Digital Diary

Cosmos Lost Her Head…

and I hope to never find it again

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞: Digital Diary #14 (5-21-25) 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘎𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 Have a beautiful now🫶🏽🌈🦋🌅

𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐢𝐞: Digital Diary #13 (5-14-25)

𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡: Digital Diary #12 (5-1-25) I LOVE paradox. How can two opposing things both be true? Nothing about it makes sense, YET somehow it makes complete sense in its nonsensicality. You can, indeed, feel the full spectrum of emotions all at once. And when you do you sit in the eye of the storm where the calm awaits and holds you in an intense, grounding presence. I am so grateful for Ramen, for our special fur babies that come into this world asking for nothing and giving everything. For the unconditional love and joy they teach. For the fleeting, yet deeply impactful time, they are here. While death can feel sudden when it arrives, it’s no mystery that it’s always been on its way. I hold this close everyday and it’s what grounds me in presence and compassion. I love you all, happy 1st of May🫶🏽🌈🦋🌅

𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙄𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝘚𝘰 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭. 𝘈 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘐 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘍𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘚𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘐𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘈 𝘬𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘥𝘰𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘸 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘹 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘉𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦… 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘈 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶🦋

Digital Diary #10 (Part 3): Illusions of Comfort 𝘚𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤 𝘸𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘉𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴- 𝘞𝘪𝘴𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 “𝘸𝘦.” 𝘝𝘦𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘎𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘦, 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩. 𝘈𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦-𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘺. 𝘈 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺. 𝘛𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘦, 𝘸𝘦’𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘴. 𝘊𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺. 🫶🏽🦋🌈🌌🌱

Digital Diary #10 (Part 2): Great Manifestations & Their Shadow 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦, 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨? 𝘛𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯, 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯-𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯. 𝘙𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘹 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘋𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘈𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘭𝘥. 𝘕𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭.

Digital Diary #10 (Part 1) Holding Space for Transformation 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩- 𝘢 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘸, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢, 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺, 𝘈𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯-𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤, 𝘓𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳-𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤. 𝘖𝘳, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘱. 𝘚𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 -𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳- 𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦’𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳.  𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳… 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘳. 🌀🌊🦋🌌

Digital Diary #9 (Part 2): Remembering the Rainbow, 4-22-2025 Dancing in the portal between spaces 🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀 𝘛𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘢𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥, 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬. 𝘒𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵, 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘴𝘵. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘈𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥. 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥- 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥. 𝘌𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸, 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴- 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮: 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮. 𝘚𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘭𝘦, 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥. 𝘓𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥. 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘉𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯, 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘸𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘭𝘺. 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘳𝘺. 𝘈 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮. 🌱🦋🌀🌅

Digital Diary #9 (Part 1): Becoming the Rainbow, 4-22-2025 It’s been so fulfilling to come back to my art. I didn’t realize how much I missed the freedom of creating and connecting to myself through that process. I do it all the time with my tattoo clients and forgot I needed that one on one time with myself too. I’m excited to continue working on these older unfinished pieces and bring them to life with the new energy of my current self🌈🌻🌌

Digital Diary #9: Early morning conversations with myself, 4-15-2025 I’ve realized I’m the only true early bird in my house-and that’s not to say everyone else sleeps in. My whole family gets up early and it’s calm, gentle and quiet. When when I wake up, just like the birds outside, I’m ready to have a full-blown conversation…like I wasn’t just knocked out for the past 8 hours🤣 It actually works out beautifully for my digital diary entries. The mornings have become a space to talk to myself, reflect on my dreams, or explore whatever’s bubbled to the surface post-rest. Hanging out with myself, making art, journaling, dreaming, and drinking cacao-this has become my new routine, and I’m SO grateful. Have a great now🫶🏽🌈🦋🌅

Digital Diary #8: The Art of showing up for yourself, 4-12-2025 When I made this video I was so deeply rooted in my truth-it felt so good, so free. But my mind couldn’t understand why I had to post my crusty, just woke up self😂 So I let my sleep on it… This morning, I woke up at 5:55am to the word: whistleblower. The universe was calling me out. I can’t stand on the edge of my truth. (I can’t save my butt and my face too) I have to dive in. So, crusty or not here I come🌱 When I reread my poetry I usually find that I hide messages that land exactly when my future self is able to hear… 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙫𝙞𝙧𝙪𝙨, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙨? 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘧𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭. 𝘉𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴, 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦. 𝘈𝘴 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘨𝘰, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘢𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘸- 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥. 𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦. 𝘚𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘸- 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘈𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦- 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳… 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦. Happy Sunday🫶🏽🌈🦋🌅

Digital Diary #6: You are the author of your own story, 4-1-2025 Two pieces from my digital diary, shared together as my truths continue to merge into one. The cracks of the tower were really the fissures of the current reality breaking open, a portal into the unknown just waiting to be explored. Most of my poetry comes through like a whisper, that I can only hear when my mind is quiet and my heart is open to the flow🌀 𝘼 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧: As you begin to chip away at the plaster that encases the spirit within, you’ll find that it feels like falling from grace- like you committed a sin. All the narratives you thread through your ever changing skin, unravel like old books passed down from your kin. Loose pages will drift and fly away with the wind, and all you’ll be left with is what was hidden within.  The closest you’ll feel to source. What’s a book with no binding, no pages for finding, no chapters reminding. Just a new story, waiting to unfold. Pure energy for your new self to mold- a story your truest self foretold. As @erykahbadu would sing…𝘗𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘰 Have a great now🌈🦋🌌🌱🌟

Digital Diary #5: The body doesn’t lie, 3-28-2025 Quick post before I go MIA and run around climbing trees all weekend🌱 I love when insight comes through in humorous ways. Sensitivity is a super power and our body holds the blueprint to our health. All we need to do is connect with our unique ways of listening. I hope you all have a great weekend and enjoy the solar eclipse tomorrow🌞🦋💫

Digital Diary #4: Liminal Space, 3-23-2025 I made this video not because I have answers, but because I want to share what it’s like for me to move through the space between endings and beginnings. I can feel the pull to my next space, my next leap into the unknown. I have no idea the how, the where, the why. That is my mind trying desperately to keep this version of myself alive. But my heart is not scared of death, of transition, of the unknown. I’ve learned that the heart is the compass to our truth and the mind a tool of our survival. This video is an opportunity to witness myself and I’m sharing it for anyone else standing on the edge of their becoming, too❣️ I’m learning not to care about things that were never inherently fair. I’m no longer a victim of fear; I’ve learned it was here to help me hear. The space in between my truth and my mask- the deep wells of my spirit, spread far and vast. Climbing the rocky mountains of self, fear wanted me still, pretty on the shelf. A perfect doll, made of other people’s dreams; I danced so pretty while my insides screamed. Echoes of who I used to be bursting from the seams. The palms of my hands, torn and scratched- from ripping apart my old act. I found myself again in the darkness of the end, and planted the seed of life so I could live again. This new skin, vulnerable and soft- the death of my old self, the final cost. Thank you for reading, for listening, for witnessing. I’ll still be operating as usual for now and will keep you all updated as this next chapter unfolds🌀🌈🦋🌌🌱

Digital Diary #3 (Part 2): Recovering from the Mask, 3-19-2025 Continuing the theme of contraction to expansion. I have so much gratitude to the pain, the resistance, the friction that sparked the fire in my soul. How it got my feet dancing on the hot coals and led me to question all that I know. Even amidst the chaos that we still see externally, our ancestors fought for the world we live in now-a world where I can speak so freely. In the noise of it all, you may realize nothing really matters at all…and maybe, you are being given the opportunity to fall and rebuild without walls. Pain and pleasure have long danced together. Dare to walk through the intensity of your souls density and you might find your wildest dreams waiting on the other side.🦋 With clear eyes, I see The strings of fate that tie you to me. Visions of days spent, Saturated in pure unpleasantness. Roots rotting-decayed, Tethered to an old sense of state.  Set free from society, Chained, left out to dry. I find myself lost in its guise, Yet, my heart beats despite the pain. As I shed away the old decay, A new seed sprouts from the mud where I lay. A lotus, reaching for the night sky, A bloom that lasts but a moment in time. Who am I to relinquish the lies? Here and now, I dawn a new era, Crowning my head with the wisdom of pharaohs. And with clear eyes, I see The woven truth of who I’ll always be. 🌀🌈🦋🌌🌱

Digital Diary #3 (Part 1): Contraction before Expansion, 3-19-2025 This is a poem I wrote during one of my more painful periods. Just like death there is such a taboo about talking about a woman’s cycle and I’ve come to realize it’s because they go hand in hand. Both are symbols of transformation. Both have so much to teach us and both can free us from the illusions of a reality that doesn’t align with our hearts. Current circumstances Dictate I lie beneath the shades of my uterine pain. Another opportunity to shed the parts of me that ask to be set free. Past memories of who I used to be warring to flee. My body gripped tightly to protect me from me. Contraction and release, Contraction and release, Old blood surges out as I’m brought to my knees. Ancient as the roots of the oldest tree Entering the dark depths of my soul’s toiling sea. Current circumstances Usher me through another rebirth of me. And in the stillness between I find I’m able to see, the truth that my soul came here to be. With every contraction-pain my lasting companion. She cradles me as I shed in abandon. Closer to source my branches reach, grounded with roots that run ever so deep. A force of love so beautiful-I weep. Current circumstances guide me closer to me. 🌀🌈🦋🌌🌱🌞

Digital Diary #2: We are all going to die, so why not live? 3-14-2025 Still feeling the resistance to these posts, but I see the thread and I’m grabbing it and holding on tight! I originally planned to post once a week, but I’ve decided that’s the bare minimum. If I feel the call, I’m not ignoring it anymore. Reminder after reminder keeps hitting me: life won’t wait for us. The only guarantee at the end of this journey is that we will die, so why not choose to live bravely and curiously along the way? No matter what path we choose there will always be resistance and discomfort. I might as well choose the path that lights me up. The gold was never at the end of rainbow; it is in the joy of chasing it 🌈🌟

Digital Diary #1: Endings & Beginnings, 3-11-2025 I’m honestly surprised by how much resistance has bubbled to the surface in posting this. But, that just tells me I’m following the right threads. The voices in my head gave me every reason not to post. From my first video being filled with uhms and uncertainty, to my second being cut short, to blurry video quality and choppy audio, to will people even want to listen to this? This morning, I remembered, that none of that matters. Perfection is just a fancy way of the mind holding you back from your own evolution; it is the denial of learning through the process. Like the resistance that strengthens our muscles during a workout, I can already see that posting these videos will only strengthen my resolve to choose myself further and follow my joy. For those of you who made it to the end of my video, my training for the Death Doula program begins in April. Part of that training includes volunteer hours in end-of-life care spaces. I would truly love any recommendations/advice you have for volunteering at hospices, veteran hospitals, or other end-of-life care facilities. If you have a loved one in transition who is looking for companionship, help around the house, or just a listening ear, please reach out to me❣️

𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝟖:𝟒𝟐𝐩𝐦 I don’t know where I’m going, I know I no longer feel lonely, But the turmoil inside Rakes at my mind, Asking me to shed the way I used to be And rebuild this new sense of me. My attachment to what I thought was real Now runs after me, nipping at my heels, And I can’t see beyond the fog ahead, But anything is better than the noise in my head. Should I fall on my face, I hope to tumble into place, Where my heart takes the lead, Live by a new creed, And learn how to just be.

The camera not being able to focus on my face kinda makes me angry LOL 🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀 It’s okay to be angry when you don’t feel free It’s okay to be angry when all you want to do is just be It’s okay to be angry, I say when I look in the mirror at me So what now? What do I do with my anger? I’ve sat with it, cried with it, screamed with it, And now it sits in the pit of my stomach, a constant ache that calls me to it There’s no ignoring the roiling that calls for my own uncoiling It screams for retribution It calls for my own evolution I ache for this transmutation to find peace in the solution But it asks me to sit in the sea of emotion, to let the waves of anger wash over me, to stop and sit in the commotion And as I’m thrown and my body thrashed and bashed, I hope to fall into the eye of the storm where all is calm, and I can finally laugh Peace was always mine to have, as anger was only one side of the half

Digital Diary

Cosmos Lost Her Head…

and I hope to never find it again

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