truth really is. Seek truth. Just rub my eyes a few times and clear away the fog. Be curious. Have fun. Truth is a joy. Why is everyone so serious? So dry? It makes me want to go around the world tickling every person with a resting bitch face. And with the light of truth, the unhooking from the lies becomes so much easier. So much quicker. Simpler. The comprehension just dawns on you, like the light of the sun shining as effortless as its own sunrise. 

My friend recently read aloud a passage by Osho. I kept my eyes closed and listened like a child listening to a fairy tale. Totally receptive. The passage contained so much mind-obliterating truth that to even trying to retell it would be absurd. But there was one point in the passage where Osho speaks of how he gave some of his students a mala with his photograph on it and told the students to meditate on the photo. That the photo holds a key. 

Had I been listening only with the mind active, I would have been confused by this… meditate on a photo of a teacher? Well that seems egoic of the teacher to do. A key to what? Tell me, tell me! I wonder what I’ll see if I look into Osho’s eyes in the photo…

The good thing was, I wasn’t listening with an active mind, but a passive one.

That night, the essence of what Osho contains inside visited me in a very vivid dream. And my mind still doesn’t understand the dream, which is so much fun! Because my heart completely feels it, yet I have no way of describing it, or even thinking of it, and no way on earth could ever explain it. But I feel it. It makes me smile. It makes me laugh. It feels liberating because I can touch the truth behind it, like a birthday present I’m slowly unwrapping.

I’m sitting by a river, which seems to be the Ganga, but not necessarily. It’s day time and beautiful. There’s some people near by but I don’t really know them. Suddenly, I see a coffin floating on the river headed down stream toward me. It washes up on shore. And immediately I open it. It is Osho… but with his guts removed. His insides are basically hanging out, yet on his face he is blissful and smiling. He is both alive and dead… yet neither alive and neither dead. I cannot describe it better than that. But I can feel that bliss. Somehow, I know he had done this to himself, almost like a prank on the world. A little joke that only he and a few others would understand. My mind doesn’t get it, but my heart totally does. And I can’t help but laugh and smile with him. The people in the distance come closer and I realize they’re followers or admirers of Osho. They are disgusted at the site of wretched death! They are freaking out and frantically discussing what to do with their beloved teacher’s body. They must honor the body! Make a ceremony! Everything must be done correctly, and seriously too! But there’s this moment with me and this great teacher, that’s kind of like, a wink from him, as if to say, I knew you’d pick up on the joke.

I still don’t fully understand in the mind what it means, but when I woke up, the story of meditating on the mala with his photograph was absolutely hilarious. I couldn’t stop laughing. It was like his photo was meaningless. There’s no real meaning in his form. What needs to be perceived is emptiness. And in a way, I still can’t stop laughing about this and I still can’t fully describe why. My friend here has also helped me to begin to grasp the concept of silence behind sound, and the emptiness behind form. I’ve always been looking AT things. At concepts. At beliefs. At ideas. At people. But I’ve never really looked into them… deeper into them, to extract the truth and let go of the form. In the dream, a gutted dead body, especially from someone you admire, is disgusting and horrifying… but it’s not real. It’s not who he is. He is not the form. In fact, nothing is. This is to see beyond duality. Beyond the endless loop of good and evil, right and wrong, and just see the truth of reality. I’m just at the beginning. The fingers of my heart have simply brushed up against all this. I’m gaining strength, but it’s through the joy of it that motivates me to keep going. To keep pushing further. It’s the joy. It’s the blissful, clever smile on Osho’s face. And it’s the laughter that erupts in me that makes me want to know this much, much deeper. 

Recently, my friend and I were at a bus station in India waiting to catch a long, overnight bus. It was definitely one of the most hectic places I’ve ever been. The two of us, wearing loads of colorful clothing and looking pretty damn European, definitely stuck out. I guess some of the people there had never seen anyone from anywhere else. So we were getting a lot of stares and funny interactions. Loads of people wanting to take pictures with us and talk to us. At one point, there was an older man and his son or grandson, who seemed to be about three years old. He was so cute, but the poor boy was being dragged by his father to us. He didn’t want to be there. His father was forcing him onto our laps to take pictures incessantly. He was forcing him to bow and say namaste. He was dragging the poor boy by his arm in every which way. I tried to explain to the man to stop. That the boy didn’t want to do these things. That he’s just a child and he’s scared of us. I mean, imagine that, we looked so different and all the sudden he’s being forced to sit on these two strangers’ laps. He was visibly scared. Consciously, I kept calm, said what needed to be said, but also realized I have no control over other people. I am not God and cannot control the trajectory of their lives or which families each person is born into. But subconsciously, I was very bothered. I did not like seeing a young child be so pushed around and forced into doing things they don’t wish to do and that scare them. To be threatened with punishment if they don’t bend to the will of the insane person taking care of them. That’s all dualistic judgement, even though it’s true on the most basic level. Don’t get me wrong, I will speak up when necessary if I look at something that’s not right… but if I look into it, well, that’s different. That’s the next level. 

Meanwhile, the man would not leave me and my friend alone. I’m pretty sure he was only speaking Hindi to us. It was very unclear what he wanted… I think he wanted to invite us over to his house, or take a bunch of pictures to prove and document this meeting, or perhaps he wanted some other things entirely. Either way, it was as if he couldn’t even conceptualize the fact that people from other places don’t speak the same language as him and we could not understand a single thing he was trying to say. But he was trying to say it, nonetheless.

Days later, in meditation, it dawned on me. All these things seemed to come together.

In the recent occurrences I’ve been “attacked”, I’ve been so busy wondering what I had done to manifest such a situation… What karma I must hold to attract such occurrences… What I need to do to remove such defects from my inner world… Well behind all these questions is a mind game that wishes to punish. It’s good to take responsibility, because we truly are responsible, especially the more and more we wish to awaken. However, it wasn’t until meditation, that it dawned on me, that in these “attacks”, it was as if a dog I was feeding bit my hand. And bit hard. And while I walked away feeling bad for the dog, but also never wanting to interact badly with another dog again, and confused over what I may have done to upset the dog, I suddenly realized, that it’s not about me. Not in the way my mind has been thinking it is… Those occurrences specifically were not only about my defects… what they were was practice! If I want to see truth, live in truth, and maybe help others find their own, well I sure am going to ruffle a few feathers along the way. Because the ego and mind do not like truth. They do not like reality. Truth is a medicine and some medicines interact badly with certain systems depending on how clogged and polluted the system is. That’s fine. It was as if my highest self dropped the bombshell on me, “This was practice. This was nothing. Whatchu on about? If you actually want to self-realize, if you actually want to transcend dualistic perceptions, not everyone is gonna like it or receive it well. Get used to it. ” I love that kind of sting. What a relief, in a way. Rather than the mind reading into it so deeply. All it was, was practice to not get identified. Because if I’m identified with the attacks, I am certainly identified with praise too, no matter how humble I convince myself I am. It’s all just fog amongst the mountains.

And the next level to this is, perhaps you can love the dog that bit you after you’ve walked away and you’re safe… but can you love the dog that bites your hand? Can you love him in the moment that your hand is in his jaws? To me, this is Mastery. This is Truth. This is the goal. I may see the mountain, but I’ve yet to start climbing. 

My friend recently spoke to me how the essence is like a child and to truly individualize is to become a child again, but with total awareness. To become innocent again through awareness, not just naivety. This is the next revolutionary stage of the human. And again, it dawned on me… That little boy at the bus station is the essence, and that man, his father is the mind. I am that man! Who am I to judge him? I do exactly the same as he does! I allow my mind to push around my essence, I allow the ego to abuse the essence against its divine Will. I have allowed the balance of powers to get out of hand. All the evil we perceive in the world is within us. But so is the goodness. And beyond all that, is the truth. 

I’m so grateful to my friend and his insights. I’m grateful for him showing me the map. The age of the Guru is over. The age of friends (and gym buddies) is here. It is the age of Aquarius. Anything is possible. We’re all interconnected globally. Aquarius is the water-bearer and also represents the domain of friendship. So if we can all help each other out with our own unique gifts, knowing that nobody is better than anyone else, if we can leave each place we visit a little cleaner, if we can make the path easier for the next person, let’s do that. That’s true friendship. That’s the true Aquarian spirit.

Trying to find the truth is somehow hilarious. Because everyone is so serious about it. But I think the big cosmic joke that I’m still unboxing is that it’s right here, right now. Well, jokes on me. I certainly have been running around frantically searching for the keys which I have yet to discover, even though they are probably right in my pocket. Once I have them, I’ll just laugh and walk right through the gate. Gate, gate, paragate parasamgate bodhi swaha. 

The Third Force: Revolution

when i was a teenager, i had a short, yet potent dream of meeting president john f kennedy somewhere underground. without going into the details of that dream, he revealed to me that there was much more to history and “his story” than was ever openly revealed publicly. at the time, i didn’t know much about the kennedy’s. perhaps it was simply, just a dream, but i woke up the following morning with a new curiosity coming from somewhere deep and intuitive, and not intellectual. i wish to acknowledge that alternate narratives and conspiracies were not on my radar at the time, and i was not learning about him in school, nor was i watching or reading anything with him in it, and as far as i knew, no one around me was talking about him. but suddenly, i had this curious interest in the space race, the civil rights movement of the 60s, the vietnam war. all things we unfortunately hardly touched in school curriculum (at least to the degree i would have liked). in fact, i never heard a peep of the vietnam war in any of my history classes. not once. and like most things, i had to go and learn it on my own. and so i did. 

and while my hunger in understanding my home country of the united states of america through its past was growing, i felt the kennedy’s somehow at the center of this newfound curiosity and interest. i never went so deep into their entire story and legacy, but something in me felt deeply moved by president jfk and his brother robert (bobby) mennedy, who were both shot and murdered at the height of their political influence, which was changing the game and threatening the main stream narrative, big shots and powers-that-be of the time. 

a handful of years later, and a handful of years ago, i decided to stop voting in presidential elections **until** i feel there’s someone actually worth voting for. no more - excuse my language -shit verses vomit. i won’t play that game. i won’t support anyone on either or any side who, in my perception, is quite blatantly a mere puppet moved by their own personal interests, easily manipulated, with withering integrity. i don’t care, i just won’t do it. i will however, support anyone on any side who has a backbone, isn’t easily manipulated, not afraid of a debate, supports and defends free speech without exception, and actually represents the interests of the people and the planet. not their own personal interests, not the corporations interests, not the elite’s interest. it’s literally that simple. if i see a promise of someone who is for the people, by the people, i’ll definitely consider!

but who cares what i think and what my views are. this piece is in no way to convince or persuade anyone to align with my own personal and developing beliefs and opinions. beliefs and opinions, while important, are not to be glorified as some ultimate truth, because they aren’t. they are beliefs and opinions. and usually they are quite flimsy. take a moment to look back in your own life and think about how many times you held a belief or opinion very tightly, only to either gracefully or traumatically let it go and maybe switch opinions entirely. what did you believe at age 15, 16, 17, age 20, 25, 40, 45, 60? what were your views about politics, religion, god, philosophy, the environment, aliens, art, literature, music, having children, what’s healthy to eat, what looks good, who you should or shouldn’t sleep with, what you feel happiness entails, what your vocational and overall life visions were. literally anything. are all your beliefs and views the same? i highly doubt it. do you even cringe sometimes about thinking about things you used to “believe” were true? probably. so consider this. you may even look back at who you claim to be now in some future moment, and have a cringe. so why trust everything you believe now to be the ultimate truth when you also believed things in the past to be the ultimate truth, only to disregard them later? 

i’m guilty of this in the past, but i’m learning from experience, and i am doing my ultimate best not to hold on to anything too tightly, but rather - dissect it, criticize it, hold it in many different lights, different angles, be open to seeing it in other ways. listen to others. be humble enough to possibly be wrong. i’m not saying to not have opinions or beliefs. in fact, they’re a natural part of growth and identity. beliefs and opinions can stand close to our moral ethics and convictions, and that’s great, but they should be malleable and developing too. because until you’re some enlightened master, there’s no way you know the ultimate truth, which is probably beyond all these sometimes important and sometimes petty subjects and limited perceptions anyways. 

i’m all up for debate and discourse. in fact, i think it’s healthy and important part of a developing person and society. but debate is not the same as a fight. so why fight over beliefs? why create more division? why censor? why cancel? if your convictions are so strong and guided by independent thought, something genuine and integral, you won’t be so easily offended. you won’t be so fragile. you’ll be able to listen to others, no matter how different their views are from yours, you’ll be able to sit at a round table discussion, you’ll be at least willing to change. you’ll be able to see through the lens of unity, which is NOT homogeny, by the way. i repeat: homogeny is not the same thing as unity. 

personally, my top priority will always be the development of my soul. and perhaps that’s not your top priority or something you even connect to. no problem. while i see the inner work as the most important thing to personal, spiritual, human, and planetary evolution as far as we can or can’t perceive, i still think what’s going on in the world around us is very important. i have no desire to be a monk on a hill forever forgetting society and the world (lol maybe i do sometimes, but i won’t be pursuing that in this life, most likely). i see the outside world as a reflection of the collective and that collective will always reflect within ourselves individually. i’m learning from experience that as long as there’s a bill gates, jeffrey epstein, darth vader and voldemort out on the world stage, there are also elements of them deep within my (and mostly everyone’s) own unconscious and sub-psyche and they must be eradicated. in order to do this, they must be seen and exposed. we must look within ourselves. this is what i mean by the development of the soul. it is a cleaning out of the dark which bears new light. this begins individually. this is beyond mechanical evolution. this is revolution. as above, so below. as within, so with out.

and while i’m always striving to create the space for a revolution within, so too am i hopeful for one in the external world, amongst the greater collective. we live in unbelievably potent times and while much of the arrows are pointing toward degeneration and destruction, i also see the potential for unlimited possibilities and many of those containing hope, positive change, and revolution beyond our limited imaginations. anything is possible burns in the flames of my heart. while i’m deeply concerned about certain subjects like the speedy and unchecked growth of AI, it’s potential to lock humanity into a very scary place, i also see its potential as a tool of positive change. while the internet is a crazy, wild place that’s encouraged addiction and disconnection, how cool is it that we have it to communicate instantly? to find information (true or false) about literally anything within seconds. you see. tools are tools. they’re neutral. and tools are not the problem. … we are. but we can also be the solution. the threats to our very existence are not things like AI and the internet, the danger resides in how we choose to use those things, both individually and collectively. 

something i find madly exciting about this time is the potential power of the people and the people finding new outlets of power. think about it. mainstream media has been defiled by liars, bribery, and corruption beyond comprehension, yet it’s losing so much steam. it’s like a walking zombie, a jittery corpse, holding on to its last breath. the people have turned to alternative media sources for their information- for anything! political, spiritual, health related, philosophical. social media is in a way, the voice of the people and while it’s full of trash and censorship (which needs to end), it holds tremendous influence. certain podcasts have more influence than mainstream media ever had. and there’s so much out there. just people, talking, whether you agree with them or not, with de-sensationalized, real, genuine conversations- something i feel we’re all craving. there’s finally variety! and as long as free speech is protected and the censorship ceases, so much cool things can happen. while at times, and still in ways, i’ve felt hopelessness, i’m also feeling a new rush and wave of hopefulness coming in. 

when i started wisdom weavers podcast, that was my intention. to create a platform of variety, meaningfulness, and inspiration. i’d love if this podcast inspires an air of thoughtfulness, debate, and round table discussion within the people who listen. i’d love if it offends as much as if it resonates. agrees with as much as it disagrees with. 

before i published the first episode here, i made a list of people i’d love to have on the podcast. from friends to celebrities, anyone, even if it’s probably impossible to have them on. robert f kennedy jr, bobby kennedy’s son, was on that list. someone i’ve followed a bit and admired for a while now. and while it’s unlikely he’d ever be on this podcast, i still wrote him down on that list.

if you don’t know who he is, he’s a lawyer, environmental advocate, and someone who has spent his life fighting corruption and standing up for people, the planet, water, and children. and like most things, while he’s probably not a perfect person, as i have yet to meet one, he exemplifies the qualities of a political leader i feel many of us are craving. honesty, integrity, a truly scientific mind, openness to discourse and debate, compassion, love for water, the planet and love for the people. he’s both stated plainly and demonstrated through action that he wishes to use all the parts that unite us to drive his campaign forward. he’s not interested in attention through division. that’s why i feel the people who will vote for him are people of every class, creed, age and color. i bet he’ll even be endorsed by lifelong republicans, even though he’s running on the democratic ballot. but time will only tell and it isn’t really my point. look, you don’t have to like him or agree with him or me, again, that’s not my purpose here. not at all. there’s something deeper i wish to illuminate.

if you search him through mainstream outlets and journals or read about him on wikipedia, within one sentence he’s smeared and written off as a “conspiracy theorist” and “anti-vaxxer”, which he’d never claim himself to be either of those and neither would i. this is due to his relentless fight against corruption, mainly focused on big pharma and exposing the crimes they’ve committed in regards to many of their drugs and vaccines. to me, he’s not anti-vax, he’s anti-crime and corruption. and he’s pro-freedom, pro-planet, pro-water, transparency and democracy. that is all. when any media outlet or person tries to smear someone by calling them “anti-vax” or “conspiracy theorist”, it’s a sure sign of a vague and lazy argument. to take someones entire body of work (which they probably didn’t even take the time to get to know) and stick an over simplistic label on it, is a symptom of feebleness. of utter weakness. it is a sure sign they’ll never openly debate the person they wish to defame. it is a sure sign that something they wish to protect is being threatened. whether there’s an insidious agenda behind that or they just can’t let the possibility of their tightly held world view or opinion to change… for them to possibly be wrong. 

because we can have different perspectives on any issue like health, abortion, taxes, whatever- but trying to shut someone down or censor them, definitely makes them more intriguing to me and worth considering. if mainstream narrative wants someone to shut up, i definitely want to hear what they have to say. and i’m pretty sure i’m not the only one. i’m not saying all conspiracy theories are true and that every drug big pharma has ever peddled is bad, no not at all. but i do know the threat and censorship of these topics to certain bodies, who lazily and hastily smear them as “misinformation”, “conspiracy theory”, and pretty much anti-their agenda, points to something relevant within them. because you know who else was censored and pretty much labeled a crackpot conspiracy theorist by the authorities-that-be of the time? …. galileo , nikola tesla , gandhi, pythagoras, just to name a few.

and i’m not saying crackpots don’t exist, there’s plenty, but when the mainstream narrative is threatened by a so-called one, they may not be so crackpot after all. 

so, i might actually vote now that rfk jr. is running for president. and he totally could win. who knows, maybe i’ll change my mind, i don’t know - but i don’t care who you or anyone voted for or if they vote at all. again, not my point here. i’m just excited by this new wave of media, and change happening in how we interact with information and communication.

we, the people, have power. and despite this degenerative mess we’re in that’s due to unchecked power and individual ignorance, we’ve never had so many possibilities open. this is the age of aquarius. this is the age of the future. this is the age of the people. so the question is, are we willing to change? i mean that on the individual level: are we willing to look within ourselves? are we willing to expose our own tyranny to ourselves? are we willing to die to our own outdated and tightly held opinions and beliefs? are we willing for our own perceptions of the world to be turned upside down?

within the spinning wheel of time, there’s devolution and evolution. but let’s not forget that within the law of three, there’s always a third force: revolution. 

…so what ya reckon?

Reflections on the Precipice of 30.

i’ve always had a special connection to numbers. some sort of variation of synesthesia. i remember small and large number patterns without consciously trying. even if someone told me their birthday 10 years ago and i don’t even know their name, i’ll still remember their birthday, that number. that energetic signature. my mom has this same strange psycho-spiritual brain synesthetic connection as well. people who know me well, know this strange ability of mine. for me, in this bizarre connection i’ve always had, numbers are living, conscious beings. they have colors, emotions, and feelings associated with them. they are codes and symbols to a deeper language our average consciousness does not understand. they speak some universal metaphysical spiritually-scientific language we haven’t yet reached in awareness. but i can feel into them. i like the energy of some numbers better than others. i tend to gravitate toward odd numbers and struggle more with even numbers. 

in just two days from now, i cross the pearly gates into my 30s. my 30th birthday. weird. for the past 10 years, i have been twenty-something. twenty-this, twenty-that. but now i’m almost thirty. an even number, which i don’t tend to resonate with usually… but when i look at 30, i see 3-0. three and some empty space to play with. and i love 3. one of my favorite numbers. it feels initiatory, yet child-like and pure. it is dynamic and energetic. and it is a certain shade of orange. there is something magical about 3. because in a way, one and one is three. one human and another human can create another being. it is alchemical by nature. it is creative on its own. so then what about 30… in astrology, there are 30 degrees in every sign. when you reach 30, you enter a new archetype, a new zodiac sign. the wheel turns once again. it is an initiation into a new aspect of the godhead. there’s a power behind this number, something fresh and new.

a lot has been coming up the past month especially in regards to this approaching solar return. it feels like it will be a big letting go, but right now it’s all just building up at peak capacity. often in society, there’s some sort of self-deprecating humor around this number. that’s garbage, though, and i cannot relate to that. perhaps it’s self-deprecating if you’re so far from living your truth. 

every year of my 20s, especially after turning 24, i found myself more and more. living life in a slightly increasing liberation than i ever had before. building a trust with the universe that i will be held as i veered farther and farther away from the boundaries of my perceptions of safety and security. and that trust has only increased. it wasn’t this way for many years. for many years i battled with fear of the future verse trust. and while i still feel fear quite intensely at times, while it still tests me very often, i feel the trust has grown stronger and stronger. and somehow, birth has led the way. often births i’ve attended of magical little people entering this world, but also through that, many births of my own self.

but 30 is new. i’ve never been 30 anything before. not as felicia, at least. i don’t know what 30 feels like. some grief around the heart has come up in the past month. things i thought were of the past, coming back up to be seen and released. and it took a lot of tears and ritual to let them go. they were urging to be released before this birthday. firmly asking to be let go as they were of the trials and tribulations of my 20s. a veil had thinned between my mind, womb, and heart and there was an opportunity to feel some pain that had been tucked away. and i fully went there. i’m glad i did, because with the help of my favorite plant friend, the rose, and some dear sisters, i had courage to feel what i hadn’t had courage to feel back then. echoes of past grief, some knowable and some to remain a mystery. i still feel loads of tears coming, like there is a divine opportunity at the edge of 30 let go of all grievances, expectations, and burdens i had tucked into my conscious, but mostly subconscious of my 20s, and start fresh. maybe part of this build up the past month or so was feeling unready to let these things go. but now that i have, i already feel wings spreading farther than before. an ownership over my path that had really been brewing in the past few years. 

so i wanted to revisit each birthday of my 20s, to see where i was at during this solar point in the year.

20th birthday: 

i was living in the west village in nyc. amy winehouse had just died the previous day, the same day my mom flew in to surprise me and visit me. we are both huge fans of hers. i felt like i had lost a friend and my mom and i got to grieve together. at the same time i was feeling super extroverted and sexy. my hair was as long as it’s ever been, and even now, i’m growing it back out to what it was then. a bunch of my friends and i had dinner at a trendy italian restaurant in the village, my mom bought me heaps of clothes at free people and then i went out clubbing that night, haha.

21st birthday:

i was in kansas city visiting my parents for part of the summer. many of my high school friends were back for a little bit of that time too. my 21st birthday was the night before i had a flight to paris, so i didn’t want to turn up too hard. i was so excited to travel… traveling is my happiest place. my friends bought be a bunch of trashy 21st birthday paraphernalia and dressed me up in it. it was hilarious. we all went to a bar and they were bummed i wasn’t getting as drunk as society would have expected of me (the legal drinking age in america is 21, so this birthday is a big deal there), but i had my eyes set on flying far far away.

22nd birthday:

my boyfriend at the time and i had just moved into an apartment together alone in the neighborhood astoria in nyc. it was cool to have that space to ourselves. i through a big party with a bunch of my friends. loads of people came over. it was sort of a house warming party and birthday party all in one. i’m pretty sure i was drunk and probably stoned as well. i was wearing fucking amazing high waisted white pants with an orange bralette top… that i had bought that day, from free people of course.

23rd birthday:

i think i was a little bit bored in life at this point. something deep in my energetic layers was wanting to release that was taking time for me to understand. because of this, ages 21-23 kind of blend as one thing. they were rather slow moving. this birthday was chill and quiet. i was at my best friend arielle’s home in long island with her and my boyfriend. we ate the most amazing cake from milk bar. i don’t remember much more of this birthday.

24th birthday:

my golden birthday. born on the 24th, turning 24. oh wow. this one was huge. my whole life was about to change in ways i couldn’t even imagine yet. i had just separated (very harmoniously) from my boyfriend of 7ish years. my mom and i were in a super weird space. all my relationships were changing, especially to myself. i felt aspects of myself returning to me that i never even knew had left. i felt a high frequency energy just tingling, just beginning to buzz through my field, which would in a few months time from then, then lead to a kundalini awakening experience. i was on the precipice of a spiritual awakening and an initiation into a level a freedom that is still unfolding to this day. i felt like i was lighter than a feather and everything was perfect. of course this wouldn’t last forever, but it was certainly present at the time. i invited a bunch of my friends to crown vic, a huge outdoor bar in williamsburg brooklyn. we reserved a huge part of the bar and it felt like everyone showed up. even my newly ex-boyfriend was there, and everyone was shocked we were so harmonious after the separation. i think he felt lighter as well. i drank a lot. i was celebrating and i had all the reason to celebrate.

25th birthday:

there was a festival on governors island in nyc called panorama. i went with a few friends and we were rolling high on mdma at the lcd soundsystem headliner show. it was fucking great. they became one of my favorite bands and live shows that night. i saw them again since then. 

26th birthday:

i was in amsterdam. i was in love with the place for a long time and i was also falling in love with a man at the time, who’d be my partner for the next chapter. i was staying with my dear friends morgan and brad who live in amsterdam. it was low key, with a few old friends, new friends, and a new love. i really didn’t want that summer to end. i didn’t want to return to nyc. i was ready to be done with nyc, but it wasn’t done with me quite yet. there was some fear, but things were fresh.

27th birthday:

i was back in amsterdam. i had just arrived the day before. with my partner at the time and morgan and brad. we had a really nice dinner. i forced my partner to go see an creepy, scary, arthouse film with me that night… hereditary. i still remember he got me a few presents and one of them was sunglasses with an extra lens for the third eye. i loved that.

28th birthday:

the actual day itself was good. but this time in my life was not a breeze in the slightest. it was a hurricane of wind. it was a massive initiation. it was the tower card meets the wheel meets the star, crossed with the 3 of swords… i was riding the tidal waves of heartbreak and grief and also the universe was throwing my path right into my face and i was walking it, confused how all this order and chaos was simultaneously weaving itself together through my life at this very moment. the two weeks before this day, i was feeling so down and so sad that i was approaching my birthday and this sadness wasn’t going to magically leave. i was sad just anticipating being sad on my birthday. i have always loved my birthday, but at this point i wanted to crawl up in a ball and hide there. i was in so much pain. but then on july 10th, just 2 weeks before my birthday, something i had been waiting for for a long time arrived. something i had sort of let go of needing yesterday. it was my eu citizenship in lithuania. suddenly layers of the sadness lifted and i felt a warmth and triumph i hadn’t felt for a long time. i felt multiple doors swinging open for me. things began to get better at this point. it came just in time for my birthday. i felt my time in nyc was finally coming to an end with a new journey beginning on the horizon. on the day of my birthday, i had a picnic in williamsburg with some friends and then two of us went up to road to rough trade to see a gig of this turkish-dutch band from amsterdam called altin gün. it was packed and they were wicked. i had a lot of fun.

29th birthday:

i was just days away from finishing the entire camino del norte, the northern route of the camino de santiago. i was on the 25th or 26th day of my 32-day trek across the entire north coast of spain. the day before, i had broke off from the traditional route and went a slightly harder route with 3 other friends i had met along the way. on this day, in the morning, my friends had little cakes for me at this really cute albergue we were staying at. on my 29th birthday, i walked the longest i had walked in a given day… maybe ever. i think about 42km. it was also the most mountainous day of the camino. it was gorgeous and perfect, i had all the energy for it. most of it was spent trekking alone through mountains, but at certain stops, i’d meet up with my friends and at the end of the day we all came together. it was simple, but i was traveling a new part of the world by foot. it was a much more profound experience than i had expected.

so let’s see what this birthday brings. i am currently awaiting on the birth of a baby who i’ll be attending. he’s officially going to be leo and i can’t wait to witness his entry into this world. who knows, it’s a good chance he and i will share a birthday. can’t think of a better way to celebrate my 30th birthday than witnessing and holding space at somebody’s actual day of birth. 

i love how birth leads the way in my life. it shows me where to go and what i need to do. it initiates me with wisdom that i couldn’t have known before. there is an acceptance for the cycles of birth, death, and rebirth. maiden, mother, crone. and that’s what 30 is. all of those together. 

i’m excited to see what 30 brings me in my life. i feel it will be massive, different than all the 20s. if i had one wish for my 30th, it would be to fly, in all the ways possible.

aho!

this is my truth

not all who wander are lost.

i am currently nomadic, but i’ve never been more grounded in my life. 

as i’m days away from approaching my 29th birthday, ive been reflecting on a lot. i am currently 7 days (out of approximately 35) into walking the camino del norte, in northern spain. passing towns, speaking “spanish” in simple words i’ve collected along the way, listening to the sounds of nature, i’ve had a lot of time alone. with my thoughts and emotions. in clarity, without distraction. and on this eclipse, i feel it all bubbling up inside of me.

my heart voice has always been louder than my head voice, to the point that if i don’t listen to it, it literally feels as though i’m energetically walking through mud. i will get ill. i literally cannot not listen to it at this point, and trust me, i’ve resisted many times... which always leads me painfully back on course. at this point, when she speaks, and speaks loudly, i have to listen.

today she is commanding i speak my truth. something i haven’t felt ready to do for a while. i’ve felt safer just keeping my eyes open, listening, and keeping my mouth shut. and in a world where i see so many people shouting with their hands over their ears, ive felt turned off to speaking. but when it flows through the heart, it has to be spoken. so this feels vulnerable. i don’t know where this is going to go, but here i go.

as a child, i would completely lose track of time and place, lost in deep thoughts, questions about life and death and spirit, and creative stories and fantasies that occupied my mind. 

i was diagnosed with attention deficit disorder, something health and educational authorities told my parents is a huge obstacle, something that potentially will set me back if not taken care of. to me, a.d.d is a gift of a condition, and only a disorder in the context of a society that is sick, seeing obedience as a virtue and completely devaluing intuition, creativity, and the divine feminine. i was ridiculed and made fun of countless times by peers and adults, actual authority figures, over my so perceived empty-headedness, called stupid and “on the spectrum” - of course i knew none of this was true, and it was coming from a bunch people who need to make fun of others to feel okay inside, but it still hurt me and effected me deeply. but this condition saved me from fully locking into the matrix of negative programming that society is riddled with. of course, i’m still programmed af, but not nearly as much as i would have been had i been a good child, listened to the teacher, and grounded my self-worth in a system based on reward and punishment. i would have probably gone on to get a job that felt safe, socially acceptable, slowly allowed my head voice to dominate and degrade my heart voice, and never question reality with the fire that i always have and still do today. 

the truth is, i never had an attention problem, i was simply paying full attention to the things that mattered to my heart and soul, and disregarding that which didn’t authentically matter to me, such as a lot of what was being shoved down all our throats over what is acceptable and what is not. what is “true” and what is not. of course, i still swallowed much of it, but here i am still trying to purge the garbage. and it is because of this condition that my intuition and heart voice is so loud and clear.

when i process the state of the world, i oscillate between terror and excitement. there have been a few nights in the past few months that i’ve woken up in the middle of the night, shaking with chills, and literally purged. in terms of terror, it is terrifying to see what i and so many others, see. humanity being played. manipulated through our biggest fears, ancestral wounds, and deepest insecurities. facing the harsh reality that much of global society is run by dark occult psychopaths, controlling and censoring honest information + free thought, and dividing the masses in a way in which they begin policing each other and virtue signaling. ushering themselves into their own cages and handing over the key to those dark and corrupt leaders, known and unknown. we live in a state in which it’s as if our so called “leaders” are throwing us the scraps and here we are shouting and arguing amongst each other over the specificities of the scraps rather than holding our leadership accountable for their criminal actions and connections. 

if you don’t know who jeffrey epstein is (i have chills even writing his name), do your research. look into his so called suicide and his flight logs to his private island. dig deeper. question everything with an open mind. and allow your mind to change and shift. 

look at who’s censoring information, who owns the so called “fact checking” companies. who’s funding the “science” behind what you’re seeing. you have been a fed a lie and the biggest virus is that of fear and the eradication of critical thinking. follow the paper trail. everything is in plain site. and everything is connected, like a web. 

you don’t have to be a genius to see it, you just have to be willing to have your sense of reality shattered (not easy at all)- but on the other side of it is tremendous personal power if you’re willing to do the work.

source from within. don’t make something true just because someone told you so, just because it’s what you’re seeing on every corner of mainstream media. you know what’s true for you. if you grow the volume of your inner voice, it will tell you when something is not right, even while it’s being shoved down your throat. this is hard work, and goddess knows i’m trying my best. i’m not perfect. nobody is perfect. and nobody has all the answers.

when we live in a society that upholds a reductionist, materialistic approach to reality and views scientism as the new “god”,so divorced from spirit, we cannot hear our own truth. it’s then that we become completely occult illiterate, unable to see the rituals taking place right before our eyes. all magic requires permission and permission is often given through ignorance. 

we become unable to critically think and think for ourselves. and unable to hold space for perspectives other than our own in our field. we consume perspective rather than allow it to be born within us. we’re constantly triggered and reactionary, which makes us so easily manipulated. 

i come from a place of love. and a place of privilege. i am aware of this and i am grateful for all i have, all i’ve been given, and also, all i’ve worked hard for.  i honor those in deep suffering and i hope to become an even better listener than i ever have been. 

the ways in which we face the collective’s shadow mirrors how we face our own shadows. it’s scary as fuck. it is terrifying to see clearly and i understand why many very smart and capable people (aka almost everyone) prefer to cover their eyes and only swallow what they’re told to see and think. beyond processing what i am witnessing and effected by, i am processing and working through my own personal fear of rejection. 

truth is relative and multidimensional. if you resonate with my truth, great. if you don’t resonate with my truth, great, we can still be friends. i’m not here to convert anyone, i don’t need people to agree with me. i’m here to inspire people to listen to their own authentic inner voice, whatever that may be. ... but if my truth offends and triggers you so much that you simply don’t have the energetic space within yourself for an honest, differing perspective than your own, then good riddance and goddess bless you. i’d be lying if i said i’m not afraid of being ostracized, seen as crazy, berated, or cut out- i am. i am very sensitive. however, the scales have tipped. speaking my truth holds more energetic weight than fear. i am called to speak my truth and i have to listen to my inner guidance despite my deep fears. and at the end of the day, i know who i am, i know what i think and feel (it’s open, expansive, malleable and ever changing) and i believe i am finally grounded and mature enough to know all this without needing everyone else to know it. 

😊but also, if you can’t see my light, then you’re blind 💗 

i hold a higher vision for society in my heart. one of true sovereignty and freedom. where people unify and actually stand for something. where the diversity of thoughts, perspectives, experiences, and people are celebrated, not used for the agenda of the few and spiritually weak who have consolidated so much power through our ignorance. i hold a vision for a society that is by the people for the people, where real leadership can be born.

 and it’s terrifying for me, but if i’m not able to speak my truth, what am i doing sitting back and waiting for a leader who will do it for me? nobody is coming to save us. we are the ones who we’ve been searching for. 

and to all you “spiritual” people. if you think love and light is going to passively bypass you out of facing the shadows, please reconsider. and for those of you who think you’re awake (and everyone else is sleeping) because you see the game being played,  the work doesn’t end there. go deeper. we all have to go deeper and face ourselves. this is only the beginning. 

it is a constant swing of oscillation for me, terror to excitement. but there is an underlying faith. it’s is hard work to find my center and generate that neutral peaceful feeling within, i’m still working on bridging access to this place within the navigation of more challenging moments and emotions. as many parallel realities and probabilities converge and divert, i wish to resonate with the world in which my vision manifests. when i’m feeling down, i hear a deep voice inside me say, i didn’t incarnate here at this time to watch the world degrade, i came here to participate in its transformation into light.

and i am excited about my personal life and path, even as i genuinely fear for the state of the world, i also feel so in flow. so on the right path. i feel guided in every moment... well, most moments. as long as i am inspired into a place of being of service, everything falls into place, but not without the pain, challenges, and lessons of life, of course. as long as humanity is still fertile, babies are still being born and i’ll be continuing this sacred work in the most awesomest of ways come this fall. 

cheers. and all my love to you.

felicia.