Tag Archives: Spirituality

things inspiring me at the turn of a new year

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The turning of a new year feels like a threshold. A liminal space where the old hasn’t fully released and the new is still forming. I’m approaching this year with reverence and a willingness to listen.

I’m inspired by emptiness and pause, by moving slowly enough to feel my breath, my body, and the subtle ways intuition speaks. Though I’m nearly 60, this season is teaching me that becoming is a spiritual process, not something to force, but something to tend. I often feel like I’m learning things I wish I’d practiced in my 40s.

Music, art, and tarot are my spiritual anchors. Music connects me to vibration and frequency, but also to younger years, to innocence and curiosity, adventure and fearlessness. Music brings me back into rhythm when I feel scattered, and art is a devotional practice, a way of communing with the divine through color, texture, and movement. It allows emotion to alchemize into meaning without needing explanation.

Tarot is my sacred mirror. Not a tool for prediction, but a language of images and symbols that invite dialogue with my soul. Each card is an invitation to slow down, to notice what is stirring beneath the surface, and to trust my inner wisdom over all the external noise.

My rituals tend to be simple yet intentional. Making my morning cup of coffee. Lighting a candle before I begin. Playing music with awareness. Creating without an outcome in mind. Pulling a card and sitting with its message as a form of prayer. These practices ground me in the present moment and remind me that spirituality lives in attention, not performance, and for one who has struggled with crippling performance anxiety, it is an invitation to let go.

This year, I’m choosing devotion over productivity, alignment over striving. I’m honoring rest as sacred and simplicity as a form of truth. I’m learning to recognize the divine in ordinary moments: A familiar melody, light through my window, the quiet companionship of my beloved pup.

As I step into this new year, I am trying my best to do so with soft faith. Trusting timing, the unseen, and allowing life to unfold as it will. Let me be guided by sound, symbol, and creative spirit, for they are truly the languages through which my soul remembers what it already knows.

Down memory lane. Oh, how I loved classic rock growing up. This playlist stirs up cherished memories, a sense of innocence and curiosity, and the wild, adventurous spirit of those years.

a gentle life

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I want a slow, simple, peaceful life,
one that doesn’t ask me to live on edge,
one that doesn’t grind my bones to dust
just to pay the goddamn rent.

A life where enough is enough,
where healing is a calling
that feeds me too,
not just everyone else.

I want mornings that open softly,
light pouring in without alarms,
hands in fur and feathers,
the quiet language of animals
teaching me how to breathe again.

I don’t want castles.
I don’t want keys to forever.
I don’t even care about a home.
Just a place where love is close,
where the ones I need
are within reach of my voice.

Why is that so goddamn hard?
Why does something so small
feel near impossible,
like asking the world to stop spinning
for one gentle hour?

And still, inside this tired chest,
there lives a stubborn spark
that keeps whispering,
there has to be more than this,
there has to be a slower way to live.

So I hold that whisper
like a candle in the dark
and dream of a life
that doesn’t hurt to wake up to.

Photo by Toni Reed on Unsplash

Honor Rest & Renewal on Samhain

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Today, I pause. I breathe. I rest and honor my ancestors on this blessed Samhain.

I’m grateful to have the day off – to simply be. To sit in stillness and solitude without the weight of expectation feels like a blessing in itself. The veil is thin today, and I lean into the presence of those who came before me – my birth mother and father, and the lineage of ancestors whose names I may never know. I honor them, and I honor the mystery that connects us across time and space.

Lately, life has felt full and demanding. I’m working full-time again, and though I hoped summer break would bring the restoration I so deeply needed, fatigue seems to have returned too soon. Halfway through the fall semester, I find myself wondering how to sustain balance – how to counsel others, meet the demands of my current job while not forgetting myself.

My dream remains clear: To eventually transition into full-time sound therapy work. Supporting my adult daughter these past two years has delayed that shift, yet I hold faith that in time, things will align. When she finds her footing, I’ll be able to step more fully into the work my heart longs for, creating healing spaces through resonance, stillness, and sound.

Despite the challenges, I’m proud of the small steps forward. I’ve completed my website, OM Sacred Sound Journeys, a milestone that feels like planting a tiny seed. Beginning next February, I’ll offer bi-weekly sound therapy sessions, a sacred rhythm I hope will grow into something sustainable and nourishing. 

I’m reconnecting with my musical roots, singing and playing for a herd I once worked with in equine-assisted psychotherapy and slowly returning to my guitar after years away. These small acts of reconnection remind me that healing unfolds gradually, as does starting a private practice.

Self-employment feels both thrilling and terrifying. The freedom to follow my calling is overshadowed by the very real worries of bills, rent, health insurance, and all the practicalities of life. Yet amidst uncertainty, I sense that this path is where I’m meant to go.

So today, under the quiet light of Samhain, I choose rest. I choose reflection. I choose to listen deeply to the whispers of my ancestors, to the call of my own heart, and to stillness. May this season bring renewal, remembrance, and faith in what is yet to come.

Photo by Catherine Crawford on Unsplash

Lotus Summer

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Greetings! I’m enjoying the last few days of summer before I head back to work. Tomorrow. I must say, I look forward to Fall and the change of season. Mabon falls on September 22nd, which gives me something to look forward to. At the risk of sounding like a broken record, summer has been immensely restorative; I’ll refer to it as Lotus Summer. Lotus flowers are deeply symbolic in many cultures. Lotuses grow in murky, shallow waters. They rise from the mud without stain, and are therefore viewed as a symbol of purity. Because they return to the water in the evening and open their blooms at the break of day, lotuses represent strength, resilience, and rebirth, as well as transcendence: The lotus symbolizes the human spirit transcending over worldly matter since it blooms from the underworld into the light. I feel, in many ways, like the Lotus.

It’s been a summer of exploring themes around death and rebirth, cycles, beginnings and endings, blooming, rising up from the mud. When last semester ended, I was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. It dawned on me recently how little I accounted for the impact of divorce on my wellbeing. I was functioning on adrenaline those first several months of the divorce proceedings. And when it wore off, I plummeted. I’ve discovered that there’s much literature on the impact of divorce on individuals, how it affects their work lives, relationships, and emotional and physical health. I grossly underestimated my ability to manage work, the loss of my dog and support of my daughter, financial instability, three moves, starting over. I thought I was stronger, better, more capable, more confident. But I sank, and I’m usually a stronger swimmer than that.

It’s now late summer – Rebirth. I am standing, not sinking. The divorce no longer feels like a black hole. There are moments of deep sadness and grief. I’m not sure one ever gets over it completely. That’s just me. A friend of mine, a psychotherapist who divorced years ago, told me to expect a three-year-mucking-through-shit; my sound healing mentor, also divorced, said give it five. I rolled my eyes. How little did I know. It’s year two.

I read recently,

The lessons we learn along our journey and the pains that come along with them are but stages on the wheel of regeneration.

Death Doula Oracle – author & photographer – Theodore Saint & Chris Williams

Indeed. So much gratitude for the time off to recover, to regenerate. Solitude and rest were the medicine, and making the request to change my 12-month contract to academic year may have saved my life. I have spent everyday this summer writing and recently took to collaging my journals. Can’t wait to collage my next. Also into drawing dragons of late. Interestingly, I barely listened to any music; much more preferred silence. The only other time I could not bear to listen to music was after the death of my first dachshund, Peppermint. I’m slowly weaving my way back to some favorite artists and bands from the 80s – that era holds a certain nostalgia in my heart that’s quite comforting. And, I miss my younger self. I’ve shared a few moments of summer inspiration here.

And, on I go. Wishing you all a beautiful day. Stop and marvel at the tiny things that bring you joy and pleasure. May you tend to the soil of YOU!

-Photos above were taken at Laguna Beach, CA, by moi on a venture with a friend.

-Yummy matcha coffee & garden pics taken at Anima Mundi Apothecary in Venice, CA.

-My collaged journal-Summer theme: Death/rebirth/exploring the shadows within.

-Little dragon ouroboros drawing-not yet finished, but I’ll eventually get to it.

-Purchase the Death Doula Oracle cards here. They’re powerful cards for working with themes around transition, transformation, death, endings and are absolutely gorgeous.

Feature Photo by Kristijan Arsov on Unsplash

Soul Aligned

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Good day, one and all! I hope you’re enjoying the summer days. I’m grateful that the weather continues to be mild here. The pink and purple twilights are magical. What I love most about this summer break from university is the freedom in which I can move and breathe at my own pace. Ahhhh, slow, meditative mornings with my cup of coffee. Movies in the evenings. Solitude and ritual. It’s been rejuvenating.

I am in the process of building a sound therapy practice. Starting a new practice is quite scary. I had a private practice for two years, and I know how hard it is to grow a business and make it thrive. I’ve been a board-certified music therapist since 2009 and recently began training in sound therapy utilizing singing bowls and other resonant instruments, chanting, researching the science behind sound medicine. I facilitated some sound therapy groups last semester at the university as well as a number of small drum circles. 

My primary instrument is piano. I studied piano performance in undergrad then years later learned guitar and drumming while studying music therapy, a requirement to obtain certification. I sing, though it’s not my strong suit. I trained in group drum circle facilitation years ago, fell in love with the drum. I miss my piano and playing dearly. Music is clearly my medicine. Interestingly, I have listened to less music than ever before. Silence is like a balm.

The birth of a sound therapy practice is slow work. My hope is to help people along their spiritual and wellness journey, to enhance, to restore, to create an opening for self-discovery and increased spirituality. I’ll keep you posted on my progress.

Photo by petr sidorov on Unsplash

The Magick of Slowness

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Hey out there! Hope you’re having a swell summer. The temperature here is not yet sweltering, so I’m enjoying windows open daily. I’ve been on summer break just over a month – it has been glorious. There is a magick in this liminal space, the in-between semesters, that has brought healing and restoration. I am no longer who I was, yet I am not quite who I am to be. Last year was tough, maybe one of the toughest I’ve ever experienced, but it had its life lessons, and I am taking them to heart.

I’ve been savoring slow mornings, slowing down in general. It’s lovely to leisurely sip my morning coffee without rushing. I have not missed disconnecting from others one bit. Journaling, personal study, spirituality have all been life saving. But mostly the magick of slowing down, sweet silence, the echo of presence, noticing each breath have led to divine surrender, wisdom, and liberation. 

Summer break will come to an end, and I will return to work mid-August. The test of wisdom will come in finding divine balance, countering stress and the pace of work with a solid inner spiritual foundation, finding the power within to face each and every challenge. There is this – I have the rest of the month to indulge in solitude and cultivate my inner divine badass.

The video below is of female French trio, Les Itinérantes. I adore them and recently discovered their music. I find this song, Sahèl, to be quite powerful.

“Sahèl” is a composition in Eldali (a language invented by Elodie, one of the vocalists) that invites you to reconnect with “the source,” to rediscover meaning and roots through a connection with the living, the pursuit of authenticity, and the recollection of ancient memories.

“Sahèl anouvel iè,
Vènia assoulèkh na
Sahèl anoukrie biè,
Chakh liè bioun èlia”

The source is calling for you over there
Approach, let yourself be guided
The source roars below
Join its flow if you dare.

a little creek

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there’s a mossy little creek

where i like to sit and think

a shallow slope to mull and dream,

where glossy water babbles midstream

i skip barefoot ‘cross the river stones

earth and fire in my bones,

behold the current gently flow,

carrying my dreams safely home

Photo by Maddox Howe on Unsplash

in perfect rhapsody

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for miles and miles
nothing but blue,
my glassy reflection
cast by the fair moon

let me swim your depths
befriend the whales,
ride the stoic waves
and set to sail

as though i had wings
spun of golden light,
and all in the world
seems more than alright

there’d be no more sorrow,
save delight,
warmed by a canopy
of falling stars, a scattered night

sing with me world,
sing of ocean’s majesty
united together
in perfect rhapsody

Hymn by Karl Jenkins, sung by a female chorus and from the album Adiemus-Songs of Sanctuary. The whole album is absolutely beautiful. I thought this piece caught the spirit of this poem. It takes you to a whole different world. Enjoy.

Photo by guille pozzi on Unsplash