What a privilege it is to have something to lose.

I’ve been sitting with that perspective a lot lately, as I’ve had to navigate what feels like every fear I’ve ever had surfaces to shore in giant, crashing waves.

So much of my life has been spent worrying—my bills, my health, my family’s well-being, the world. It became a burden to care. I was already exhausted.

I’ve become familiar with a very specific kind of grief. Not the what if one day this happens kind. Not the sudden kind, either.

It’s the one right in between. The this could get really bad kind. The which direction is this about to go kind. The one with no certainty either way—just a steady stream of unwelcome reminders that control was never truly in my hands. Not when it came to the things that actually scared me.

Throughout my life, I’ve been continuously asked to do one of the hardest things I’ve had to learn how to do: let go, and trust that I’ll be able to handle whatever comes next.

I’ve had to let go of a lot in my life. I had to let go of the idea of being “normal,” of trying to fit in, of trying to figure out why I saw the world differently than the people around me and what that meant.

I’ve had to let go of the church, of what I thought to be God, of my connection to anything beyond me, because for a long time it felt like there wasn’t anything or anyone in my corner.

I’ve had to let go of protecting people who enjoyed their own suffering, relinquishing the misdirected role of the savior for people who didn’t want better for themselves.

I’ve had to let go of friends who turned out to not really be friends, careers that I thought were my dream come true, and lovers who were never meant to stay.

I’ve had to let go of my family who were thousands of miles away, in a country I never got to truly know but is embedded in my bones, and trust that we’ll get to spend more time together someday—even though she’s constantly under attack.

I’ve had to let go of who I thought I was, who I thought I was supposed to be, who I thought people expected me to be, to figure out who I actually am.

So much of my life felt like letting go, and anytime I thought I’d found some solid ground to exhale, something else happens, and I’m back in it.

The Pattern app actually called this out. It labeled it Accepting or Anxious:

At your best, you’re flexible about change. You can be willing to let go of creature comforts and deal with chaos or even extreme, illogical circumstances. It’s like you’re able to accept that everything doesn’t always have to feel good or be pleasurable.

Alternatively, when you’re struggling, you feel unable to get satisfaction in life - it’s like you can’t truly relax or enjoy yourself. When you try to take it easy, something often disrupts you. You may not feel safe or secure, financially or otherwise.

It could be hard to cope with everyday life.

The accuracy was both perplexing and liberating. It’s part of the reason why I love astrology and do the work that I do. Reading something like that made me feel like perhaps there’s a method to the madness.

That maybe I’m not just cursed or have bad luck or am bad at doing life. Maybe this is on purpose, something I’m meant to learn from and grow through.

At least, that’s what I would tell myself. The alchemist always turns pain into purpose, but there’s still the part of actually feeling it all, and that can get heavy.

For a long time, I handled the chaos by always bracing for it. Expecting it. Maybe even unconsciously choosing it. It felt safer, oddly enough.

When you’ve been knocked down enough times, hope can start to feel dangerous. You tell yourself that assuming the worst will at least prepare you. That it’s practical. Even protective.

That’s a lie.

All you’re actually doing is grieving in advance—and it doesn’t make the real grief hurt any less. It just steals life from right under your nose.

That is the trick of the past. It fears being forgotten, so it pulls at your strings for as long as you let it.

What I’ve come to understand is that this in-between grief is what arrives when you’re fully present inside a difficult situation. There’s no certainty in sight. Just an empty canvas, waiting to see what picture you’ll create to fill the space.

Sometimes we paint something completely different from what we see. Most times, we paint what we already know.

I’ve had to reckon with all of this—and what also feels like an onslaught of ancestral wounds—alongside everything happening in Lebanon right now.

My father’s safety is the first and last thing I think about. Each day, I pray and hope that he is alive, that the last time I saw him won’t be the last time, and that God is going to show me just how powerful faith truly is.

I’ve often said that my heart isn’t breaking down, it’s breaking open, and just when I think there couldn’t possibly be any more walls standing, something happens that invites me to crumble what I forgot was still there.

I sat with my shadow, and you know what it told me?
It told me I needed to open my heart if I was truly to be free.
I scoffed and laughed, “It is open! See!”
But my shadow always knew better than me.
My shadow always knew what I wasn’t ready to see.
That the depth of my love even frightened me.
Because if I could love this much, then what about the grief?
Grief is the cost of love. It would take everything from me.
I wouldn’t survive it. I’m not strong enough.
So I’d pull closer, then push back, and we’d do this dance just long enough...
Until it’s just me again.
Hi.
See.
This was my own self-fulfilling prophecy.
If I never had you, then you can’t be something I lose.
But what a privilege it is to have something to lose.

Throughout these last few weeks, I’ve had to truly embody the work I’ve been building for years, while also staying open to the higher wisdom coming through.

Like the fact that keeping people at arm’s length felt safer than letting them all the way in, because the only guarantee in this life is death, and I didn’t know if I’d survive a loss like that.

Like the fact that I wouldn’t let myself receive the love being shown to me, because then I’d have to break away from the story that it doesn’t matter if I’m here or not, so I don’t have to commit to sticking around.

Like the fact that sometimes our deepest fears are actually pointing us toward what we value and desire the most. And it’s easier to build illusions around why we can’t have it than to carry the weight of what comes with letting it in.

This is hot girl math at its finest.

All of this is happening while Saturn and Neptune transit my fourth house of home, family, ancestry, and roots in Aries, while Pluto tiptoes next to my Venus.

It’s not lost on me that this is also happening while I dismantle the limiting beliefs that have quietly convinced me over time that I don’t deserve to be here. That I shouldn’t take up space. That there’s no room for me. That the life I deeply desire is available to other people—but not me.

But why not me? Who else, if not me?

What a convenient trap for those of us who are the variables of change. The ones who see what has been quietly hidden and have the courage to actually do something about it.

The Aries energy at the foundation of my chart has embedded chaos in my roots, but it has also been the fuel that keeps me going when I have nothing left to give in order to rebuild what was never stable to begin with. A true warrior mentality.

And I am, if nothing else, a stubborn motherfucker. I won’t apologize for that.

I’m sharing all of this because contrary to popular opinion, there is no finish line to this work. Life will keep throwing plot twists and disruptions that feel disorienting and destabilizing. And maybe, if you’re anything like me, you once told yourself that your real life would begin once you were healed.

But that day never comes. Life just keeps moving, while you wait to decide whether or not you want to play.

I wasn’t an active participant in my own life for a long time. I spent years on the sidelines—too scared to get involved, attached, hurt, or anything.

But I was missing it. I was missing all of it.

Even now, with days that begin anxiously checking my phone for a good morning text from my Dad, and nights spent talking myself out of a spiral—I am still living my life. I have somehow, some way, learned how to hold the tension of the opposites.

Because what a gift it is to feel everything. To have a life that evokes everything out of you.

What The Pattern named as Accepting or Anxious isn’t just a personality quirk. It was pulled from my moon in my chart—the part of myself that learned, early on, that safety and satisfaction were never guaranteed, so it became easier to brace for loss than to rest in love.

The moon doesn’t lie. It just shows us where we learned to hide.

And hiding looked like pushing people away before they could leave. It looked like minimizing my needs so I wouldn’t be a burden. It looked like telling myself that I was fine on the sidelines, when really I was just terrified of being on the field.

But there’s another side to this that I’ve been sitting with…

The same placement that made survival feel like the goal is also what makes me so deeply feeling, so attuned, so capable of holding space for the full spectrum of human experience. The wound and the gift have always lived in the same house.

That’s the work. Not fixing the moon. Not transcending the pattern. But learning to let both things be true at once—that you are still healing and you are already whole. That you can be terrified and still show up. That love can be the most dangerous thing you’ve ever let yourself want, and still be worth it.

If anything I just wrote felt personal to you, then maybe your moon is holding some secrets that are ready to be revealed to you.

Dark Side of the Moon is an immersive workshop for anyone who’s ever used their mind to survive their feelings—and is ready to let the body lead instead. We go into the shadow. We sit with what’s been hiding. And we find out what’s waiting on the other side.

You don’t have to have it all figured out to show up.

That’s kind of the whole point.

Xo

There was a period of my life where I ran a blog called The Problem With Dating, and half a million people worldwide followed me on that journey.

I wrote about situationships, and emotionally unavailable men, and the specific exhaustion of being someone who loved deeply in a world that seemed allergic to it.

I was perceptive. I was articulate. I could diagnose an anxious attachment pattern from a three-word text.

And yet, I was absolutely, completely focused on everyone but myself.

If you’ve ever finished a relationship—or a situationship, or an almost-relationship, or whatever we’re calling them now—and found yourself doing a forensic analysis of the other person, you know the drill.

You replay the timeline. You identify the red flags you ignored. You talk it through with your friends until the story is so well-worn it practically has a title.

You do the journaling. You read the books. You maybe even go to therapy, or pull your birth chart, or take a Human Design course looking for the explanation that finally makes it make sense.

And then, somehow, you end up in the same place again. Different person. Same feeling.

I don’t remember the exact moment it hit me, but I remember the quality of it—the way certain truths arrive quietly, without drama, which somehow makes them harder to dismiss.

I was the common denominator.

Not in a punishing way. Not in the way my inner critic would have loved to run with it.

But in a simple, almost mathematical way—every relationship I had ever been in, I had been in. Every dynamic I kept finding myself in, I had helped build. Every person I had chosen, I had chosen.

And when you have that many eyes on you and people who praise your work, your humanity becomes overshadowed by the self-inflicted pressure of being who everyone else expects you to be.

Wise. Grounded. Someone who knows her shit. And yet, here we go again. Cue the imposter syndrome.

I won’t pretend that wasn’t humbling. There’s a particular kind of embarrassment that comes with realizing you’ve been the author of your own suffering—especially when you’re someone who has read all the books and done all the work and still managed to miss it. It can feel like a failure on top of a failure.

But underneath the embarrassment was something else entirely. Something that felt, against all odds, like relief.

Because if I was the problem, I was also the solution.

Here’s what I want to say to you, because I think it’s the part nobody talks about honestly…

Knowing this did not magically fix it.

I spent years after that realization still repeating the same patterns. Not because I wasn’t self-aware enough—I was almost annoyingly self-aware. I could see exactly what I was doing, sometimes even while I was doing it, and I still couldn’t seem to stop. I used to think that meant something was fundamentally wrong with me. That I was broken in some way that insight couldn’t reach.

But that wasn’t it at all.

The problem wasn’t that I didn’t know. The problem was that knowing and doing are completely different muscles—and I had spent years developing one while the other quietly atrophied. Awareness without the capacity to act on it isn’t transformation. It’s just a more sophisticated form of being stuck.

What I actually needed wasn’t more information about myself. I needed to build the part of myself that could take everything I knew and finally, actually, move differently.

That’s what I kept coming back to when I was building the Dark Side of the Moon workshop.

Not another framework for understanding your patterns (you probably already understand them), but a real, held space to do the thing that comes after understanding. To meet the parts of yourself that have been running the show from the shadows, and to start, slowly, to change your relationship with them.

If you’ve done the therapy and read the books and pulled the charts and still feel like something isn’t shifting—this is for you. Not because you haven’t tried hard enough. But because you might be ready for the next part.

Your Moon sign doesn’t just describe how you feel. It maps your unconscious—the emotional survival strategies you developed before you had words for them, the patterns you inherited from your mother, the parts of yourself you learned to hide, exile, or perform depending on who was watching.

That’s the dark side. And that’s where the real work is.

In this 90-minute live workshop, we’ll move through your Moon sign (you’ll need to know your birth date, birth location and if possible, birth time, but it’s OK if you don’t), its shadow expression, its house placement, and the mother wound it carries—layer by layer, with honesty and without judgment.

You’ll walk away with:

• A clear understanding of your Moon sign’s gifts and its shadow—including the unconscious habits borrowed from your sister sign

• Insight into where and with whom your emotional patterns show up most (relationships, work, safety-seeking behaviors)

• A map of the early emotional programming you inherited—and what it looks like to start rewriting it

• Practical shadow work tools you can use immediately: prompts, lunar cycle practices, and somatic awareness techniques

• A resource handout to find and decode your Moon placement if you’re brand new to astrology

sign me up!

This isn’t an astrology lecture. It’s a guided excavation into your emotional underworld.

You already know the problem isn’t always them. The quietly terrifying, quietly liberating thing is—you’ve known for a while.

And just like everything else, this knowing is asking you to do something with it.

Xo

P.S. Don’t forget to join us for Shadow Work Through Tarot & Poetry on April 1, where we’ll dive into the shadows of Libra.

Nearly a year ago, I was on a routine walk around my neighborhood, which is something I do daily. However, on this particular day, I decided to explore a different path.

It didn’t take long to realize why I was drawn down a different route.

I came across a little book nook on the corner. You know the ones… those small wooden boxes people fill with secondhand books. They’re sprinkled all over the neighborhood, which is one of the many things I love about this place.

I always stop to take a glance at what treasures are nestled inside, whether for a quick bibliomancy message or a more committed journey I never saw coming, and sitting there among the paperbacks was a thick, heavy book with bold lettering on the spine:

Holy Blood, Holy Grail.

Obviously, I picked it up.

If you follow my work, then you know I have an affinity for the stories of Yeshua and Mary Magdalene. You may also know that I’m Lebanese, and at the time, I was weeks away from returning to Lebanon for the first time in six years. A trip back to the place that birthed me, the culture that shaped me, the country I’ve witnessed experience bloodbath after bloodbath due to religion.

Something about that book felt like it was waiting for me, so I took it home.

That was over six months ago. And I have been time traveling ever since.

I want to be upfront with you—Holy Blood, Holy Grail is a controversial book. It’s speculative and some have even proclaimed it’s a hoax (which only makes me that much more intrigued). The authors—Michael Baigent, Richard Leigh, and Henry Lincoln, who have all passed away, and I know that because I wanted to email them (lol)—are asking questions, not necessarily delivering verdicts, and mainstream historians take issue with some of their conclusions.

But here’s what I’ve come to believe about really good books… sometimes their greatest gift isn’t the answers they give you. It’s the questions they refuse to let you ignore.

This book has left me with more questions than answers, and I have yet to reach the final page (it’s quite dense).

However, as I near the last remaining pages of what has become the focal point of the last six months, the question at the center of all of it is this…

What if everything we were taught about religion—the beliefs that have shaped civilizations, started wars, divided families, and told us who we are and whether we’re worthy—was, at least in part, a carefully constructed political project?

Not divine revelation. Not timeless truth handed down from above. A strategy. Designed by men in power, to keep men in power.

This may not be breaking news to some of you, as many of us have challenged the inception of religion and its ties to politics and world history. Yet, something feels incredibly poignant to this point in time.

As I was preparing my Lebanese tartine and iced latte for breakfast recently, I was hit with a That’s So Raven moment…

Remember when TikTok had that trend of women asking their husbands or the men in their lives how often they think about the fall of the Roman empire? That was a clue. And for a long time, I thought it was foreshadowing the fall of the American empire (which is part of the equation), but this morning, it dawned on me…

The Roman empire never actually fell, but perhaps it’s about to.

So, let’s go back to Rome.

when christianity became a chess piece.

By the early 4th century, the Roman Empire had a problem. It was vast, expensive, and fracturing at the edges. The old civic religion—devotion to Jupiter, the Emperor as divine figurehead—was losing its hold on people. And a new movement was spreading with a speed that no amount of persecution could stop: Christianity.

Many tried to crush it, but it kept growing, because it offered something the imperial cult never could. An interior life. Personal relationship with the sacred. Community. Meaning.

So Emperor Constantine did something far smarter than persecution.

In 313 AD, he extended official tolerance to Christians through the Edict of Milan. And then, in 325 AD, he convened the Council of Nicaea.

Nicaea was not primarily a spiritual gathering. It was a policy meeting. Constantine presided over it as Emperor, not as a theologian. The council’s central task was to decide which version of Christianity would become official—meaning which version would be governable, scalable, and useful to the Roman state.

Entire gospels were debated and excluded. The nature of Christ—divine, human, or both—was put to a vote. The date of Easter was adjusted to align with existing Roman solar festivals. And don’t even get me started on how they used Jesus as a prop for their own propaganda, because that’s a whole other conversation that we need to have.

Ultimately, what emerged from that room was less a living faith and more a franchise—a theology with an emotional depth the old gods never offered, built on an authority structure that mapped almost perfectly onto Roman provincial administration. Bishops instead of governors. Dioceses instead of provinces. One Church. One doctrine. One Rome, wearing new clothes.

The emperor’s new clothes.

This wasn’t a spiritual revolution overtaking a political empire. It was a political empire absorbing and reshaping a spiritual revolution in a way that heavily blurred the lines and gave it power.

the empire’s rebrand.

We are taught that Rome fell in 476 AD. The Western Empire collapses, barbarians breach the gates, darkness descends.

But instead of focusing on what collapsed, look at what actually survived.

Roman law became the bedrock of European legal systems. Latin remained the language of scholarship, diplomacy, and church liturgy for over a thousand years. The Church’s hierarchy of bishops, archbishops, and papal authority mirrored Roman provincial governance so closely that historians routinely describe it as a direct institutional inheritance.

And then there’s this detail…

The Pope inherited the title Pontifex Maximus—the chief high priest in ancient Rome, a position that held significant religious and political power. This had been one of the Emperor’s primary religious titles for centuries. It didn’t vanish when Rome “fell.” It transferred offices. The building changed. The institution didn’t.

When Charlemagne was crowned Holy Roman Emperor in 800 AD—by the Pope, mind you—it wasn’t a new thing. It was the old thing, resurrected and rebranded, with a Christian vocabulary draped over Roman bones.

what was removed.

Here is where Holy Blood, Holy Grail opened something in me that I’m still sitting with.

The official Christian canon, otherwise known as the Bible, was not handed down intact from the earliest followers of Jesus. It was curated. Assembled, debated, and in many cases deliberately narrowed at councils controlled by an empire with a vested interest in a particular kind of theology.

What was excluded? Dozens of early texts. The Gospel of Thomas, which emphasizes direct personal experience of the divine. The Gospel of Mary Magdalene, in which a woman holds spiritual authority. Gnostic texts that locate the sacred within the individual rather than mediated through an institution.

These weren’t lost. They were removed. And what replaced them, or placed above them, was a theology built around sin, hierarchy, obedience, and salvation dispensed through institutional channels.

Think about what that means psychologically. A theology that tells you that you are broken, that grace is scarce, that access to the divine requires an intermediary appointed by other men, who trace their authority back to a council convened by an Emperor…

That theology does not liberate the human spirit. It disembodies it.

I grew up in Lebanon, in a culture where religion is not just faith—it’s identity, politics, family, survival. It weaves through everything.

Going back after six years, I saw it differently than I ever had before. I saw how thoroughly belief becomes infrastructure. How the stories we’re given about who God is, who is saved, and who is not aren’t just spiritual ideas. They are a loaded gun in a social and political architecture that has been standing, in one form or another, for 17 centuries.

the psyche doesn’t forget.

This newsletter lives at the intersection of the spirit and the psyche—a place of seemingly contradicting energy that is actually most powerful when brought together.

We didn’t choose our first beliefs. They were handed to us by parents, by culture, by a civilization that inherited them from a civilization before. And that chain of inheritance runs all the way back through the medieval Church, through Nicaea, through Constantine, to a room full of Roman administrators deciding what the inner life of a human being should look like.

Jung wrote that the greatest burden a child must carry is the unlived life of the parent. I think we can extend that even further to the greatest burden a soul carries is the unexamined theology of its civilization.

When you feel unworthy of grace, when the divine seems fundamentally distant or judgmental, when spirituality feels like a performance rather than a homecoming…

Is that your soul’s genuine knowing of what is true? Or is it the residue of a political decision made before you even had a choice?

Don’t get me wrong… faith is real. Spiritual experience is real. The longing for the sacred is one of the most fundamentally human things there is, and I’m living proof of that.

But the larger story that many have accepted without question? That was built by men with motives. And we deserve the right to investigate its roots.

so, what’s next?

I know I’m not alone in this. Institutional religion across the Western world is in visible, measurable decline, hence why fundamentalist Christian ideals and things like Project 2025 are a thing.

As I always say, things are loudest right before they die.

Church attendance is falling. Trust in religious authority is at historic lows. The generation coming of age now is the least religiously affiliated in recorded history—and simultaneously, one of the most openly curious about spirituality, mysticism, inner work, and direct experience of the sacred.

I don’t believe in coincidence. And the South Node in Virgo and North Node in Pisces axis that we have been traveling the last 2 years astrologically is further proof of this turning.

What looks like secularism might actually be something much older reasserting itself. The hunger for a relationship with the divine that was never meant to be mediated by an institution. That was never meant to require a middle man. That was never meant to be dictated by anyone or anything other than your own personal experience.

Rome built a magnificent golden cage. And it has lasted, in one form or another, for 1700 years.

But cages only work when the people inside don’t know they’re in one.

I’ll be honest with you, I don’t have a clear conclusion. Neither does the book I found in that little wooden box on the corner of my street (at least, not yet). But I’ve learned to trust the questions more than I trust the tidy answers I was handed growing up, and maybe you resonate with that.

What grows from here is your journey.

Xo

I was 11 years old when I turned to my Dad in the church of our hometown and said, “I don’t want to come here anymore.”

My Dad, a devout Catholic who fought wars on behalf of his religion, was horrified. Sometimes I wonder if he thought he had given birth to Satan’s spawn, but my argument was very simple…

If God is everywhere, why do I have to come here?

Every Sunday, he’d attempt to wake me up to attend mass, and I’d either play dead, throw a fit until he was too tired to fight me, or just comply because I was too tired to fight him.

But I didn’t like being in that place. It didn’t feel pure.

There was something about the energy I felt when I’d hear the sermons, that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It was like I was catching something everyone else was missing…

Guilt, shame, and fear weaved in between every other word. The type of backhanded toxicity that takes you a few days to fully process, because in the moment it’s too slick to comprehend.

And there I was, younger than most of the people there, hearing every strategically placed words that seemed to put people under a spell, which conveniently came right before the basket for financial offerings was passed down each pew.

Hey, you’re a sinner. But if you give us some money, maybe God will let you into Heaven.

Classic manipulation. And every week, when my father would put more money than I knew we had to spend in that basket, I not only felt disgusted. I felt rage.

At that time, I thought God was inherently tied to the church. It was his house, after all. So when I broke away from the church, I figured God wasn’t really my thing either.

I broke up with God.

But God, the true God, never let go of me.

I’m getting emotional writing this, because it was such a visceral experience. I was so young, and yet so aware. And that detachment, despite being necessary for my journey, also created a feeling that I was completely alone in this world.

Was I Satan’s spawn? Why was no one seeing what I was seeing? Why was no one hearing what I was hearing? And who could I possibly talk to about this without feeling judged?

I was angry that I couldn’t just play along. That would’ve been much easier, but my life is evidence that the easy route was never really my strong suit. Blame it on the Saturnian influence of my chart, I guess.

Writing became my safe space. The page never judged me, although it took me some time to be honest with it. My mask of being a “good girl” was so strong that I couldn’t even take it off when it was just me, and perhaps that’s because I inherently knew that it’s never just me.

There’s always someone, or something, watching. And I never wanted to disappoint them. Clearly, that Catholic guilt seeps in deep.

I never ever thought I’d be writing about God so passionately, let alone doing the work that I do with clients. But life has a funny way of surprising you.

When I first got on Facebook nearly 100 years ago (or so it seems), I distinctly remember answering the questions about religion and politics on my profile with, “I don’t care to discuss topics that divide people.”

Religion and politics? No, thanks. I can find a million other things to talk about, because religion and politics were the background of my entire life. Religion and politics got my family and I exiled from our country. Religion and politics killed my family and ravaged my country.

Religion and politics, as far as I was concerned, were at the epicenter of all the problems in the world, and as we can see now, that isn’t entirely wrong.

However, here I am, talking about it. Quite often, actually. And I’m just as surprised as everyone else who knew me back then.

When I turned away from God, I treated it like every other breakup—I don’t talk about them, I don’t think about them, I avoid anything that has to do with them. A complete cut-off. The word “God” alone would make me exit a conversation.

Yet at the same time, I’d experience synchronicities I couldn’t ignore. Moments where I was protected from harm, moments of serendipity that garnered no logical explanation, and moments of magick that felt like I was being invited into a secret world within this one.

This is what the Gnostics talked about. Gnosis. An intuitive, spiritual, deeply intimate journey to knowing the Divine—not an intellectual one. I’ve learned a lot of people, including myself at one point, prefer intellectual relationships. It’s safer that way (allegedly).

Many years later, after numerous nights of screaming into the void and crying to the ether, it was clear that I was fighting for my relationship with God, but not the God that I was told to believe in. The God that I always knew in my heart.

The God that would never need your obedience, compliance, or sworn pledge to only follow them, because God knows there is no other God.

But a fake “God” would ask that of you.

A false god would demand loyalty, blind obedience, and authority over all, which in and of itself, proves that there are others you could choose to follow instead.

I didn’t break up with God. I broke up with the false God. The fraud. The clone that had everyone else fooled, but not me. Turns out, I was actually fighting for God, fighting for the love I never forgot, fighting for the remembrance of what was always there but somehow disillusioned.

Fighting the spell that has captured too many souls for lifetimes.

I know the truth when I see it, because I feel it. And that’s been my greatest gift.

Perhaps the world is finally catching up.

Xo

It’s a new cycle, new experience, and new energy, which means it’s important that we get clear on being able to read the signs from the Universe moving forward.

It’s something I incredibly enjoy doing, because I see it like one big mystery that I’m being asked to solve. Gather all the clues. See how it all fits. What do you make of it?

This is a process I call hot girl math.

A few years ago, I was filming an impromptu TikTok in my car (as I’d always do) to talk about astrology, and I simply said, “Astrology is hot girl math.”

And the people seemed to agree with me.

That was the easiest way I could explain it while capturing the same energy. It’s the process of taking things that you normally wouldn’t put together and realizing that there’s something special there...

Like mixing your wardrobe and creating a cute fit, or learning more about someone you didn’t think you’d hit it off with and realizing there’s something there, or seeing the beauty in someone else’s garbage and reviving it into something incredible.

That’s hot girl math.

Why math? Because you’re solving equations, and quite elaborate ones, too!

Why hot girl? Because being smart and clever and intuitive and unconventional and able to break down complexity in such a simple way is the hottest thing ever. Plus, we’re known to think a lot, so anyway…

This is my new series on YouTube, where I break down the energetic equations and cosmic clues that I’m being given as significant for this time, so that we can all witness and experience how the Universe is always talking to us, and what to do with what we receive.

In this first episode, I briefly touch on what’s currently happening in the world, and how this isn’t new darkness, but old darkness becoming visible. This is an ancient entity that we’re collectively transmuting, and if I sound looney-tunes saying this to you, well, welcome to the show.

You might wanna buckle up.

The ancients knew this day was coming, and the Hopi prophecy kept ringing in my ear, so we dive into that a bit, before connecting it all to three prominent astrology placements and transits that felt significant to highlight:

• Pluto in Aquarius transit

• Saturn-Neptune conjunction

• Pluto in Scorpio generation (with a nod to Pluto in Libra)

Sometimes we gotta zoom out, before we can really zoom in. And during this series, we’ll be breaking down the last 10 years in order to uncover the messages and clues from the Universe that were all leading us up to this moment.

I’ll also be giving you homework on how this all relates to your personal journey and shadow work, so you already know to have a journal and pen handy. Don’t act like you don’t know how I move.

You’re a part of this moment in history. And you may not be able to see it right now, because there’s a lot of smoke in the air. The rubble hasn’t settled.

But if you tap into your heart, and you remind yourself of what you know to be true, then you also know that what we are experiencing is not the end of anything.

It’s just the beginning.

Xo

The way of the alchemist often involves a perspective that stretches far beyond your comfort.

To truly transmute energy, you have to get close enough to the source that you can transform it. But there’s a risk we don’t always talk about…

Sometimes the energy grabs hold of you, too, and transforms you instead.

To avoid that, you have to be so rooted in yourself that you’re not easily swayed by the deceptive tactics of something that knows it’s about to be asked to change.

And there’s no shortcut to that kind of grounded wisdom without first being willing to consider possibilities that require you to face some very undesirable truths about yourself.

As I always say, there is no healing without honesty. And that’s exactly why it’s so hard.

Pattern recognition has been one of the most valuable tools in my spiritual awakenings—even if it makes me a little neurotic sometimes. It’s a cosmic scavenger hunt and I’m always ready to play. And for a long time, my love life was the playground.

Ever since 2011, I’ve found myself in a revolving door of “not-ready” relationships. Situationships, as I used to call them on my dating blog The Problem With Dating.

It was a pattern that became impossible to ignore, especially after releasing my book Let That Shit Go: A Journey to Forgiveness, Healing & Understanding Love which conveniently highlighted a lot of these relationships back to back.

And while I always questioned my own role in these dynamics—so much so that a therapist once told me my biggest issue was self-blame—I also can’t deny how easy it was to mask the deeper work by pointing the finger outward at the long line of emotionally unavailable, non-committal men who would entertain me… but never choose me.

Even that language no longer resonates with me, but for the sake of painting the picture…

Have I dated some people who acted out of integrity with me? Yes, yes I have. More times than I’d like to acknowledge. Did they also help me look at some of the ways I also act out of integrity with myself? Why, yes. Yes they did.

Focusing on their behavior, their patterns, their lore was familiar. Comfortable. A distraction from having to look at my own, and instead let me continue cozying up to my well-polished and Oscar-winning role of “the victim,” “the hopeless romantic” and “the girl who always gets left.”

I was standing right next to the energy that needed to be transmuted—but I wasn’t ready to face it yet. So I looked everywhere else. At everybody else. And enjoyed the view from my cushy seat of self-righteousness.

But even that gets old after a while.

When I noticed my reactions started to feel scripted, I knew something was wrong. I wasn’t an active participant in my own life anymore. I was running on autopilot, and every day felt like Groundhog Day.

Was she going to see her shadow… or not?

Because I understand that reality works through reflection, I knew these men weren’t random. They weren’t bad luck or just a shitty streak. They were mirrors. Necessary ones.

So eventually, I had to ask myself the harder question… where is this energy living inside of me and what is it protecting?

When I was finally willing to face the shadow associated with non-commitment, I expected the answer to be emotional unavailability, because that’s often part of it, but for me, it wasn’t the whole story.

It was about choosing.

Scattered energy is distracted energy. And while I always understood that concept intellectually, I hadn’t realized how deeply I was practicing it in my own life.

Not just in my relationships. In my work. My creativity. My purpose.

Remember when I said that the sacral chakra holds our sexual, creative, and healing energy, and that sometimes we confuse what’s actually happening there when it gets activated?

These men were mirroring my own non-commitment to my creative path, but that ignition felt like a call to heal (or get physically enthralled, if you will) them rather than a call to create. Continuously choosing to focus on others, instead of my own responsibilities.

They wouldn’t settle down with me in the same way I wouldn’t settle down with the version of myself that was ready to move forward.

Instead, I kept floating in the liminal space between worlds. Dabbling here and there. Curious about everything. Fully investing in nothing. Always yearning. Always wanting. Never having or sustaining.

It was safe.

But that also created self-sabotage. False starts. Inconsistency. Minimal effort dressed up as exploration, much like the “relationships” I was constantly involved in.

My desire to entertain everything at once meant I never truly entertained anything deeply, and not only is depth important to me, but it’s required for longevity—the same way strong roots are required before a tree’s branches can expand.

I knew that I wanted expansion in whatever way that meant for me, but the illusion of options kept me away from taking root.

So I had to ask the next big question…

What is it about commitment that feels unsafe?

For me, the fear lived in unanswered questions.

What if I chose the wrong path? What if I ended up unhappy? What if I committed to something that wasn’t aligned?

When I was younger, I used to say the two scariest words in the English language were what if. I never wanted to live in that question. I wanted to find out. To explore. To try everything.

And I did.

I spent a lot of my life finding out. Turns out, I like a lot of things, and I’m pretty good at a lot of things, too.

But the real fear wasn’t choosing the wrong direction—it was not trusting myself enough to know I could turn around if I wanted to.

I didn’t trust that I could leave what wasn’t for me, because historically, I hadn’t.

Unfulfilling jobs, relationships, friendships, environments…

Over and over, I showed myself how willing I was to abandon what I wanted in order to preserve what I already had and guise it under “loyalty.” Certainty felt safer than truth.

But the Universe never lets me get away with things that easy, so life did what life always does.

It threw me into years of uncertainty, chaos, plot twists, and one tower moment after another. Not to punish me, but to teach me. (It still pissed me off though.)

Those years were giving me invaluable insight in the form of experiential evidence. They showed me that I can survive anything. That I can begin again. That I am allowed to change my mind. That I will never find peace in an environment I don’t belong in.

And if I can trust myself with endings, then maybe I can finally trust myself with committing to a rooted beginning and see what happens when I go all in.

Xo

We don’t usually consider “good” traits to be associated with the shadow, but you’d be surprised at how many seemingly beneficial qualities are actually disguises masking some of our greatest power.

I’ve always been a very perceptive girl. I caught everything. I could feel when something was off before anyone said a word. I asked a lot of questions, and I could tell when people weren’t being honest with me.

Perhaps that’s what sparked my trust issues so early on, because let me tell you something… a lot of people lie, both to others and to themselves. Whether it’s a fib, a white lie, a quiet omission, or outright betrayal, it became painfully clear to me that very few people actually embody truth.

Or at least, that’s how it seemed.

Everyone was wearing some kind of mask. I hated it. Especially when I realized I was wearing one, too.

I was raised to be polite, obedient, and well-mannered. Unfortunately, many of the traits associated with being a “good girl” result in finding a way to disappear. You don’t take up space. You’re not loud. You’re not argumentative. You don’t really have opinions, or at least you don’t voice them.

You’re quiet. You comply. You do as you’re told.

You can imagine how conflicting that was for me. Not only am I deeply observant, but I’m also a certified yapper. I can talk your ear off for hours and you still won’t quite know how we got there.

You can imagine how dangerous that combination can become, too.

When I needed my voice the most, it was nowhere to be found. When I needed to take up space, to be loud, to be heard, to express myself—I couldn’t. I didn’t know how. I never got the chance to know her.

And yet, she was the one holding my gifts.

So much of what I offer the world is rooted in self-expression. Of course my life presented me with endless challenges to that very thing. I had to fight for it. Earn it. Protect it. Remember what it took to reclaim it.

That fight looked like absorbing criticism and judgment on a daily basis. It looked like receiving more doubt than encouragement. It looked like rejection, teasing, being disliked, misunderstood, and written off.

It also looked like resenting people who took up space freely. It looked like being passive aggressive. It looked like constant outer compliance paired with inner defiance. And that kind of split creates a lot of rage.

This is the cage we build for ourselves.

We take the parts of ourselves we were conditioned to believe have no value, no place, no safety—and we lock them away. But they don’t disappear. They turn on you. They create an internal war that forces you to move between what you’ve labeled “good” and “bad” just to feel some sense of release.

This is how chaos is born inside us. There’s no truth. No authenticity. No integrity. Just the illusion that a band-aid will heal a severed limb.

Your shadow is not something else to reject. It’s where your power lives. The power you were told was too much. Too dangerous. Not acceptable to embody.

We all have it.

Pay attention to what has been targeted in your life. What have people consistently tried to silence, suppress, or shame out of you? There may be something waiting to be activated there… but it will ask everything of you.

If I had remained devoted to being polite, obedient, and well-mannered, I would never be doing what I do now. I would never be able to show up the way I do. I would never have met myself fully or received the blessings that come with truly being my Self.

This is my greatest love story. The relationship I fought for. Changed for. Pleaded for. Went to war for.

I learned for her. And I unlearned for her.

And here’s what I discovered…

She’s not always polite, but she’s never intentionally cruel. She’s not always obedient, because she’s careful about what she gives her devotion to. And she’s not always well-mannered, because sometimes manners are a crock of shit.

But most importantly, I learned that everything I love most about her is exactly what she was taught not to be.

And I’m really glad she didn’t listen.

Xo

Yes, you chose to be here at a crazy fucking time in history. And that’s because you have a role to play. We all do.

We were born into the revival of the wayshowers, guides, disruptors, teachers, rebels, healers, travelers, warriors, and creators. The ones whose magick lies coiled at the spine, waiting to birth into the dragons that can traverse this genre-bending reality of experience.

But you already knew this.

You felt it in your bones most of your life, but perhaps you silenced that feeling because it felt arrogant and stupid. Maybe it was easier to act like this life is nothing special, and you decided that checking out would be better than waking up to whatever annoying call keeps tugging at your spirit.

Listen, that’s free will. You have the freedom to choose whatever life you want, but just know that call is never going to stop ringing.

If you decide to pick up, what’s on the other side of that call is an invitation. One that will turn your world on its head, ask of you things that you never thought possible, and show you just how possible the impossible can be.

We all have that moment… red pill or blue pill? What happens if you take both?

I can’t look at my phone without seeing a notification about our government attacking its own people.

It can be easier than you’d like to admit to become complacent to it all. Not just out of overstimulation and saturation of the same energy being projected at you day after day, year after year…

… but because our generation grew up watching violence on screen. We became used to it, and would even choose it when it came to video games and movies. Programming on a screen became second-nature, and we got addicted to it. And now when we watch someone being executed on the street on our phones, our minds can’t even send signals to counteract that this is actually happening. It’s not a movie, it’s real life. Or is it? Or is it AI? Is any of this actually real?

Remember I always tell you confusion is the work of the Devil.

And that’s not to say it’s inherently evil, but it does require you to meet parts of yourself that you may not care to know.

Sometimes confusion is a byproduct of seeking new information. It’s understanding that you want clarity, but allowing yourself to find answers that create more questions if necessary, and that is something not many people are willing to do. People want certainty, even if it’s a lie.

As a millennial, it has unfortunately been my life story to watch this world go through one crisis after another with barely any time to breathe in between, which is funny when you think about it, because we’re also the generation people call lazy.

We don’t know hard work, apparently. We’re just arrested in development, waiting for someone to come save us.

Kinda sounds like some other people, no?

Well, we’re not lazy. We incredibly dysregulated. Our bodies are shot, and instead of just pushing through it like those before us who passed down all of these epigentic goodies, we chose to sit with it. To heal it. To alchemize it into our own benefit. And sometimes that requires rotting in bed for weeks at a time while going down another rabbit hole.

We live in a paradox. A highly intelligent and incredibly manipulative system that wants to see just how far it can go. And while that can sound incredibly dystopian and dark, it all makes sense.

At least to me and my out-of-the-box mystical Self.

The way I see it… we are living in the braided, oftentimes knotted, center of two Universes colliding. The weaving of two worlds that were never meant to coexist, and yet could never be set apart. There’s a magnetic pull—an unexplainable draw that can no longer be denied, because wherever you are, there they are.

We live in a house of mirrors. And you can never escape yourself when you’re in front of a mirror.

Millennials are the bridge between two worlds that weren’t expected to come together. We saw it with our parents’ love stories. We see it in our contradicting interests, the way we age differently than other generations, the lifestyles we’re living in our late 30s that’s nothing like what we thought it would be.

We see it in the way we can connect with the eldest generation and yet still adapt to the younger ones. We see it in our duality. And we see it as we watch one seemingly conflicting world merge into another one.

But when you get to the root, which is where real change begins, the difference between these worlds, which is a macrocosm to the differences between ourselves and within ourselves, is an illusion. It’s actually a part of yourself you no longer recognize or refuse to know.

Some of us have befriended our darkness so much that we assume our light was sacrificed for it. Others of us cling to our light so tightly, because acknowledging our darkness feels too threatening.

And yet the two cannot exist without each other. Their sheer existence is based upon the assumption that the other exists, too. And that same dance is happening within ourselves, within our lives, and within the world we live in.

We’re also the last generation to know life before technology took hold of it. We watched the rapid pace at which our society transformed from an episode of The Wonder Years to an episode of WestWorld.

We’re the last ones that remember playing outside with our friends, getting excited to spend the night reading an entire magazine from cover to cover, or building community with the people in our neighborhoods without being glued to a device in our pocket.

We remember how much fun you can have without constant distraction, which meant we’re the last to truly remember presence and being in the body. There’s liberation there that we’ve taken for granted, and we’re seeing the cost of it.

Now, we’re lucky if we even move our bodies. The world moves around us while we fixate on a screen that does all the living for us. We become disembodied, leaving our vessels open for whatever energies want to come in and take a seat.

Dangerous behavior. But a smart tactic for those who are looking for a seat in a crowded space.

We’ve been pendulum swinging between a world of intellect and a world of instinct—longing for coherence between our consciousness and our primal nature that can only happen when two seeming opposites decide to come together.

And yet, we find ourselves living in what feels like another spiral of time, experiencing history unfold before our eyes with the same scenes that we grew up learning about in our books, but now they’re in 4K.

History repeats itself because we assume what we’ve done is all that can be done. We refuse innovation and lean into the comfort of assumption and prediction with a limited mindset of what is possible.

And when history repeats itself, it creates another loop. Too many loops, and you have a knot. A knot can be harder to untangle. It requires a tolerance for chaos. Patience. Persistence. A knowing it’s possible.

We reincarnated at this time, because the knot is being untangled, and it requires souls who are willing to remember patience, persistence, and an embodied knowing of what’s possible with a fierce drive to navigate chaos.

Earth is the womb of this Universe. It is the planet of creation, manifestation, and grounded reality. It is dense, which means its frequency is impactful. It’s near the foundation of all there is. This is where more worlds are birthed into the Universe.

The time has come to midwife a new world collectively, one that hasn’t fallen so deep into the divide that its no longer able to recognize it’s own Self within the other.

What happens here reverberates into worlds you’ve only dreamed about. It touches people and places you may never truly know. That’s how powerful our energy is, and that’s why you reincarnated right now.

You know the descent. You went to the dark place to balance this energy from the root, to create grids of activation and weave frequencies into the ether. You planted seeds that are sprouting, and you anchored to not lose footing.

You know the ascent. You went beyond your physical limitations to places where fragments of your soul were left waiting to be reclaimed, integrated and embodied. You gathered pieces of yourself like lost children and cultivated a safe home for them to unpack in.

You are familiar with death, and are capable of birth, ready to utilize the bridge between the psyche and the spirit to set off the divine spark that ignites all of creation.

We are the Pluto in Scorpio generation, after all.

You remember that you are a part of the whole, which means the whole is a part of you. And what you do in your own little world, reverberates into the world around you.

When you untie the final loop at the center of the knot, the entire thread must travel through in order for it to become undone.

We have pulled the thread to the final knot, and this is its undoing.

Xo

There are certain astrological shifts you don’t feel all at once.

They arrive slowly, like fog lifting from a coastline. And only later do you realize how long you’ve been walking through mist.

Next week, one of those rare shifts is happening.

After nearly 14 years (!!), Neptune is officially leaving Pisces and moving into Aries—closing a chapter that began all the way back in 2011.

And if you’re feeling tender, disoriented, emotional, clearer, braver, or strangely ready for something new… it’s not your imagination.

It’s integration.

Neptune rules dreams, illusions, spirituality, fantasy, escapism, art, addiction, intuition, grief, compassion, and the places where boundaries dissolve.

Pisces is its home sign, meaning all of those themes were amplified the last 14 years during this transit.

Collectively, Neptune’s slow move through Pisces sparked:

• A massive spiritual awakening (and spiritual bypassing) within society

• The rise of mysticism, astrology, psychedelics, and somatic healing

• Blurred boundaries in relationships, identity, and truth

• Escapism through fantasy, substances, screens, and spirituality

• Deep compassion… and deep confusion

Many of us spent this cycle unlearning who we thought we were in order to remember who we actually are (sound familiar?).

Individually, this transit may have shown up in your life as:

• Losing yourself in your relationships or unconsciously participating in certain roles

• Falling in love with potential instead of reality (ahem)

• Questioning your faith, your purpose in life, and your identity

• Healing ancestral grief and emotional wounds

• Learning discernment the hard way

Although this can be a beautiful transit, it’s definitely a disorienting one. It was both a season of remembering and dissolving, seemingly all at once.

This will be the last time in our lifetimes that we experience Neptune in its home sign of Pisces, marking a pivotal shift (both individually and collectively) when it enters Aries on January 26.

As you may know, Aries is the first sign of the zodiac. It is about identity, courage, leadership, instinct, anger, desire, and most of all—action.

This shifts the collective question from who are we spiritually? to who am I and what am I willing to fight for?

Similar to other long transits, Neptune dipped into Aries last year before moving back into Pisces for some final reflections and integrations. A cosmic cha-cha, if you will.

Last year, I mentioned that I believe Neptune’s transit in Aries will spark a spiritual rebellion—one that that challenges old beliefs, ignite radical new ideals, and call us to embody our highest visions with boldness.

Neptune in Aries begins a new 14-year story around:

• Spiritual courage instead of spiritual escape

• Identity rooted in intuition, not illusion

• Anger as sacred information

• Activism, leadership, and soul-driven action

• Reclaiming desire, instinct, and individuality

This may result in a rise in spiritual leadership and reform, new belief systems emerging, people becoming less tolerant of deception (especially within themselves), and a collective desire to act on what we know, not just what we feel.

This transit asks us what truth are you finally ready to embody—not just understand?

Something I’ve noticed about my own premonitions and prophecy is that they tend to be far in advance (requiring patience which isn’t always my strong suit)—and this is one of them.

I have felt the outcome of this transit for years now, which is why I’ve been called to go through what felt like an intensive of shadow work, integration and embodiment, because this work is going to be crucial moving forward.

Perhaps you’ve felt that, too.

As I’ve mentioned, Neptune dissolves boundaries, while Aries ignites action. This combination could manifest as a surge in spiritual activism, the rise of warrior mysticism, new visions of leadership and, in the shadow, disillusionment and deception in leadership.

People will feel called to fight for their beliefs and re-imagine spirituality in bold, unconventional ways. This will be a fusion of the sacred and the assertive, where spirituality becomes more direct, passionate, and action-driven.

However, the shadow side of Neptune in Aries may bring charismatic yet misleading figures, sparking ideological battles, and so discernment will be key (and also being able to spot cult dynamics).

We’re already seeing this take center stage with certain powerful figures who claim to be serving righteous authority yet lack integrity in their everyday beliefs and character.

As always, the best way to combat deception is to clear it from your own field first. No more lying to yourself. No more lying to others.

If you cannot hold the truth, then you will be easy prey for those who feed off of your vulnerabilities. This is why shadow work is important. It highlights where you continue to deceive yourself in order to maintain a false persona rooted in performance, fleeting validation, and illusion.

If you need help navigating this path, I got you. If there’s one thing I can promise you, it’s that I won’t feed into your illusions. I will (gently) challenge whatever armor you’ve constructed that keeps you imprisoned. Not because I want to shatter your reality, but because you deserve to live a life that isn’t a lie.

Neptune in Pisces allowed us to remember the magick. Neptune in Aries is asking us to embody it.

Less dreaming. More choosing. Less escaping. More becoming.

Are you ready to see it all unfold?

Xo

I’ve been quietly building something behind the scenes. Not just a fresh makeover for my website—but a home for the work I’ve been evolving into.

Over the years, one pattern has shown up again and again in my sessions, my inbox, and my own life…

People don’t come to this work because they’re broken. They come because they’re looping.

Repeating relationships. Repeating emotional reactions. Repeating the same inner arguments. Repeating cycles they intellectually understand… but can’t seem to exit.

And usually, underneath the loop, there’s something waiting to be integrated.

An unprocessed grief. An unlived truth. A younger version of the self still holding the steering wheel.

I know this very well.

My loops were publicized for the world to witness, both through my blog The Problem With Dating and my book, Let That Shit Go: A Journey to Forgiveness, Healing, and Understanding Love.

My dating patterns were clear alarm bells at something much deeper needing to be recognized, and they only became that much louder when printed on the page… one chapter after another.

An example of how obvious certain shadows can be, and yet integrating its wisdom into applied practice isn’t always as easy.

Although my ego loves to argue that it would’ve been better to just keep all of those intimate stories hidden and tucked away, my spirit knew the assignment—it’s evidence.

Evidence for the work I’m doing. Evidence for how potent it is. Evidence that it’s possible to be intelligent, charismatic, self-aware and yet still caught in this karmic loop from Hell that can feel out of your control, but actually is.

I’ve always said that I’m my biggest case study with my work, and you’ve been along for that ride every step of the way. There’s value in that.

As an avid intellectualizer who often felt safer in my head than in my body, I was living proof that there’s no true depth to healing if you’re not willing to go where the loops live…

And that’s in the body.

Knowing why something happens or why you act a certain way is just the first step, and while I’m quite good at connecting the dots and bringing awareness to the forefront (which will always be embedded in my work), the true magick is what you do with that information.

That’s where we are now.

My new website reflects the work I’m most devoted to—shadow integration, astrology as a healing language, and intuitive guidance rooted in embodiment rather than prediction.

Here’s a glimpse of what you’ll find within my new framework of services and offerings:

Your Year Ahead Insight Readings
A soul-level look at your themes, transits, and initiations for the birth year ahead. Available as a PDF-only reading or PDF + integration call. Limited availability.

Shadow Work Through Tarot & Poetry
In-person monthly workshops and guided spaces to explore the unconscious through ritual, writing, and archetypes associated with the corresponding full moon. Our next workshop is Feb. 4!

Integration Sessions
For those navigating transitions, relational patterns, or spiritual awakenings and seeking grounded support.

Integration Partnerships
For those who are ready to deepen their commitment with ongoing 1:1 work and intensive support. Limited availability.

Upcoming Offerings & Events
Including classes, circles, and new writing I’m finally ready to share.

This work is for the ones who feel emotionally aware but still stuck, spiritually open but craving grounding, ready to stop looping and start integrating.

You don’t need another manifestation technique. You need space to tell the truth.

And honesty, as I’m continuously learning, is the real beginning of healing.

You can explore the new site here.

Here’s to the next leg of this incredible journey.

Xo

It’s wild to realize that another year is about to become a memory.

This one, especially, feels bookmarked—marked by moments I know I’ll return to again and again.

A solo birthday date at the spa. Staying at my mom’s house during the wildfires. Debating whether I should go to Lebanon amidst ongoing political crises… and choosing, last minute, to go anyway, which became yet another reminder of why you can’t let fear make your decisions for you.

And last—but certainly not least—writing my next book.

In February, I began laboring my next baby: Dancing With My Shadow: A Cosmic Call Back to Self.

At first, the intention was simple. I wanted to gather my research and lived findings around the shadow and its intersection with astrology—work that has been foundational in my own healing and deeply influential in my work with clients.

But it didn’t stay simple for long.

As I began writing, it became clear that this book was asking something much deeper of me.

It’s been nearly 10 years since my first book, Let That Shit Go: A Journey to Forgiveness, Healing and Understanding Love, was released. And yes—I’m still stubborn. I still hold onto things longer than I maybe should.

What I hadn’t fully admitted until now was that I’d also been living in a kind of writer’s block all those years. Not because I didn’t have anything to say—I always have something to say—but because I had a very specific idea of what my next book was “supposed to” be.

I thought it would be the magical, redemptive love story. The tale of finally finding the man of my dreams. The proof that enduring all the pain beforehand had earned me a romantic, happily-ever-after ending.

But that story never arrived.

Instead, I went to the Underworld.

I studied the patterns—my patterns. The unconscious behaviors that kept leading me toward familiar heartbreak. I faced the dragons I once believed were imprisoning me in a life I didn’t want, only to realize they were actually guarding me—protecting me from experiencing anything beyond what I had learned to survive.

My Major Arcana card for 2025 was The Devil, and I met the Devil this year more than once.

I met the Devil within.

The part of myself that distorted perception to preserve familiar narratives. The part that whispered old stories into my ear to keep me looping in cycles I was desperate to escape. The part that mistook attachment for truth, and fear for intuition.

The work I do with many of you is nothing I haven’t done with myself first. And I’m realizing now that so many of you have witnessed this entire journey in real time—through podcasting (which began back in 2006), my writing, my social media, my books, or simply my digital footprint.

Dancing With My Shadow is the culmination of that trajectory.

There was a part of myself that felt deeply ashamed to write again. Nearly 10 years after publicly sharing intimate, messy, and vulnerable experiences around love… only to still be single?

I told myself my voice had lost credibility. That I no longer had permission to speak about something that continued to slip through my fingers.

I felt like a failure.

But what I see now is that Let That Shit Go was my initiation—perhaps even a humiliation ritual—ushering me into what would become the most pivotal cycle of my life: my priestesshood.

Shortly after that book’s release, the mystic within me emerged. Because the journey I was truly on was never about finding a husband.

It was about finding myself.

Calling her back. Recovering lost pieces. Traveling through time, memory, and the unseen to finally arrive—fully—here.

What’s a greater love story than that?

I’ve long been on the receiving end of people’s projections. She’s pretty, charming, smart—she must have it easy.

People hate when you don’t look like what you’ve been through.

And when you’re an artist—something that took me a long time to reclaim—you cannot create without experience. Art is born from raw emotion, from visceral memories, from the imprints life leaves on your nervous system and soul.

To create, you have to live. You have to love. You have to feel the full spectrum so that you have something real to draw from later.

I’ve done that. And I’m still doing it.

Dancing With My Shadow won’t be another diary of my life. I’ve offered the public more than enough access over the years, and as I get older, privacy is something I hold with reverence.

What this book will offer is insight into what was operating beneath the surface—why the relational patterns you read about in Let That Shit Go kept repeating. The unconscious wounds. The inherited narratives. The self-sabotage. The fears.

The internal prison built in the name of safety—one that kept me protected, yet confined from the very life I claimed I wanted. A golden cage is still a cage.

And how astrology became the language that helped me name what my mind kept protecting me from seeing—revealing the cycles, archetypes, and timing of lessons I was living long before I understood them.

My hope is that this book finds its way into your hands at the perfect time—and that it becomes a springboard for the conversations I’ve been waiting to have with the public. Conversations that give us permission to be messy, complex, chaotic, and inconvenient.

Because only then can we understand what brought us here in the first place.

And finally, be free.

Xo

You know how we’re always talking about slowing down, listening to your body, and actually tending to yourself?

Today, I want to show you one of the easiest, most underrated ways to do that—which happens to also be my favorite.

For years now, I’ve taken bath time quite seriously. I make sure to set a vibe, set intentions, and let the salts, oils and bubbles create a sanctuary in order for me to return back to center.

People used to laugh at it…until they tried it.

These are the types of baths that feel like you’re stepping into a portal. The kind that melt the noise off your nervous system. The kind that makes you remember your softness, your worthiness, and your divinity.

Historically, baths have always been more than cleanliness. Across time and space, water has been treated as divine.

The Romans built entire temples around bathing. The Japanese turned soaking into a spiritual practice. Ancient Greeks believed warm water opened the soul, not just the pores.

And even in myth, goddesses were said to bathe to restore their power and intuition.

Some people think baths are just soaking in your own filth, and what a missed opportunity that is.

Because with just a few intentional shifts, they become something sacred—a place where your energy resets, your intuition gets clearer, and your body finally exhales in a way it hasn’t in weeks.

If you haven’t had a bath that feels like a ceremony yet, don’t worry. You’re about to.

Let’s get into the 6 bath rituals you didn’t know you needed, but your spirit has definitely been craving…

To get the most out of these rituals, give yourself permission to set the vibe first. I’m always about setting a vibe, and the key is to activate the senses.

Clear off the counter. Sweep the energy of the room. Light something that warms the air—a candle, incense, or your favorite shower mist. And if music helps you drop in, include the corresponding playlists below.

Most importantly, let your intention lead. If you feel pulled to add flowers, crystals, prayers, or silence, honor that.

The ritual begins the moment you start preparing the space.

Now, let’s get to the good stuff.

The Moonlight Goddess Glow Bath
This is for softness, hydration, emotional soothing, and gentle aura clearing

Ingredients

• 1 cup coconut milk (canned, full-fat)

• ½ cup Epsom salt

• 1 tbsp honey

• 5–7 drops lavender essential oil

• A handful of dried rose petals or fresh rose

• Optional: clear quartz or selenite placed outside the tub for ambiance

Why it feels divine

• Coconut milk adds velvety hydration

• Honey softens and lightly conditions the skin

• Lavender + rose energetically soothe and ground your aura

Frequencies: 396 Hz • 528 Hz • 639 Hz

Potential Playlist:

1. Moonlit Waves – 528Hz Heart Opening Ambient

2. Lavender Dreams – Soft Piano + 396Hz Pad

3. Rose Quartz Breath – 639Hz Harmonic Tones

4. Night Petals – Ethereal Vocals & Chimes

5. Lunar Glow – Slow Ambient Drift

The Solar Goddess Radiance Bath
This is for confidence, vitality, energetic purification, and smoothing the skin

Ingredients

• ½ cup pink Himalayan salt

• ¼ cup jojoba or sweet almond oil

• Zest of 1 lemon or orange

• 6–8 drops neroli or sweet orange essential oil

Why it feels divine

• Citrus scents uplift mood and “brighten” your energy

• Jojoba oil nourishes and adds a subtle glow

• Himalayan salt supports gentle energetic clearing

Frequencies: 432 Hz • 852 Hz • 963 Hz

Potential Playlist:

1. Golden Aura – 432Hz Warm Resonance

2. Rise of the Sun Priestess – Uplifting Pads

3. Fire in the Heart – 852Hz Transformation Tones

4. Radiant Core – 963Hz Crystal Frequencies

5. Solar Bloom – Light, Bright Ambient Pulse

The Forest Priestess Aura-Cleansing Bath
This is for grounding, energetic reset, clarity, and hydrated skin

Ingredients

• 1 cup Epsom salt or magnesium flakes

• 1 tbsp oat flour (or a handful of oats in a muslin bag)

• 10 drops cedarwood, eucalyptus or tea tree essential oil

• A handful of fresh or dried rosemary

• Optional: a smoky quartz crystal nearby

Why it feels divine

• Cedar/pine create a calm, grounded, forest-temple feel

• Oats soothe and soften the skin

• Rosemary is traditionally used for energetic protection and renewal

Frequencies: 396 Hz • 444 Hz • 741 Hz

Potential Playlist:

1. Cedar Temple – Forest Ambience + 444Hz

2. Green Heart – Gentle Drums & Grounding Pads

3. Whispers in the Pines – 741Hz Clearing Tones

4. Roots & Resin – Deep Earth Drone

5. Breath of the Trees – Healing Winds

Aphrodite’s Luxury Rose & Vanilla Milk Bath
This is for sensuality, self-love, silkiness, and aura softening

Ingredients

• 2 cups warm whole milk or buttermilk (or plant milk with a splash of oil)

• 1 tbsp of real vanilla extract

• 1 tbsp rosewater

• 1 tbsp sweet almond or argan oil

• Dried rosebuds

• 5 drops rose absolute or geranium essential oil

Why it feels divine

• Milk baths are naturally softening

• Rose works beautifully for emotional and energetic heart-opening

• Vanilla warms and comforts the senses

Frequencies: 528 Hz • 639 Hz • 285 Hz

Potential Playlist:

1. Aphrodite Rising – 528Hz Romantic Pads

2. Petal Soft – Light Guitar & Rose-Toned Vocals

3. Heart of Honey – 639Hz Gentle Bliss Track

4. Vanilla Skies – Slow, Warm Ambient

5. Milk & Roses – Dreamy Femme Soundscape

The Ocean Priestess Saltwater Renewal Bath
This is for deep cleansing of the aura, release, and rejuvenation

Ingredients

• 1 cup dead sea salt

• ½ cup baking soda

• 10 drops eucalyptus essential oil

• A few drops of blue chamomile or lavender

• Optional: floating white flowers (gardenia, jasmine, or even simple white petals)

Why it feels divine

• Dead Sea salt is mineral-rich and feels like a spa-level soak

• Eucalyptus “opens up” your energy field and refreshes the senses

• Baking soda softens the water and the skin

Frequencies: 417 Hz • 528 Hz • 852 Hz

Potential Playlist:

1. Tides of Release – 417Hz Ocean Pad

2. Saltwater Spirit – Waves + Ethereal Vocals

3. Blue Renewal – 528Hz Cleansing Tones

4. Sea of Light – 852Hz Clarity Frequencies

5. Rebirth Current – Subtle Swells & Bells

The Soft Goddess Silk Skin Oat & Jasmine Bath
This is for ultra-soft skin, relaxation, subtle energetic uplift

Ingredients

• ½ cup colloidal oats or finely ground oats

• ¼ cup jojoba or avocado oil

• 6 drops jasmine essential oil

• 1 tbsp honey

• A handful of dried chamomile or jasmine flowers

Why it feels divine

• Oats + oil make the skin feel like silk

• Jasmine brings that high-feminine, divine-goddess energy

• Honey lightly moisturizes and soothes

Frequencies: 432 Hz • 528 Hz • 639 Hz

Potential Playlist:

1. Silk Petals – 432Hz Feminine Ambient

2. Jasmine Breath – Whisper-Like Vocals

3. Soft Bloom – 528Hz Heart Glow Track

4. Pillow of Light – Slow Dream Pad

5. Morning Garden – Sweet, Gentle Instrumental

I hope at least one of these rituals feels like a new door into yourself—a place you can revisit whenever life gets loud or you need a moment of beauty.

And listen, even a 5-minute bath can be medicine when you approach it with intention.

Your body will always thank you for it.

Xo

This season, gifts don’t have to be flashy or over-the-top—they can be soulful, healing, and deeply rooted in intention.

For this year’s gift guide, I wanted to share some things that I’ve personally enjoyed or brands that I support. These items (even the most generic and mundane) can feel like rituals and medicine should you choose to honor them in that way.

As you’ll continue to learn through this journey, everything is what you make it. That is your power.

Each item here is a little invitation for someone you care about (or for yourself) to lean into deeper rest, presence, and transformation.

Return to Self: Journals and Books
This is for my fellow readers and journalers. Take a look at some of my creations that are meant to help with your intention setting, mind dumps and spiritual connection—from Shadow Work to sparks of creativity—while also taking in some of my own lessons through my books, Let That Shit Go and The Problem With Dating.

TBD Products: Cannabis + CBD
Imagine gifting the kind of calm that doesn’t come from running away but from coming home to yourself. CBD and cannabis wellness products can be powerful allies for anxiety, pain, and nervous-system reset—offering a soft, natural way to ease tension and lean into rest. Regardless of how you choose to consume, these can become part of a ritual: a small daily practice of self-care, surrender, and alignment. Use code MYSTICBRU15.

MéLa & Co.: Hair Therapy
MéLa & Co. is all about clean luxury rooted in botanical brilliance. Their formulas are salon-grade but gentle on your system—color-safe, vegan, free of parabens and harsh synthetics. Think of gifting someone (or treating yourself) to a hair ritual that feels indulgent, but also deeply nourishing: hydration, shine, strength, and a little self-love in every wash.

This Is Each Element: Astrology Care Packages
Is there a budding astrologer in your life? Maybe it’s you? This Is Each Element offers intentional care packages designed to honor our interconnectedness and personal well-being based on your most dominant element in your birth chart. Whether it’s an oracle deck, some Florida water, a unique herbal tea or another surprise gift, these curated care packages will undoubtedly check all the boxes for the cosmic enthusiast in your life.

Tridevia Golden Foil Tarot: Tarot Deck
Did you know that there’s a belief that your first tarot deck should be a gift from someone else? Now, I don’t always believe that, but if given the chance to do it—why not? I am incredibly picky when it comes to card decks, but this Tridevia Golden Foil Tarot deck will surely be a present to remember. From the gorgeous artwork designs to the effortless shuffle of the cards, this divination tool will surely create an empowering partnership with whoever chooses to partner with it. Use code BRUNA10 with your purchase.

Rosaries Reimagined: Modern Day Mirror Rosaries
These rosaries are not about relying on a tool—they’re about reminding us that the divine lives inside us. Crafted with intention, the Modern Day Mirror rosaries serve as thoughtful companions on a journey of faith, reclamation, and inner expansion. They’re a beautiful (and modern) reminder of your worth, your prayer life, and your sacred inner world.

Almond Muse: Women’s Apparel
Whether it’s a cozy loungewear set, a flowing dress, or a delicate cami, these garments remind you that your body is sacred, and comfort is a form of self-respect. As someone who used to think wardrobe was superficial, I’ve come to realize that fashion is one of our strongest forms of self-expression. It affects your mood, your energy and the world around you, so why not use it as another art form? Use code BFSALE426138 with your purchase.

Tarot Stack: Indie Tarot and Oracle Card Decks
I know tarot can be a little intimidating sometimes—at least it was for me. When I began my card reading journey, I purchased an Oracle deck that caught my eye instead of jumping into tarot right away. The artwork was pleasing, the messages were light and insightful and it piqued my curiosity while also helping me strengthen my self-trust. At Tarot Stack, you get a number of options when it comes to various Indie published oracle decks (and some amazing tarot decks) that can add magick to your readings. You’ll also be supporting indie artists, which is always a win!

Return to Self: Educational
Give the gift of knowledge and introspection this year with my various e-books and workshops! Whether it’s a deep dive into the unconscious with my Deconstructing Shadow Work e-book or an introduction to the cosmos within you with my Astro Basics e-book, you can stimulate the mind of your favorite intellectual.

Ormus Gold x Shilajit Honey: Supplements
This is the kind of gift that feels like a golden ritual. Ormus Gold fused with shilajit honey becomes a deeply nourishing, alchemical tonic—one that supports vitality, clarity, and subtle energetic awakening. It’s the kind of jammy, luminous sweetener that invites you to slow down, savor each moment, and feel a little more connected to something vast and mysterious.

Primal Queen (Beef Organ Superfoods): Supplements
Primal Queen brings ancestral wisdom into modern wellness—with nutrient-dense beef organ capsules specifically formulated for women. These superfoods are packed with vitamins and minerals like B12, iron, zinc, and CoQ10, supporting energy, hormone balance, and vitality at the root level. It’s a powerful, clean-source supplement that feels like returning to something, not fixing something—a true gift of strength and nourishment, grounded in our ancestral lineage.

If nothing on this list piqued your interest, take a look at my Amazon storefront for even more gift ideas!

Xo

We’re officially in the part of the year where everything gets quieter—the light, the energy, the external noise.

And while most people fight that shift, spiritually sensitive folks tend to feel something else happening…

Your intuition gets louder. Your dreams get weirder. Your body becomes more receptive. Your inner world pulls you in.

This isn’t random. It’s seasonal.

As the days grow shorter, the natural world rests, retreats, and roots down.

Trees pull their energy inward. Animals slow their movement or hibernate. The Earth itself becomes still.

But us, humans? Not so much.

We keep speeding up, prioritizing getting everything we can possibly get done done before the end of the year.

Your nervous system, however, knows that the darkness is medicine—the environment where intuition, healing, and inner clarity finally get to come out and play.

There are a few reasons you might feel more psychic or “open” during this season—with less external stimulation, you naturally start listening to your inner landscape, so you’re focusing more energy inward.

If you’re sensitive, you can feel the veil being thin during darker months. Your dreams, synchronicities, gut instincts all become louder.

You can become an emotional sponge, and while that can be uncomfortable, it’s also a channel for intuition.

And, of course, the shadow themes rise up to the surface, reminding you that intuition thrives where honesty lives.

It is Scorpio season, after all.

So, if you’ve been feeling extra sensitive as the seasons change, it’s not by accident. You’re just that tuned in to the overall energy of the natural order.

If you feel inclined, try to spend some time in complete darkness. Let the stillness and silence lead you back to yourself.

Put your hand over your heart, and ask yourself, “What truth am I finally ready to hear?”

Whatever comes up—even if it’s quiet, small, or strange—is worth noticing.

Remember that your intuition speaks first. Doubt speaks second.

Learn to catch the first voice.

Xo

If You Want to Go Deeper…

This week’s subscription post was a deep dive into Pluto medicine and your personal underworld cycles with journaling prompts to help you work with the shadow instead of fearing it.

One of my guilty pleasures is looking up the synastry aspects between celebrity couples (as you may know).

When I heard that Jhené Aiko and Big Sean broke up after 10 years together, allegedly because she wanted to put a ring on it, and he didn’t.

As someone who has witnessed their relationship from afar for years, I was so curious to see what the stars were saying about their energy together.

And just as I suspected—it has karmic lessons written all over it.

Jhené with her Pisces stellium can sometimes have her rose-colored glasses on when it comes to love (as Pisces energy tends to do), and Big Sean’s Cancer moon hints at some fear around being emotionally smothered.

Their Taurus Venuses would suggest that long-term commitment is ideal, but in its shadow, Taurus energy will ride the long haul simply for convenience—even if it’s not truly satisfied.

There’s plenty of markers within their astrology charts to support that they were meant to experience each other in this life, and have played huge roles in helping each other face their shadows, activate spiritual awakenings, and heal any lessons that were ready to be transformed.

Watch my full reading of their synastry chart here.

If you’re interested in getting an intuitive birth chart analysis or a relationship alchemy reading with your partner, book your session today!

Xo

With Diane Keaton’s recent passing, the world mourned a woman whose blend of wit, elegance, independence and eccentricity made her one of Hollywood’s most singular forces.

But amid the tributes, one comment stood out—Al Pacino’s scroll-stopping confession to the Daily Mail that his biggest regret in his life is not marrying her.

Now, this made some people roll their eyes (perhaps because of personal memories of being the one who got away)…

… but for others, it was a poignant revelation—an echo of a love that had burned, flickered, and endured across decades.

Keaton and Pacino’s love story mirrors many others that almost but didn’t.

The relationships where love was definitely there, but for whatever reason, couldn’t root down, and the immense guilt that sets in when it’s too late to change the script.

Their connection reads like a celestial love story: magnetic, maddening, and profoundly karmic.

It was a love story written in the stars that was meant to shake them up, awaken their hearts and teach them about the beauty and grief that comes with love.

Keaton and Pacino met on the set of The Godfather in the early 1970s. A quirky California girl who was both dreamer and pragmatic, collides with a brooding New Yorker still climbing toward stardom. Their chemistry was instant but volatile, and their relationship unfolded in fits and starts across the filming of the trilogy.

Their love story was a push-pull dynamic, the kind that never fully lets go and yet doesn’t know how to stay. It was a bond that rattled the hidden shadows they each held around intimacy, emotional vulnerability, freedom and commitment.

Keaton once told People that she was “mad for him,” calling Pacino “the most charming man on earth.” Yet their love was never easy.

Pacino, famously reluctant to marry, struggled with commitment. “He was incapable of the kind of relationship I wanted,” Keaton admitted years later, though she said she’d “loved him deeply.” Pacino, for his part, reflected that he “wasn’t ready” back then—and now, as he looks back, “that’s my biggest regret.”

Their story—filled with attraction, distance, and unfinished longing—reads like an archetype of cosmic timing: two souls deeply entwined, yet not destined to stay tethered in this lifetime.

Keaton and Pacino’s charts read like a screenplay of love that could never find its stable ground in the material world, yet never dissolved in spirit. Their synastry reveals a relationship defined by tension, attraction, and an almost psychic understanding—the kind of bond that outlives circumstance.

Her Capricorn sun trined his Taurus sun, creating natural affinity and warmth for one another. This shows two people who recognized each other immediately. Both in the Earth element, they got each other in ways others didn’t, and their temperaments were in harmony, even if their emotional languages clashed.

Yet Pacino’s Taurus Sun squaring Keaton’s Aquarius moon is the crack in the mirror—the eternal tug between masculine expression and feminine need. It created chemistry that was electric, but also exhausting. The dance of “I adore you, but I don’t know how to meet you fully.”

His Sagittarius moon conjunct her Sagittarius Mercury gave them a powerful emotional-intellectual bond. They could talk endlessly and feel seen. The emotional intimacy gave them an uncanny emotional telepathy. But Pacino’s Aries Mercury squaring Keaton’s Capricorn Venus, and his Gemini Venus opposing her Mercury, created a feedback loop of miscommunication and words that wounded instead of soothed. They could feel immense affection one moment and complete misunderstanding the next. It’s the signature of lovers who inspire one another deeply yet constantly misfire in expression.

Then there’s the spellbinding charge of Pacino’s Gemini Venus trine Keaton’s Libra Jupiter, and his Venus conjunct her Uranus—textbook aspects for instant attraction, creative collaboration, and a spark that never quite fades. She expanded his world (Jupiter), and he electrified hers (Uranus). Their chemistry was fated, almost cinematic, which is why their on-screen passion in The Godfather films felt so real, and perhaps why it felt easier to portray onscreen than off.

But under that glamour ran deeper karmic threads: Pacino’s Saturn square Keaton’s Pluto and his Pluto in her 12th house suggest profound lessons around control, loss, and emotional surrender. This wasn’t just love. It was soul work.

His Venus also fell in her 8th House adding an undercurrent of erotic intensity and emotional vulnerability resulting in a connection that transformed them both, even if it could never stabilize. The 8th house governs intimacy, transformation, and the mysteries of love that defy logic. And with his Eros sitting right next to her Venus, this is pure alchemy. It’s “till death do us part” energy, even if they never made it to the altar.

The placement of Keaton’s Saturn and Mars in Pacino’s 12th house of what’s hidden, along with her Black Moon Lilith in his 4th house of home and family, evokes the theme of shadow intimacy. She stirred something raw and ancestral in him, feelings he may not have fully known how to hold. Her presence illuminated his hidden emotional terrain, and her absence would later haunt it.

Despite their chaotic road with love, Pacino’s Saturn trine Keaton’s Venus gave it endurance. Even when apart, the affection never truly died. But Saturn also brings fear, hesitation, and the weight of “what if,” and its square to her Pluto points to karmic friction—lessons of control, surrender, and the pain of loving someone you can’t possess.

It’s the kind of astrological dance that feels fated, not accidental. The chemistry was undeniable, but the growth came through letting go.

Pacino’s chart reveals a man born for contradiction. His Mars-Venus conjunction in Gemini makes him endlessly curious in love—drawn to connection, yet restless once it’s achieved. His Sagittarius Moon opposing that Venus creates a heart that craves freedom as much as it craves intimacy. With Chiron in Cancer in the 12th house, there’s an unconscious wound around emotional safety and the fear of being engulfed or of losing himself within love.

His Sun conjunct Saturn in Taurus gives him self-protective armor creating tenderness that comes with caution. And with Pluto at zero degrees in the 12th house, there’s deep transformation through relationships that feel karmic, yet too heavy to sustain. He’s drawn to women who awaken his shadows—and Keaton, with her Scorpio rising and powerful Lilith placement, did exactly that.

Meanwhile, Keaton’s chart mirrors this magnetism and mirrors his fears. Her Scorpio Ascendant conjunct Black Moon Lilith makes her both alluring and intimidating. She was a woman who embodied emotional truth and independence. Her Moon in Aquarius opposing Pluto in Leo creates emotional intensity balanced by a need for autonomy. Love, for her, had to be electric, alive, and real—but not confining.

With Uranus in Gemini in the 7th house, she was destined for unconventional relationships, drawn to partners who challenge her freedom and embody the intensity she may have not allowed herself to embody. Yet her Venus in Capricorn squaring Neptune in Libra hints at idealizing love, falling for the dream more than the reality. And with Mars and Saturn in Cancer squaring her Chiron and Jupiter in Libra, she often carried the emotional labor of love, nurturing others while quietly healing her own heart.

Together, their charts tell a story of mirrored wounds and mirrored desires. Two artists reflecting each other’s light and shadow, never quite finding the middle ground.

Now, as Pacino reflects on a love that slipped away, their story takes on the tone of a past-life echo. One chapter closing, another perhaps waiting to begin elsewhere.

When Pacino said that not marrying Keaton was his biggest regret, it wasn’t nostalgia. It was the painful acknowledgment of unfinished soul business. Their charts show a love that never needed a contract to be real, but may have always longed for one to feel complete.

In many ways, Keaton was his mirror. She was the one who revealed where his soul met resistance, and the one whose loss would open it.

In astrology, we often say some souls come into our lives not to stay forever, but to awaken something eternal.

For Keaton and Pacino, that might have been the truth. Two cinematic icons whose connection transcended scripts, timelines, and now, even lifetimes.

This is part of a new monthly series where I’ll dissect the astrology within iconic love stories. If you have a couple you’d love to see featured, please share their names in the comments below!

It’s the quiet shame that surfaces when you realize how much you long to depend on someone—and how foreign or unsafe that can feel.

For some of us (including myself), independence became armor. It was how we learned to feel safe, to stay in control, to keep from being disappointed.

But after a while, that armor starts to isolate us. We start mistaking self-protection for strength, and self-reliance for worth.

As I mentioned earlier in the week, I recently went through a plot twist that allowed me to experience a lot of pivotal reflection—some of which was ancestral.

Seemingly, out of nowhere on Friday night, I felt stabbing pain in my side that constricted my breathing. My muscles started to spasm, and I couldn’t take a deep breath without feeling excruciating pain.

Going through that alone scared me.

Given the wisdom I’ve acquired up until this point, I knew that whatever I was experiencing wasn’t just about poor posture or tweaking a muscle. It was deeper than that. Something was trying to get my attention.

When I began to apply all the tools I had—intuitive insight, Reiki, somatic therapy—the storylines correlating to that pain began to unravel.

War, pain, betrayal, heartache, loneliness, sadness, neglect, fear, grief…some of which wasn’t even mine, all began to come up to the surface.

I’ve been very open about my journey, and my hyper-independence is no secret to anyone who has witnessed even a chapter of my story…

But through this experience, I noticed that armor of mine cracking—and I realized that maybe, the real strength is in allowing myself to need, to trust, to let someone in.

Watch below:

@mysticbru#shadowwork #relationships

Tiktok failed to load.

Enable 3rd party cookies or use another browser

For as long as we can remember, the cosmos has been divided neatly into 12.

Twelve zodiac signs. Twelve months in a year. Twelve disciples.

Twelve became the number of order, of structure, of completion…but hidden in plain sight is a story that has always belonged to 13.

As the collective awakens to forgotten truth, this 13th key is rising back into our consciousness.

It speaks to the forgotten healer, the suppressed feminine, and the hidden wisdom that patriarchy once deemed too dangerous to honor.

The dots began to connect, and I wanted to bring together three threads of this mystery: Ophiuchus, the number 13, and Mary Magdalene.

Many of you have likely heard whispers of a 13th zodiac sign—Ophiuchus, the serpent bearer.

Astronomically, the Sun does pass through this constellation from November 29 to December 17. Yet, it was excluded from the traditional Western zodiac.

Why? Because astrology in its current form honors the twelve-part division of the ecliptic—a perfect, orderly system. Ophiuchus didn’t fit neatly, so it was left out.

And yet, the symbolism of Ophiuchus is profound.

The serpent it holds represents healing, renewal, and awakening. Myth associates Ophiuchus with Asclepius, god of medicine, who could even raise the dead.

In other words, Ophiuchus embodies the archetype of the healer, the mystic, the alchemist. Its exclusion is not unlike the way serpent wisdom itself was demonized in the Eden story—turning a guide to awakening into a symbol of sin.

To understand Ophiuchus, we must also look at the energy of the number 13.

• In ancient traditions, 13 was a sacred number tied to the Moon: 13 lunar cycles in a year, 13 menstrual cycles in the average woman’s body.

• Friday the 13th was once celebrated as a day of the Goddess, honoring Venus (whose sacred day is Friday) and feminine mysteries of love, fertility, and sovereignty.

• But as patriarchal systems rose, 13 was labeled “unlucky,” even evil. What was once sacred was painted as dangerous.

The demonization of 13 was really the demonization of the feminine principle—mystery, cycles, intuition, and the power of creation.

This same pattern of erasure appears in spiritual history.

Mary Magdalene, long vilified as a prostitute, is increasingly recognized as a teacher, priestess, and bearer of hidden wisdom. Some traditions call her the 13th disciple, the one who completed the circle.

And just like Ophiuchus, Magdalene was written out of the official narrative.

Her wisdom of sacred union, wholeness, and the balance of masculine and feminine was too disruptive to the patriarchal order.

She too became a symbol of what was repressed—but not destroyed.

Now, something is shifting.

Ophiuchus is being talked about again, stirring collective curiosity. Friday the 13th is being reclaimed as a day of the Goddess, a time of empowerment.

Mary Magdalene is being honored once more as a keeper of gnosis and the Divine Feminine. And the number 13 itself is being restored as a symbol of sacred power, not fear.

Each of these is a facet of the same truth: what was hidden is returning.

The 13th key is not about disorder—it’s about wholeness. It asks us to reclaim what was excluded, to embrace what doesn’t fit neatly, to honor the healing wisdom of the serpent, the feminine, the forgotten.

I invite you to ask yourself:

• Where have I suppressed or hidden my own 13th key—the part of me that doesn’t fit into neat boxes?

• What wisdom in me has been demonized, dismissed, or misunderstood?

• How can I reclaim my serpent, my Magdalene, my forgotten sign?

The return of 13 is not just happening in the stars—it is happening within us.

When we embrace it, we step into deeper wholeness, restoring balance between the masculine and feminine, the known and the hidden, the orderly and the wild.

Xo

I must admit—I’ve been an emotional mess lately.

Aside from being on my cycle and the intensity of this eclipse portal, memories of someone who played such an important role in my life have been flooding my mind and heart.

But before I tell you more about that…what was going on in your life around March of 2015?

This upcoming Virgo New Moon and partial solar eclipse at 29 degrees will be a direct response to a Pisces eclipse at 29 degrees that happened during that time—specifically March 20, 2015.

That year didn’t hold too much significance for me. At least not at the top of my mind, although I can’t deny that my memory has become hazy at best.

However, the presence of my late mentor Scott Carter came rushing through one night as I was trying to sleep, and suddenly I’m sobbing in bed and processing grief I didn’t even know I was still carrying.

What I’m about to tell you is not just a nice story. It’s an example of how to follow the breadcrumbs of the Universe. As I always say—magick is subtle. It’s not pulling a rabbit out of a hat. It’s following those quiet whispers from your intuition, that end up leading you exactly where you’re meant to be.

I can feel a huge chapter of my life coming to a close, but I couldn’t tell you what that is exactly. Regardless, Scott seems to have his hands all up in it somehow.

I met Scott Carter in 2009. I remember it like it was yesterday.

My radio professor at Pasadena City College asked me to come to his classroom during lunch one day to meet someone—and that someone was a man who resembled Santa Clause and had a booming voice that you could feel vibrate off your skin.

Scott was teaching a live radio class that summer, and my professor thought I would be a great addition to the class.

I felt differently.

For years, I would take classes every quarter in order to complete my transfer to University, and that was going to be my first summer off. I expressed that, but said I’d think about it.

I couldn’t tell you what led me to joining the class—but I’m so glad I did.

I hosted a show called The Dish, which was all about love, dating and relationships (of course). I learned how to use a soundboard, check time cues and work the mic. When it came time to do my first live show, I was terribly nervous, and Scott knew that.

Afterwards, he led me outside the class to give me feedback and said, “I never wanna hear that nervous shit again. You’re a natural and you’re great at this!”

That was him in a nutshell. When he saw potential, he’d do everything in his power to nourish it. He poured life into the students he took under his wing—including me. And I don’t know if he ever knew how much I needed that.

After that moment, he became my mentor. Not in a way of telling me what to do, but by giving me perspective and being someone who always acknowledged and validated my work.

He celebrated with me when I got my job at E!, he told me my relationship at the time may not work out because he’ll get jealous (he was right), and he would read every single blog post I’d write for The Problem With Dating and share his feedback while always sneaking in a personal anecdote from his own dating history—which was plenty.

Scott lost his wife to cancer near the beginning of their marriage. When he talked about Ruth, his eyes would light up. I knew this man experienced it—he found love that people search lifetimes for. And the pain of having that taken away hurt my heart.

Despite being nearly 30 years my senior, this Irish, Aries man, who had quite the history—from being a medic in the Navy to a radio host that conducted 7,000 interviews in just a couple of years—was my friend. He saw me in a way many didn’t, and maybe he knew that, too.

He was like a father to me.

When I learned that this upcoming eclipse was connected to March 20, 2015…I started digging (as any journalist would, of course). It seemed important, especially since a few days prior, I found a penny on the ground dated 2015. The Universe was getting my attention.

I scrolled back in my photo album to see if there was any imagery that could jog my memory—nothing.

I went back in my calendar—nothing.

That’s when I decided to check my emails, and when I began to half-regret my decision, because how the hell am I going to do this—my eyes darted to a folder labeled “Scott Carter.”

After Scott passed, I put all of our emails together in a folder so that I could easily reminisce when I wanted to, and I just knew that’s where I was going to find whatever I was looking for.

Sure enough, there was an email dated March 20, 2015 titled, “Lyrics” about a song called “Bernadette”:

Below are excerpts -- attached are the full lyrics. It ain't Shakespeare -- but the simple passion is something I haven't heard in a long time. The Four Tops are a 60's Motown group -- this is a song you'll hear periodically but only recognize the sound. I admit I don't hear a lot of new music -- so I hope some plain romance seeps through. When I read your blog I get the sense this is something your generation just doesn't "get." Lovers should praise each other -- or at the very least let the other know what they feel.

And when I speak of you I see envy in other men's eyes …they'd give the world and all they own for just one moment we have known.

In your arms I find the kind of peace of mind the world is searching for, but you, you give me the joy this heart of mine has always been longing for.

I treasure you and place you high above, for the only joy in life is to be loved. You mean more to me, than a woman was ever meant to be.

Oh, but that’s not all…

The next day, he followed up with quite a lengthy email about my blog posts and the men I’ve encountered, how Benjamin Franklin was quite a womanizer during the American Revolution, and how intimacy and pleasure doesn’t go way as you get older…it just changes.

And then he said this:

You are a beautiful and magnificent young woman -- but 30 is gonna hit you faster than you can imagine. You'll weather that just fine -- but then there's 40 -- and you'll wonder how that got here. By then your magnificence will be absolutely radiant. Fifty? That's like the stealth bomber. If you're on Colorado Boulevard for the Rose Parade you don't know it's there until it's over your head. At 50 you will be an absolutely spectacular woman -- but the men you look at so deliciously now will be considering you with the same thought of me having a sex life. To be fair -- we ain't gonna video it either -- the thought of that visual is equally disturbing to me.

But the substance -- the truth of it -- is simple: who you're with -- how it feels -- and what it means. A friend who has known you for 50 years -- stood by you for 50 years -- and still cares for you after 50 years of ups & downs is significant. The physicality of it it is just another manifestation of the old phrase "The pleasure of your company." There is no substitute for simply being there. For all those years Ruth & I were together the simple feel of her foot on my calf as we slept was more powerful that anything we could have said. Emotionally we were home. As Hanks said in Sleepless in Seattle -- "Like no home I've ever known."

You have not had the luxury of longevity -- you simply haven't lived that many years. I ache for you to meet "The Guy" -- the one who will be there for you over decades -- who will love you when everything turns to shit -- when you're faced with terrible unexpected events -- and get through them together. Someone who won't give a shit about how you look but how you ARE -- somebody you can count on -- somebody who wants to give you pleasure. I've had that luxury many times over -- if it all stops tomorrow I still won't believe how my good fortune lasted so long…

I hope I live long enough to see you experience that. Not the Old Age part -- I won't live that long -- but to see you with a true partner. It's no accident that the song that resonated with Ruth and me was Stand By Me.

Scott died that December in his sleep.

Sometimes my tears feel selfish, rooted in the bitter knowing that he never got to experience that, yet hoping that someday, he will, from wherever he is. And perhaps, he’s pulling some strings to help make it happen.

I always tell clients to look for those God winks, the moments that are so easily missed, but matter the most. These are the moments that remind you you’re not doing it alone, and that even those who have transitioned are helping guide you in ways you may not even realize.

Scott was and always will be an angel of mine, and even though he’s no longer physically here, he keeps guiding me, teaching me and reminding me of what matters most.

One of the last emails he wrote me, “This one is worth reading…” was a story about judgement, and I’m going to end this by sharing it with you:

A lovely little girl was holding an apple in each hand. Her mum came in and softly asked her little daughter with a smile; my sweetie, could you give your mum one of your two apples?

The girl looked up at her mum for some seconds, then she suddenly took a quick bite on one apple, and then quickly on the other.

The mum felt the smile on her face freeze. She tried hard not to reveal her disappointment.

Then the little girl handed one of her bitten apples to her mum,and said: mummy, here you are. This is the sweeter one.

No matter who you are, how experienced you are, and how knowledgeable you think you are, always delay judgement.

Give others the privilege to explain themselves.

What you see may not be the reality. Never conclude for others.

Which is why we should never only focus on the surface and judge others without understanding them first.

Those who like to pay the bill, do so not because they are loaded but because they value friendship above money.

Those who take the initiative at work, do so not because they are stupid but because they understand the concept of responsibility.

Those who apologize first after a fight, do so not because they are wrong but because they value the people around them.

Those who are willing to help you, do so not because they owe you any thing but because they see you as a true friend.

Those who often text you, do so not because they have nothing better to do but because you are in their heart.

Those who take out time to chat with you, does not mean they are jobless or less busy, but they know the importance of keeping in touch.

One day, all of us will get separated from each other; we will miss our conversations of everything & nothing; the dreams that we had. Days will pass by, months, years, until this contact becomes rare...

One day our children will see our pictures and ask 'Who are these people?' And we will smile with invisible tears because a heart is touched with a strong word and you will say: 'IT WAS THEM THAT I HAD THE BEST DAYS OF MY LIFE WITH'.

Xo

If I’ve learned anything from my healing journey, it’s that sometimes the simplest rituals can have the deepest impact. The ancients always knew this, and we’re finally getting around to remember.

And yet, sometimes the simplest rituals have been the hardest for me.

To be totally transparent, what may seem harder for other people on this journey (clocking their unconscious patterns, mindset work, emotional alchemy, etc) always came “easy” to me…

And what came “easy” to other people (being comfortable in their body, exercising, physical health and wellness) was harder for me.

I’d been hearing about shilajit resin for years now, but honestly couldn’t care less. Again, that kind of stuff didn’t interest me much. I was more focused on the archetypes of the collective unconscious.

However, when Natural Shilajit reached out asking if I’d be open to trying some of their products—specifically their X12 Ormus Gold and NutriHoney—I knew that was a sign that it was time to pivot my focus.

When I began researching these products, I laughed at the obvious God winks that were occurring…per yoosh.

Made with 24K food-grade gold and a trio of mineral-rich salts (Dead Sea, Pink Himalayan, and Red Hawaiian), their Ormus Gold is designed for those who seek purity and balance (hi, it’s me).

For centuries, Ormus minerals have been treasured for their connection to vitality and inner harmony. Just a few drops in your water, juice, or on their own can be a grounding addition to your daily rhythm.

It also came with a super cute amethyst necklace that honestly blew me away. I literally felt my head pulsate the second I put it on.

Now, when it comes to honey…I’ve always been a honey gal. I used to down packets of honey while working at Starbucks as a snack.

Each NutriHoney stick combines 0.5 grams of pure Shilajit with 4.5 grams of raw honey—a pairing used by ancient practitioners to enhance absorption and deliver minerals more effectively.

Together, they support energy, immunity, and focus, making them perfect for an afternoon pick-me-up or pre-workout boost.

I’m not gonna lie…the taste is earthy (if you catch my drift). But also, what do you expect? It’s potent plant medicine.

And because I’d love for you to also experience them both, here’s 10% off your order—just use the code MYSTICBRU at checkout.

I’m excited to see how this amplifies a part of my life I’ve honestly been neglecting. And if I’m going to practice what I preach, then it’s time to care for myself in ways that stretch me outside of my comfort zone.

Xo