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Another client shared that after struggling with sleep for months, she slept more deeply the night of her session than she had in ages, waking clearer and more rested. During her session, the light blue bowl aligned with the throat chakra would barely play. Later, when I asked if she felt comfortable speaking her truth or expressing herself, she admitted it was something she’d always struggled with. I could relate—my own thyroid cancer felt tied to years of silenced expression. The resonance, or lack of it, in that bowl felt like a mirror, reflecting her own journey back to her.

My teacher, Cassidy, had once shared with me that when a bowl resists playing, it can sometimes point to an area that is out of alignment or longing for attention. A few minutes into the session, I was watching this unfold in real time, the bowl itself echoing her difficulty in expression. It was absolutely fascinating!

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Over the years, I explored sound in different forms. I worked with Tibetan singing bowls and cherished the grounding resonance they brought. I was also gifted a healing wooden chime by my beloved shamanic mentor during my course of study, which became a treasured part of my practice. Each of these tools deepened my knowing that sound carries medicine, though I still felt an unspoken pull toward the crystalline tones of crystal singing bowls.

For years, I admired them from afar, feeling their call but never stepping fully into the practice. They were expensive, and with two kids and my shamanic training already unfolding, the timing never felt right. I told myself, not yet.

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I’ll never forget the crew of deaf kids from Gallaudet who showed up week after week. They would stand right in front of the massive speakers, raving their hearts out. They didn’t need to hear the music to experience it—they could feel it. That fascinated me. It planted a seed that sound is absolutely far more than just what reaches our ears.

Every note, every tone, carries a vibration that moves through us, shifting energy in ways we often can’t fully explain. Science is beginning to catch up with what many ancient traditions have always known: sound is medicine.

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I gazed around the space, asking my mom what else was meant to be with us. As I turned around, her cozy purple shawl was staring at me. I threw it over my shoulder and as I walked upstairs to be with my daughter, I saw a picture of the three of us in my mind's eye. I knew the one. Evelyn's 2nd birthday party. I grabbed it and walked out onto the porch.

Before wrapping myself in the shawl, I created a little altar on the table in front of us.

At the center were beautiful flowers I had arranged the weekend before at a brunch lovingly hosted by a dear friend for those of us who have lost our mommas. (ADD PICTURE) The flowers were already steeped in beauty and remembrance. Beside them stood a tall fairy statue—a Mother's Day gift from my husband and kids. It felt extra special because my momma adored her garden and filled it with all kinds of "chotchkes," including a fairy statue that blew kisses, just like this new one.

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This is why you hear so many people say “it’s a practice”. 

It’s a muscle that needs to be strengthened. Having a safer space to play and share your exploration is essential. That’s why I created the HEAR HER sisterhood, if ya wanna join us, click here. 

In a way, these healing sessions have become sacred breadcrumbs, leading me back to trusting my intuitive and divine connections again and again. 

And still, after all these years, I sometimes question what’s coming through, what I’m connecting to. 

This time was no different…

Mother Mary floated into the session, wrapping us both in her unconditional love, her expansive compassion, her quiet devotion to holding space.

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With bare feet on the soil and eyes wide open, I asked Spirit to speak to me through the music. I wasn’t looking for one specific song—I was simply opening to receive whatever held the message I most needed.

Every song that followed felt resonant, yet one wove in just a bit deeper. I knew it was the one meant not only for me, but for the collective. The one to share through this week’s reflection.

From the soil by the tree, I felt called to Meditation Rock. I laid my back down, heart to the stone, palms open and gently held by the Earth. Grandfather Sun warmed my skin. Breathing in rhythm with HER, the quiet came.

Then I heard the soft plucking of the guitar strings… and I knew. My heart squeezed, and hot tears welled. This was the one. It held me exactly where I was—held me in a way I didn’t even know I needed. My tears fell onto the Earth, a sacred gift of release.

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Today is my beloved friend Kristen’s first birthday in spirit. She’s no longer Earthside, but her presence, her essence, and her abundant love have not dimmed in the least. If anything, they’ve expanded.

I found myself drawn to Luna Garden, to my meditation rock beneath a dying tree—one that, like Kristen, has been slowly releasing its life force. This tree and I have been in quiet communion for years. It’s been a portal many times, holding space for tears, visions, healing, and release.

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We are the feelers, the healers, the space-holders. Those of us who are highly sensitive, intuitive, and deeply connected often carry more than we realize. We are affected—sometimes crippled—by the news, the heaviness of the world. Balance, for us, does not look like balance for others. And I prefer the word harmony anyway;) We walk between, holding space for the collective while also needing to tend our own energy.

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What I’ve discovered is that when we attune to the moon’s phases, we’re not just syncing with her rhythm—we’re reconnecting with the rhythm of our own bodies and spirits. Each phase offers something unique: a time to dream, to create, to release, and to rest. The moon’s wisdom is a profound teacher, always reminding me to slow down and honor the cycles within me.

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When people die, they leave this earthly plane. I believe some of their energy remains. We can connect with their energy. We receive signs and signals from them all the time if we’re open to it.

So often, we try to intellectualize why something appeared or happened.

What if we let go of needing to know? What if we trusted that when we see a butterfly and think of our grandmother, it’s a sign or a wink from her spirit? Or when you’re thinking of your deceased mother and you see a cardinal (which she told you she’d come back as), you allow yourself to feel that wink, that hug, that love, that connection?

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Music meditation is a practice of pausing, breathing, and allowing music to wash over you, creating space for messages, medicine, and magic to emerge. It’s an invitation to immerse yourself in sound and let it guide you inward, helping you connect with yourself on a deeper level.

What makes music meditation special is its flexibility—you can listen while lying down, sitting, walking in nature, driving in the car or even doing the dishes. The key is the intention you set: to allow the music to move through you and receive what it’s offering.

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Something inside me stirred like an ancient knowing being reawakened. Of course, it was! This was early on in my spiritual journey, long before I dove headfirst into the sacred pool of Goddess archetypes and their healing medicine.

I’d never quite connected with the idea of God in the traditional, patriarchal way it was taught to me by my Jewish mom, Catholic dad, Sunday school, movies, and society. But when I began exploring Goddess energy in my 30s, it hit me deeply. I felt it wake up within me—this primal connection to the divine feminine as if my bones were buzzing with recognition.

And now, to top it off, my favorite day of the week—FRIDAY—was infused with Goddess energy. I couldn’t have loved it more!

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As we embrace the Autumn Equinox, I invite you to pause and reflect on what you are ready to release and what you wish to nurture in this new season. To my sisters in the Southern Hemisphere, as you welcome the Spring Equinox—a time of rebirth and growth—the same ritual can guide you in honoring your new beginnings. a simple ritual to honor this magical time:

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Each twitching wing movement felt like an acknowledgment of the natural cycle—of dying, weaving itself into the alchemy of autumn. A sacred honoring of my loved ones, and all those who have gone through this process, across time and space.

The hornet lay on the outdoor rug, and I sensed it needed energy. I tuned in, and it became clear: the branch from the tree in the fairy garden, full of support and love, was meant to help the hornet’s transition. I placed it gently above the little creature. The energy shifted, and I felt its gratitude as tears quietly fell down my cheeks.

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Long before patriarchal times, Friday the 13th was the day of the Goddess—a time to honor cycles of creation, death, and rebirth. Friday was named for the Norse Goddesses Frigga/Freya, making Friday the day of the Goddess. When it falls on the 13th, it’s vibrant with Divine Feminine energy. The number 13 is sacred, representing the 13 moon cycles and the 13 times the average woman bleeds in one year. It’s linked to creation, fertility, and transformation.

So, instead of seeing today as unlucky, I invite you to tap into its potent energy to dream, manifest, and nourish your soul, beautiful Goddess. 

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With all the rushing to get your kids ready, maybe you're still holding anxiety from last year. Maybe you’re trying to balance everything and your temper is short. Maybe you're wondering how you’ll get everyone where they need to be on time or worrying about the struggles your kiddo might face this year. Maybe you’re feeling pressure to “keep up” with the moms who make it all look so easy.

Wherever you are, I invite you to pause, slow down, and breathe…

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Travel can be both exhilarating and overwhelming—especially for highly sensitive people. Whether it’s a quick weekend getaway or a multi-stop adventure, the constant moving, the transitions, and doing for others can easily lead to burnout. After many rough travel experiences, I’ve learned a thing or two. 

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It’s amazing how much we can learn from our children AND how beautifully we can re-parent ourselves when we leave shame and judgement behind. Awareness is the key!

ALL parents feel their kids emotions to some degree, if you’re a highly sensitive empathic parent like me you feel it on an extremely deep level. It can be really hard not to soak in and FEEL EVERYTHING your kid is feeling. That can be overwhelming and intense. So naturally when anger and other heavy emotions rise you want to shift the energy quickly. Instead PAUSE, BREATHE and remember that emotions are energy in motion and the only way to heal is to feel and move that energy through the body! You got this!

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Ever since childhood my emotions were shut down. I was told I was too dramatic, over emotional and just too much. I was always told not to cry, to just be happy and that it could always be worse. I spent a lifetime trying to fit into a non-emotional box.

It took years of anxiety, depression, illness, loss, grief and cancer to show me the importance of sitting with and feeling my emotions. And just how essential it was to let them rise and RELEASE them.

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My momma loved roses. She loved all flowers, really. I remember when I was younger it was daisies she favored. I’d buy them for her on Mother’s Day. They were the flowers I chose to lay on her casket before she was buried. They made her happy.

She worked at a garden nursery when I was young. Years later her back yard was an outdoor oasis. The pool surrounded by gorgeous blooms, bushes and garden chachkis. There were birdhouses, fairy statues, bird baths and a relaxing little waterfall under a tree. When you stepped into that back yard you were transported from a suburban/urban town to a magic garden filled with love and roses.

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