When I talk about the moon and energy, I'm not trying to be mystical for the sake of it.
I'm speaking a language I've learned to trust.
Because once we start paying attention,
we realize there's no such thing as coincidence—
only synchronicity wearing clothes.
Or sometimes flying by as a colorful bird.
Or the wind blowing at just the right time.
A ladybug crawling up your wall right when you're saying the perfect prayer.
Or you're dancing in your room to rainbows and sunshine
and you look over and see your laundry bag glowing
with an actual rainbow,
just because of the way the sun is hitting it.
I begin to notice it in the timing.
In the people who arrive right when I'm ready.
In the songs that find me when I need a mirror.
In the way certain moments land like,
Oh… this is why I'm here.
It's not that life is scripted.
It's that it's responsive.
The moment becomes a reminder
that I'm in the right place at the right time—
even when it doesn't feel like it,
even when I'm confused,
even when I'm waiting.
All of our paths are crossing one another constantly.
Every day is a crossroads.
The real question isn't Will we meet?
It's not even Will we meet again?
It's: Will we be aligned when we do?
And alignment isn't about perfection.
It's about resonance.
It's about whether two rhythms
can breathe in the same room—
rock back and forth—
ebony and ivory—
piano keys making music, making harmony.
That is what love is.
We're not looking for love.
We are the love.
We're looking for connection.
These are the Hippies at Heart—
the thugs who simply want harmony.
Sometimes the answer is yes.
Sometimes the answer is no.
And both are holy.
That's what being a Hippie at Heart teaches us:
to stop forcing harmony where it doesn't live.
And I think we can all agree—
people who move like this,
who live like this,
are exactly what this world needs more of
right now.
I declare and decree
that we are all going to keep shining.
Right now,
I'm standing at the edge
of a New Moon in Capricorn.
What I carry didn't begin online.
It began the moment
I became tuned in,
tapped in,
and turned on
to who I really am.
It began the moment
I realized I wasn't here to perform—
I was here to align.
I didn't start with a platform.
I started with a pulse.
It was shaped in church choirs.
In choir robes,
standing on the pulpit,
singing Total Praise.
In rooms where the drums were beating,
the air was trembling,
and the Holy Spirit moved so powerfully through me
that I felt naked in my own skin.
Not because I was being judged.
Not because I wasn't loved.
But because I had to face myself.
I remember being caught in that kind of praise once—
Total Praise rising through my body—
when someone I loved saw me that way.
And I felt exposed.
Not shamed.
Exposed.
Like something sacred inside me
had been revealed
before I knew how to hold it.
Back then, we didn't have language for it.
Now, we call them limiting beliefs.
Those places inside us that whisper:
Don't go that far.
Don't feel that much.
Don't be that seen.
But when women come together—
when we speak our dreams out loud,
when we let ourselves be witnessed—
we begin to rewrite those stories.
We begin to choose again.
Every day is still a crossroads.
And sometimes, you meet someone at that crossroads
who changes the way you see the road.
Someone who reminds you
that you don't have to rush.
That you're allowed to pause.
That becoming…
is holy too.
So please understand—
this is not for attention.
This is for alignment.
I'm not worried about algorithms now.
I'm worried about aura.
About authenticity.
About intention.
So when I speak,
when I move,
when I shine—
it's not for performance.
It's for presence.
And I am still becoming.
Still listening.
Still shining.
If this love letter found you, it’s because you’re one of us.
A Hippie at Heart.
A woman learning to live in rhythm instead of rush.
If you want to go deeper—
into the pauses, the practices, the poetry, the becoming—
I hold that space inside a place I call Her Universe-city
It’s my Patreon.
A quiet room for women who choose alignment over performance,
aura over algorithm,
presence over pressure.
You don’t have to arrive perfect.
Just present.
Come find me there.
Welcome home.