After a “mama” moment in the depths of the night, I took a washroom pitstop to grab some kleenex to bring back to my bedroom. What otherwise felt like an exhausting addition to the interruption in my sleep turned out to be a really introspective moment. I looked out my window, and there, right there, bright as bright can be, was the constellation Orion. Within Orion’s belt lie three bright stars – and one star is missing: Mintaka. My home.

I am a Starseed from Mintaka. I often found it difficult to relate to the idea of being a Starseed because I find them to be a very particular set of people. But Mintakans are different; my people are different. And looking out the window and seeing my reminder of this – when I was exhausted and questioning the Universe: will there ever be an end to this sleep regression? – I paused, took a deep breath of gratitude, and was reminded of my mission of healing, my mission of love, and the expansion of love that reverberates out to the planet from which my son was a catalyst. This is part and parcel of motherhood and part and parcel of my mission.

It is quite impressionable how close to the stars I feel on this part of the world, in this home. I don’t go out at night because of baby (obviously); in the summer, the sun sets by the time I head to bed and in winter I’m far too cold to step outside. And so I miss this symphony in the sky. My husband sees it every night when he walks the dog and the skies are clear, but I miss the magic. And it’s right there out my window: the window I look out of and dream out of every morning – but don’t take the time to appreciate every night. But there was Orion, like a friendly hello, a friendly grounding element – despite being so far up above – that brought me back into my small self and reminded me of my purpose. Right when I needed it most.

---

I have taken to starting my writings in the morning before my shower because R has been boycotting his naps, lately. But it doesn’t feel the same. When I can hear him downstairs with my husband, I feel rushed – I feel on the clock – which is odd because I know his naps are short, and yet I don’t feel that when I write during his naps. Perhaps due to the silence I fall into myself and go into my writer’s space, my bubble of me while I let the flow release from my fingertips. But in the morning, where I feel almost selfish for not being present with my family when I could be, where I feel I am missing out on moments that require me, the writing seems to achieve only half of what it is capable of. But: with the goal to write every day, and knowing my exhaustion by the evening, I am trying to take advantage of every opportunity.

I am in my meditative state as I scribe this, but no more words emerge. I am feeling centered, calm, and complete, but no more writing comes. Perhaps, for now, this is where I stop – knowing the calls for me are downstairs, and that I should selflessly move it. I do feel a full-body euphoric sense of fulfillment, so maybe I was wrong – maybe it’s not when I write, it’s just the act of writing that does what it is meant to do. I have no sense of language at the moment, there is no way to describe how peaceful this feels. I feel entirely connected with my self and yet completely separate, outside of me, like a visitor looking in, observing, loving from afar. I feel really, really wonderful. I feel tired and invigorated at the same time. I have never done drugs so I don’t know (and have no interest in knowing – happy people do not need drugs, in my opinion) what that is like, but this, right now, has given me a full sense of bliss.

I am floating in bliss. I hope this ripples through the entire day. It is so beautiful, it is so transformative, it is so whole. I feel so whole. I can practically feel the energetic lines I have with my family downstairs, I can practically visualize them sliding down, down, down, connecting to the heart-centers of my husband and my son. I can feel us nourishing each other. I feel this blissing being shared with them. I feel tingling in my feet and my fingers. I can feel this energy extending out of my Crown and into the Universe. It is beyond magic, I hope you can feel it as you read this.

I was wrong. It’s not when I write – it’s just writing. I feel whole. I feel whole. I feel so whole. My gratitude for this feeling makes me want to cry tears of joy. I know my boys can feel it downstairs. I can feel that too. Let it feed them for the day, for the weekend, for the week. Let them be nourished off of this bliss. I want to share it with the world.

---

Perhaps my energetic alignment provided me with a boost of motivation, or maybe it was just the glorious weather, but I initiated a family walk, this morning. It was fourteen degrees at 9h with a glorious – and killer – sunshine and it felt silly not to take advantage of it. It’s February 3rd; when will we have such weather on such a date again? Who truly knows.

Anyway, I surprised myself with this walk; I enjoyed it. I took the advice of others and I found more joy in the mundane of aimless walking. On the way back home, I regretted not walking to the boulangerie instead and even felt willing to walk more. I indulged in the joys that R found, I made honest conversation about nature and walking with my husband, I spoke about and entertained the idea of starting geocaching, I watched my spirit birds (crows/ravens) carrying nuts across the fields, I saw beauty in places i otherwise would have missed.

On the way back to our street, I asked to walk by a certain house. House 105. It’s the house I can see out my bathroom window – the same window where I spotted Orion, last night. Every morning, I look at this house, I observe it under changing skies, I look at how the rain hits it, how the sun bounces off of it. I keep watch for the days when the chickens are roaming outside their shelter and the mornings when they’d rather stay warm and hidden. I look at which windows are open and wonder who is sleeping behind those that remain closed. I look for signs of drying laundry on the balcony, and where birds choose to perch. I stare at this house because there is something about it that I absolutely adore.

And when I look at it every morning as I shower, I create the same story – the same vision – in my head; a vision where this home becomes our home. A vision of more chickens in the back coop, paired with a little goat, perhaps. A vision of my kid(s) sliding down the hill in the winter, and Poe running around like a mad-pups, all day long, on all his land. A vision where I turn the sunroom in the backyard into my reading room, with shelves lining the brick. A vision where I am opening the wooden windows to let the light in, where I am hanging blankets to dry over the balcony, where my car is parked in the front driveway.

I even visualize how we get this home. There is an old lady living in there – she seems to be alone. I do not visualize her passing and us getting the home under those circumstances. I visualized myself walking by, holding R’s hand, while I am pregnant. I visualize pointing to the home, to the backyard, and just talking about it, positively, happy, having him take note in all the charm of the home, the chickens in the back, the potential of the land. And the woman who lives in the house is outside and hears us. She speaks to me and says she is on the edge of letting this home go; it’s too much work for her, now. She has no children to pass it on to. She just hasn’t trusted listing it, yet.

I tell her how I have looked at and dreamt of this home for that window, right there (I point to it), every morning. I tell her about how something about it calls me, and I don’t know why; to feel called to a house without ever stepping foot in it, I don’t understand it. At this point she says, “Well, why don’t you come visit it? Let me show you my home!” and she invites us in.

And it’s everything I hoped it would be; tremendously old – but alive – and completely, meticulously cared for. No work needed, but not a style that would appeal to young couples should it ever be up for sale. But it appeals to me. It feels like a home. Tiled floors downstairs and wooden floors above. History in every detail, but no wear and tear like one would imagine. Built in bookshelves everywhere and an old country kitchen that looks into the back garden, at the chickens roaming in their safe, fenced farmed area. I tell her how perfect it is, how it is a dream – and suddenly, she tells me something about me feels right and, if I am interested, perhaps we could negotiate a private sale between us and some professionals. And it takes little negotiation because she doesn’t want much more than a beautiful family taking over her home. And even much of her furniture becomes a part of this deal. And then it is our home.

I think about this, every day.
House 105.
“105 is a sign from the angels that you are capable of achieving your dreams and goals if you put in the hard work, focus on positive thoughts, and take action. When you actively manifest what you want, you will attract the same frequency of energy back to you. Take time to explore what it is using the wisdom you’ve obtained through life experiences and then set attainable goals. Visualize yourself succeeding and use your inner strength to take steps to make these goals a reality.”

---

Lately, I have been thinking about a former friend of mine. This friend disconnected our form of communication and vanished without explanation. They did not reach out to explain their choice (to delete our communication platform), they did not severe the energetic connection we shared by providing clarification for their decision – they just ghosted me. And we used to talk every day. They disposed of me through this resolution, despite speaking with me as though our connection was indispensable and having benefited through our friendship by energetically growing immensely (specifically gaining the clarity and strength to separate themselves from a family unit that was hindering their Ascension and to gain the courage to explore outside of the bubble this unit built around them, and learning more about their spiritual selves through the process of this exploration).

I believe that setting boundaries, especially with individuals who you feel are no longer contributing to your betterment and growth, is not only important but it is necessary. But — and this is a big BUT — I believe that there are severe energetic consequences when it is done through ghosting (the complete withdrawal from the relationship without elucidation). In certain spiritual practices, some people believe in the importance of closure to properly sever these energetic connections, and from a personal growth perspective, there is the importance of facing difficult situations and learning from them. Ghosting is a missed opportunity for growth and understanding (both for the person doing the ghosting and the one being ghosted). And let’s not forget the lasting karmic consequences of ghosting.

While I do not miss or long for relationships with people who find me disposable (that would be a waste of my energy – and I have learned what a waste this is decades ago), I do wonder what caused it? What brought it on? Why ghosting was the avenue they decided to traverse and why I couldn’t be granted a reason? And why someone who was so certain on their spiritual steadiness, their place as Ascended and more wise (above other humans – this is not a feeling we shared), and their karmic clarity would choose ghosting? It all doesn’t make sense to me from an objective – and not emotionally invested subjective – perspective, and feels dark. A little voice in an ear that was from ego, not Source.

Not something I ever expected from them, honestly. I don’t get it. And I’m not sure why I have been pondering why I don’t get it, as of late (maybe they are also thinking of me so energetic lines are crossed).

---

I think today’s blog is absolute proof on how Aligned, in-tune, and powerful that morning feeling was. I could keep going, I can feel it in my bones. I could go on another walk. I could adventure. I have so much gas in me, today, and it’s unexplainable; beyond my comprehension that it stems from that meditative writing session which began my day, and the subsequent clearing of the shower that followed. It truly set up a foundation for a feeling of success, today.

I feel driven, invigorated, and ready to take on the day – every minute of it. I feel so much joy, so much passion for life, and I hope my family feeds off it, too. I feel inspired and I want to invest it into that bedroom project I described the other day. I feel motivated beyond measure and I want to invest it all into a creative exploration of myself, my learning, my spiritual and creative growth, me, me, me – because it will all benefit my family. It is all for my family, in the end. My soul team, my forever – those who do not find me disposable but essential. My essentials.

Maybe this post has invigorated you. Maybe it has triggered your visions, goals, and dreams – what projects lie at the center of your creative self (located in your Sacral Chakra, by the way, in order to emphasize how we birth creative ideas). Has this Awoken something in you, today? Or are you energetically feeling the Imbolc drive of growth, as well? Is it a Universal thing? Is it planetary?

I ask so many questions; I need to just slow and enjoy this. Fully and completely.

xx C