Today brought good news for me as a writer, and reflections on being a healer, pregnancy, slow living, fear, and imposter syndrome. Let’s honor these small victories and embrace our journey with gratitude and courage. It’s a long one at nearly 2,700 words so dive into the journey with me, and maybe you’ll find yourself reflected in this blog, too.

A wonderful Wednesday, infused with a potent energy of creative success and fragments of signs from Source as a nod that you are going in the right direction.

This morning I woke up to the wonderful news that a beautiful magazine wishes to publish one of my articles in a summer edition of their catalogue. It was an article I birthed out as I was heavily pregnant and at the peak of my Kundalini Awakening with life bursting inside of me and, funnily enough, the focus was slow living. This air of importance surrounding these two words and living a life aligned with that mentality and mindfulness is not for nothing – it seems as if it was just a clue for things to come, a hint at where living intentionally and writing about it can lead you. I have to practice what I once practiced – pre-baby – with ease, so that I am living what I preach. Slow Living re-awakens today. Slow living takes the precedent. Like living waters, I drink this moment up and let it sustain all my days, moving forward. Gratitude, gratitude, gratitude.

My soul sister has also returned with a thorough and honest edit on my children’s picture book manuscript which I am reading through over and over and digesting so I can properly alter this little piece I’ve put together in a way that takes all her considerations – especially as a mom of two (who she read the story to) – and helps it bloom with my essence in the veins of it. Since she gifted me a beautiful selenite plate with the Flower of Life carved into it for my birthday, today I pull from the Flower of Life oracle as I tune into the guidance of the Universe for my writing path. I got Now.

In all honesty, this deck is an odd one, and I don’t recommend it. If you’re reading this and you’ve always wanted a tarot or oracle deck and are unsure where to start (it can be overwhelming!) I am the person to help suggest the best deck for you! I will use your interests and your needs – and the simplicity level you require – to narrow down the best deck for you.

My husband has remarked that my intentional meal-planning and the food that I am, in particular, being drawn to making, has transformed his energy levels and has made him feel healthier. It is true that in planning my grocery lists, I am far more conscious of what I am making and am choosing fresh menus. I am not approaching each evening thinking, what am I going to make? Then, in my moment of frustration, I end up throwing something premade in the oven. Less processed foods has lead to us both having an increase in energy. Let food be thy medicine (that’s Cicero, right?) is no lie; if slow living is something I wish to embody, food will certainly be the right fuel for the venture. Once again, I hope I can stick to the path when I am alone – it’s a lot harder to remember to eat when a mother is flying solo. I am sure many of you awakened mamas reading can relate to this.

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I was reading a book by George Kao (whom I’ve mentioned before, as he is brilliant) and it said, “When I am well-rested, feeling loved, and connected to my higher self, I realize that what I really want isn’t financial freedom… What I yearn for is the feeling of being truly useful to others, experiencing my strengths in service of uplifting humanity, and feeling that the money I earn is honest and noble. Yet when I feel tired, or fearful, or discouraged, then the hype of financial freedom can tempt me again.” I loved this quote so it needed a space in this blog. It really helps to emphasize what I have been saying to you for a few days, now: when we prioritize ourselves, we become so much better for the entire world. It actually aligns with a reel I have sitting in my drafts that I haven’t posted yet because I am so much more drawn to sharing in this space than on Instagram right now. Maybe it’s a sign to just share it.

George Kao also wrote this, which again, aligns with my commentary on Instagram as of late: “Instead of “how can we get more attention”, let’s think in terms of “how can we show that we care”?” Are the accounts you are following caring about you and your journey? Are they helping you learn and grow? Are they aiming to drive you down a path of betterment or do they cause you feelings of comparison, guilt, or FOMO? Are they just trying to get you to buy the next thing with their affiliate link? Are they driven by likes, follows, and going viral, or are they driven by inspiring and making change? Do they care about you? Ask yourself honestly and truly.

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Every time I am about to begin a session for a client, I go through the same humbling thought: I don’t think I can do this. It’s weird, though, to always go back to that. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve gone through a mediumship session, as I’m lighting the incense, setting the space, going into myself, I think about the fact that maybe today my gifts won’t work. I really don’t know why. I have complete and total trust in the Universe and maybe it is just a total release of ego that is necessary to really be a conduit for Source before I do my session.

Because then, I settle, and it comes. Like a radio line that is switched on. And there is always someone on the other end talking, talking, talking, just wanting me to focus and let the fingers do the work for them, just eager to get the message through to my client – another stranger somewhere on the planet who heard about me from a happy customer and decided to trust me with their time, energy, and well-earned money. An honour, truly, each and every time. And an endless wonder on why God made me a telephone line and why this stranger decided to pick it up.

Today it was a Celestial Genesis: Spirit Baby Reading and I always love working with these little souls – and am so glad I added it to my repertoire of mediumship work – because the purity of their hearts and their excitement to connect with their future parent is like honey, melting all over me. I leave every single spirit baby reading session in the most beautiful and uplifted mood and it’s quickly become one of my favourites. When I do a Portal of the Womb Lightcode Activation, I feel like I’m intruding on a secret magical conversation between a client and their star team, where I am now privy to soul-information that doesn’t belong to me.

But, as with all my services, I actually release and completely forget them after I’m done. I never re-read them, and I barely have recollections of them. Sometimes clients return to me with: remember in the reading you did for me last month when you said… it totally happened/was true!!! And, quite honestly, no, I can’t remember (lol). I’m just a phone line, after all. I’m not an archive. I don’t store anything that belongs to you. All the same, after every session, I genuinely am brought back into the deep acknowledgment and gratitude to the Universe for sending me on a healer’s path and for making me of compassionate service to others. What a blessing.

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Today I was thinking about when I get pregnant again – because it’s not an if, it’s a when. I do intend to have more children and I know there are more children awaiting aether-side to join me earthbound. I was thinking about this blog, in particular. When I was pregnant with R, I was endlessly writing. In fact, along with birthing my book, The Transformational Path, I also wrote in my creative scrapbook journal every single day. I wrote to R, I wrote for myself, I wrote about my experience through pregnancy (which was powerful and beautiful). However, I never shared my pregnancy journey on social media. Most people did not find out that I had been pregnant at all until I gave birth and announced the birth through my blog.

As I wrote in that blog, I didn’t want other people to be a part of this sacred journey. So little in our lives are personal and secret thanks to – the blessing and curse that is – social media. We have to share so much of ourselves – or choose to do so – on a daily basis. With strangers, with people we knew in passing in our youth, with former mates from elementary school who you haven’t seen since 2006… I did not want other people outside of my family unit and closest family and friends to consume my pregnancy like content. My pregnancy was not a product.

Pregnancy, and the subsequent birth of the mother through the growth of a child, is a profoundly sacred and transformational experience. It is holy. It is the creation of life in the temple that is the womb. It is, without hesitation, a complete and utter miracle – to form an entire human inside of us. Miraculous! We are living examples of Gaia. We are the goddesses of our ancestral line. We are change-makers through life-giving. It’s insanity, so difficult to wrap your head around, but complete and utter magic. And I didn’t want people to have a view, say, or witness to the sacredness of that path I was walking with my son inside me.

When I do restart the path and begin again, growing life inside of me, there will be no mention of it in this space. I already know that the presence of this new spirit will bring on another Kundalini Awakening and spiritually creative outburst in me that will have me hyper-tuned-in and ready to dedicate myself to the second non-fiction book that’s already begun to emerge. It’s a fully-channelled text that apparently I have written in lifetimes before this one. So, I know I will dedicate myself to that as essential to my journey and I have already planned that I will compile a “pregnancy thoughts” blog post that I will launch when the transition is complete and my new face as mother of two has risen.

Of course, how you choose to share your journey and your path through pregnancy is your right and I value your decision for you. I am merely sharing my thoughts towards the process, and it never resonated with my spirit to share it with the world.

In other motherhood news, my son has started saying, “NooooOooo…” in my very specific intonation right before he is about to do something he should not be doing. He says it, turns to look at me, and then sloooowwwwlllyyy moves himself forward to do the “naughty” thing. The strength at which this makes me laugh must be hidden every time. It’s brilliant; him calling himself out before he does a brat move. The innocence of babes. It’s amazing to me.

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About a week ago, I made the declaration on Instagram that I would finally write in this Hemingway notebook:

I didn’t. I failed at that goal. And while this may seem insignificant and unimportant, there is more to unravel here: and the more can tie into so many different aspects of our individual lives.

I have had this journal since 2019. In case you didn’t know, Ernest Hemingway is my favourite author. I’m not sure why I am so taken by him (I mean, obviously he is talented); pictures of him are all around my house. My husband promised me we would work out on my last day in Paris before we went long-distance at the Hemingway Bar. He then proposed to me there, a year later. On the day I was set up on a blind date with my husband, I tore a Hemingway poster off a pole in Paris to keep for myself (it’s in my living room, framed). The date on the poster? The same date when we said I love you to one another. Hemingway is not only the author I love and adore but he’s been ever present, like a spirit guide, in some of the most special moments of my life. He’s the reason I moved to Paris in the first place – I wanted to be just like him (I mean, minus the bullfighting, womanizing, and alcoholism).

I got this journal shortly after we had moved back to Paris from Strasbourg. It’s the most amazing journal I own. It’s THE ERNEST HEMINGWAY NOTEBOOK, and it’s packed with quotes by him about writing and photos of him throughout. And I haven’t written in it for nearly five years. Why?

I’m afraid.

Truthfully, I’m afraid.

This journal, to me, is perfection. It is so beautiful, so inspiring, and the embodiment of my writing dreams in a little blue-bound packet and I’m terrified to taint it. I’m terrified to ruin the pages with my horrible handwriting, I’m terrified to write something meaningless on the pages, I’m terrified to sully the beauty of it. I once read a book (which I’ve now forgotten) that said we need to stop collecting journals and to just take the first step to write in it. I did that, sort of, with this notebook because I wrote my name on the first page. That’s the extent of the ink that’s touched it’s pages. Why do I keep waiting for good enough when imposter’s syndrome tells me I’ll never find it? Why am I being so foolish?

Really, how applicable is this to so much of life? How applicable is this to so much of motherhood? How often do we doubt our capabilities and avoid the leap? How often do we hold back for something better – whether it’s a more ideal time, place, more money in the bank, more ideas in the mind-bank, to be more emotionally ready for something, etc., etc..

Why do I feel so much more comfortable typing authentically, openly, honestly, and without hesitation onto this website than in that notebook? Because I have the safety of pressing backspace and erasing when I hate something or feel it doesn’t fit? LIFE doesn’t have a backspace, but it definitely has a regrets button. How often do we find ourselves pressing that button when we failed to take the leap and just do it? I know I have.

There will never be a right time or a perfect word for this journal. And whatever continues to hold me back from writing in it is not for the betterment of my Higher Self and my growth as a writer. It’s time for me to just bite the bullet and ink the pages. It’s time for me to honour Hemingway – and his notebook – in the very best way I can: by just writing, god dammit!

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Did anyone listen to Merril Bainbridge when they were young? I’m sure you know her song Mouth if you are around my age (36). Whatever happened to her poetic magistery? It came out in 1995, so I was seven years old and I absolutely ate up this album. I knew all the words by heart because I listened to it on an obsessive repeat.

When I think back now to the lyrics, they’re really quite spiritual in nature. Even the photo of her on the cover evokes a nature goddess, halo and all. Maybe listening along to these lyrics reminded me a little of home and my greater purpose in the grand scheme of life. I may not have consciously been aware, but perhaps my spirit was.

It’s quite odd that memories of her and her music began to arise in my spirit yesterday, when I was singing her songs around the house; she’s Australian, and the magazine that has offered to publish my article is, as well. There are no coincidences in life, only synchronicities and signs from the Universe.

Alright, time to take on the day. Today I had a taste of what it’s like to lose a writing session and feel rushed and stressed thanks to R who is refusing to nap. It turned me into a very angry person (never towards my son, I can switch that off when I enter his room) but it heavily impacted me and my spirit and I’m going to have to learn what to do about that and how to deal with it – because it will definitely happen when I’m alone with him. I’ll have to dive into myself and meditate on this because it didn’t feel good at all, and it’s consuming me just writing about it. It was like I lost a piece of myself and my freedom in the situation. How do I navigate that? I must learn.

May it be slow and healing and beautiful day for all of you.

xx C

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Ignore this (but clearly it’s the elixar of life, COFFEE – I’m a mom, after all):