There’s a part of me that could live as a hermit, tucked away in the wild, watching birds, feeling the earth hum under my bare feet.

And I’m pretty sure, on another timeline, that’s exactly what I’m doing.

But in this timeline, I am prioritizing my daughter—a vibrant, relational spirit who craves more social stimulation than I do.

Today, she called the day “boring” even after a full watercolor class, a piano lesson, and a play.

Yesterday, she had more peer interaction—running errands and laughing with me in the car afterward—and she called it fun.

She needs connection.

And me?

I’m good after chatting with a stranger in the grocery store or sending a few texts.

I’m still peeling back layers of performance—remnants of years spent becoming “good at people” through theater, through survival, through all the ways the world teaches you to perform.

Now, I’m remembering who I am underneath it all.

I’m learning how to honor my own rhythm while also showing up for her.

Today, I found balance by walking in nature while she attended a writing class.

Nourishment for both of us.

No apology needed.

This morning, my soul cracked open.

I sat outside, feeling a deep, humming harmony inside my body—a soft but certain knowing that the Universe wants to give to me.

That there’s a homestead waiting.

Freedom.

Provision.

Life on sacred land for me and my girl.

And yet…

Lingering underneath was an old shame, tied to a time I didn’t accept abundance:

A financial gain I didn’t take because it felt…wrong.

Stealing, almost.

Energy not earned in a way that was clean to my spirit.

I watched friends day-trading and thought, This isn’t it. This isn’t my path.

And that guilt— that fear of receiving—isn’t mine anymore.

It came from the Matrix.

From capitalism’s grind.

From the way even spiritual people get caught up in scarcity, performance, and chasing.

It doesn’t belong to my future.

Right as I was sitting with that, an old ghost from the past appeared.

A former “friend” from Mystery School—someone I had lovingly but firmly cut ties with after her codependent grip grew too heavy—messaged me out of nowhere.

Uninvited, intrusive energy.

Peddling salvation like a product:

“Follow the goad or be lost.”

(Dangling fear like a carrot. Manipulating through spiritual words. We’ve all seen it.)

I blocked her.

Again.

Because I have that right.

Because I don’t owe anyone access to my sacred space.

I felt compassion for her.

Truly.

But I also honored the part of me that said, No, thank you. Not in my field.

I don’t need to hustle.

I don’t need to go viral.

I don’t need to contort my heart to fit a feed or sell my soul to algorithms.

I’m not here to proselytize.

I’m here to tell the truth—as it lives inside me—even if it reaches three people instead of three million.

The truth is this:

The fewer filters I put between my heart and the page, the more aligned my life becomes.

The less I grip at what’s not mine, the more freely the Universe gives.

Today, I watched birds overhead.

I let the sun kiss my face.

I let peace, not pressure, guide me.

And I trust—with every cell of my being—that everything meant for me is already on its way.

No fear.

No force.

No compromise.

I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Right here.

Right now.

~