 There is a quiet impulse that lives within you. A pull toward something. To write. To make. To imagine. To bring something into form that did not exist before.
So often, we dismiss it. We tell ourselves it’s not important. Not productive. Not even necessary. But what if that desire is not random? What if it is sacred?
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 Many of us have spent decades navigating the demands of work, family, and societal expectations. For many women, modern society offers comfort and convenience but often leaves little space for emotional processing, spiritual connection, or collective healing.
Across the world, a quiet but powerful shift is unfolding. More women are turning away from purely modern approaches to wellness and rediscovering ancient healing practices that once formed the backbone of spiritual and emotional health in many cultures. This search for meaning is leading a growing community of women back to the roots of our shared human experience. We are rediscovering the profound comfort and empowerment found in ancient healing practices. By turning to the wisdom of those who came before us, we find tools to navigate life's complex transitions with grace. This movement is not simply about nostalgia or spirituality trends. It reflects a deeper longing — a desire to reconnect with intuition, ancestry, nature, and the sacred rhythms of life. Let’s face it, modern healthcare and psychological systems offer valuable tools. However, many people feel that these systems focus primarily on symptoms rather than deeper emotional or spiritual roots. Ancient traditions often approach healing holistically. They acknowledge that mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual dimensions are interconnected. Practices such as meditation, ritual, and energy work encourage individuals to participate actively in their healing rather than relying solely on external solutions.  Winter feels like a long, quiet pause. The days are short, the nights are long, and the earth sleeps beneath a blanket of frost. While nature rests, our internal worlds often wake up. This season naturally pulls us inward, asking us to reflect on who we are and who we are becoming. It is a potent time for transformation, but navigating the dark months can sometimes feel lonely or confusing.
This is where the ancient practice of working with spirit animals can offer a lantern in the dark. Animals have always been our teachers. They survive and thrive by listening to their instincts and adapting to the seasons. By tuning into their energy, we can borrow their courage and wisdom to navigate our own mid-winter shifts. Whether you are an experienced practitioner or just curious about spiritual growth, connecting with animal guides can deepen your self-reflection practices. It pairs beautifully with journaling, meditation, and intention setting—trends that many of us are already exploring to find more meaning in our daily lives. Let’s explore how the natural world can guide your internal transformation this winter.  Let me ask you something personal:
Have you ever walked into the woods, heard the wind rustle through the trees, and felt like something bigger than you was paying attention? Or maybe you’ve caught a glimpse of an animal, a feather, a shadow — and just knew it was a message, not a coincidence. That feeling? That’s not your imagination. That’s the echo of something ancient waking up in you. In shamanic traditions around the world, there’s a foundational truth that guides how we see and relate to the world: All life is interconnected. Not as a metaphor. As a living, breathing reality. And when you start living from that truth — not just understanding it with your mind, but embodying it with your spirit — your entire relationship with life shifts. You move from isolation to connection. From control to reverence. From burnout to belonging. Let’s explore what that really means. Throughout my journey as a healer, I have learned that wisdom is always present—whispering through the wind, woven into dreams, and reflected in the synchronicities of daily life. If you’ve ever felt a sudden knowing, an unseen force nudging you toward a decision, or a deep sense of comfort in difficult times, you may have already encountered your spirit guides. These sacred allies walk with us, offering clarity, guidance, and reminders of our soul’s purpose.
Who Are Spirit Guides? Spirit guides are energetic beings dedicated to supporting your spiritual journey. In shamanic traditions, they often appear as ancestors, wise teachers, power animals, or elemental forces such as water, fire, or air. They do not dictate your path but illuminate the way, helping you reconnect with your inner wisdom and navigate life with greater awareness. As I deepened my practice, I realized that these guides were always with me—waiting for me to listen, to trust, and to step into a relationship with them. Their presence is subtle yet powerful, a bridge between the seen and unseen worlds, helping us awaken to the truth already within us.  Life is full of complexities, moments of uncertainty, and questions that don’t always have immediate answers. For centuries, people have turned to tarot as a way to decode life's mysteries and understand themselves better. Learning to read tarot cards is more than just a hobby—it's a path toward personal empowerment, deep intuition, and spiritual connection. Whether you're curious about starting your tarot practice or seeking tools for guidance, the benefits of this ancient art are profound.
I still remember the first time I learned tarot over twenty years ago—it was a mix of nerves and excitement. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to read the cards properly, but I was deeply intrigued by the insights they might reveal. My journey began with weekly classes led by a local tarot expert and published author. She was a seasoned professional, and I was just a beginner. To say it was intimidating would be an understatement. But I quickly realized something remarkable: the cards do most of the work. When you approach tarot the right way, it becomes surprisingly accessible. Within a few weeks, the process started to feel natural, opening my mind to so much more than I expected (some of which I’ll share below). A few years later, I found myself teaching tarot to friends, family, and anyone curious enough to learn. Along the way, I’ve discovered countless benefits to reading tarot, and I’m excited to share those insights with you. Let's dive in.
 We all have days when we feel like the walls are closing in and our lives are overwhelmed with heavy burdens. Life can feel like a relentless battle, throwing us into situations that make us question everything about ourselves. Yesterday was one of those days for me!
Early on things looked impossible, then a joyful piece of news from people I love came in and OMGoddess, did that wake me up and turn things around! The connection and remembrance that none of us are alone in life switched things from bad to amazing. My heart opened so wide being able to share in someone else's joy and their beaming smile.  Warning: Personal Share coming!
It’s 4 am and I sit in a hotel room in the suburbs of Chicago. My father died on Wednesday as I was boarding a plane to come to his bedside. I came anyway. I met Joey at O’Hare Airport in the cold December rain. When I most needed it, Spirit sent a kind, loving stranger. We were waiting for rides to pick us up at Vestibule 1E. He was having a smoke. There was something about him that drew me in. I asked if he had another one of those and he did. He helped me light the cigarette and made sure I knew where to tell my sister to pick me up. Joey opened his arms and offered a hug when I told him my father had just passed away. We talked about our fathers and families. We shared pictures. He was going to visit his father’s grave and his still living 95-year-old grandma. We talked about loving all people and all things. How the world needs more love. We talked about the places we loved to travel. We talked about growing up in Illinois and life in Colorado, returning home and what that felt like. He shared his dream of building a healthy natural human-grade dog food company and saving dogs. He told me he found sales easy, and I saw that, with his warmth, he was a natural at it. He shared the story of watching his friend fall to his death right after he told Joey it was the happiest moment of his life. He shared with me the debilitating anxiety he’s felt ever since. He was kind and hugged me again before he left blowing me kisses from the passenger seat of his friend’s car as he drove away. I like Joey. Joey gives me hope for humanity. Waking to the memory of the kindness of a stranger brings me around to thoughts about my dad’s passing. Just like that he’s gone. No physical trace left behind. All that remains are the good deeds he did. The memories of him in the minds of those who knew him. No possessions or things. It really brings home to me the foolishness of amassing things. It really brings home to me the importance of doing good work and being a part of a community. What matters is building a legacy that will last beyond your physical presence. It isn’t about houses, cars, or collectibles. It isn’t about the style or expense of the clothes your family or friends will likely donate once you leave. It’s about how you treat people, the lives you impact. It’s about who will remember you when you are gone and how they will remember you. Now that my sisters and I cleaned out dad’s room at the assisted living center where he took his last breath, I keep going back to “all that is left are the memories he made with others.” The impressions he left with his grandchildren. The laughter, gentleness, the kindness he expressed. Sure, some will remember his struggles, the hardships he faced, and the ways he was less than kind. But the memories most will talk about are the ways he touched them positively. I remember my dad as a difficult man. When I was growing up, he was angry and mean. He was prejudiced and small minded. He was the first emotionally unavailable man in my life—sadly, he wasn’t the last. I was afraid of him. I didn’t stick around long enough to know the elder version of him, the grandfather. The man my sisters and brothers let into their children’s lives seems a softer, gentler, kinder version of the man I grew up with. I’m happy for that. My kids didn’t know him. He once threatened to hit my two-year-old son and that was the end for me. Obviously, I’m conflicted. Even with that conflict, I can find love in my heart for the man who taught me a lot, gave me my name, provided for my physical needs as a child, and who gave me my blue eyes. Even in my conflict, it’s the positive impact he had on me that comes to the forefront. I honor the good in him as I mourn. This lesson lands at a time when I am struggling to end a nasty divorce, when I lost my home and most of my possessions. Saying goodbye to them wasn’t easy, it felt like I had been robbed. Now I feel different. The loss of things and a lifestyle really don’t matter. I have enough. I am warm, nourished, healthy, and I choose to focus on how I can be a better human in this world. How I can positively impact those around me and those to come. I am listening to a book about the longtermist perspective and find it makes more sense today than ever (What We Owe the Future by William MacAskill). I’d like to leave this world empty-handed, having given away what I had worked for. I’d also like to leave this world full-hearted, perhaps like Joey’s friend feeling that it’s the happiest moment of my life. I’d like to leave this world with lots and lots of people sharing wonderful stories of the positive impact I had on them. I choose to show up every day with kindness, love, humility, helping others where I can. Rising above my own hurts and being there for others. I’d like to think I’ve been doing that along the way. I know I can do better. My rituals tend to be practical full body experiences. I gravitate more toward embodying intention than acting it out. In my life, it’s sometimes not practical to light candles and put on special clothes to dance around a room chanting. In fact those things can sometimes feel foolish. I know that for me it’s a show, an act, not my style.
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