There are moments in life that wake us up without asking permission. They don’t come gently. They don’t arrive with instructions. They simply happen, and suddenly everything looks and feels different. When I was very young, I fell into a septic tank. I remember the shock of it, the panic, and the feeling that I might not get out. I was flailing, scared, and overwhelmed, and then somehow, almost instinctively, I grabbed the edge of a board and pulled myself up and out. When I finally stood there, covered in filth, I took a deep breath. It was one of those breaths you never forget. The kind that fills your lungs and reminds you that you’re alive. It was a horrible situation. And yet, it gave me a deep appreciation for life that never really left me.
Over the years, I’ve come to understand that many of life’s hardest moments carry a strange kind of clarity with them. Pain has a way of stripping things down to what really matters. When we’re uncomfortable, frightened, or pushed to our limits, we often see truth more clearly than when everything feels easy and predictable.
I believe that truth can be accessed through the body, through our pain, and through self-awareness, if we are willing to listen. Our experiences, even the messy and painful ones, are constantly communicating with us. They are asking us to slow down, pay attention, and feel what we’ve been trying not to feel.
People often come to me because they want someone to truly listen. Not to fix them. Not to judge them. Just to hear what they’re carrying. They speak, and then they ask what I think, or what I feel is coming through. What I’ve learned is that guidance doesn’t come from forcing answers, it comes from creating space.
For many years now, I’ve been developing my connection to source and learning how to receive guidance through what some might call higher awareness. For me, this guidance comes through listening, artwork, and pen work. I have a handmade book where messages come through on physical, mental, emotional, and even karmic levels. It’s not something I plan, it’s something I allow.
At the heart of everything I do is a desire to help people rediscover joy. Sometimes that joy comes through deep realizations. Other times, it comes through laughter. I truly believe humor is one of the most powerful healing tools we have. A well-timed joke, a light moment, or shared laughter can soften even the heaviest days.
I believe the Creator wants us to be happy. When we ask for help, from our higher self, from source, from whatever name feels right to us, help is sent. Often in subtle ways. Often patiently. Sometimes through experiences that prepare us before we even realize what they’re doing.
My purpose, as I understand it, is to walk alongside people as they remember who they truly are. To help them work through their blocks, reconnect with their hearts, and find joy again, sometimes in profound ways, and sometimes in simple, human moments.
And every now and then, if the opportunity presents itself, I’ll remind them to laugh. Because even in life’s messiest moments, there is still room for light.
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