hI know you want to hear about the corvette, and maybe if anyone saw my undewear when I did the cartwheel (they didn't, so you can stop fretting about that,) but first I want to tell you a brief list of things I've done this summer:

1. A cartwheel. In a the garden of a nearby park. I lied. A butterfly saw. Possibly a bee. And all the trees noticed but pretended not to glance down. The sun just shone and didn't care. The sun is always light about such things.

2. Luxury coffee. Homemade lattes with maca and other adaptogenic herbs. Sweet, sugary, spicy lattes from the coffee shop nearby just down the way where they witchy lady ensures Hogwarts always has enough chocolate frogs and the employees ask you deep questions like, "What is freedom to you?" in the outdoor pavilion. Various herbal coffees blended with coconut cream and a touch of cardomom. Four Sigmatic coffee sipped in a brand new cappuccino mug on the step overlooking a fairy garden while reading the Gene Keys or I Hope I Screw this up by Kyle Cease.

3. Smell the roses. I bought a cute and affordable white cafe table and my husband set it up by our roses bushes. On more than one occasion we sat out there and watched the neighborhood go by and enjoyed one anothers company. And when he went off to work or to quietly decompress with a book or be rambunctious with our dogs and kids, I smelled the roses and spoke to them, telling them how beautiful they are!  I fended off the beatles for longer than usual, although they eventually came. And after the final bloom, I resigned myself that would be the end of it for the season. And then one day, I had just declared that everything within me and incoming to me is a gift, and when I looked up suddenly I saw it as if they hadn't been growing and budding all along: several new growths had sprouted fully blossoming white roses out of thin air...in the secret blanket creating by my previous lack of presence and attention or a miracle or both. I'll go with both, thank you.

4.  I watched the boys that live within eyeshot growing up to be compassionate humans beings, all with involved, wonderful dads and involved, great moms. I watched, for example,  a big brother care so attentively for his tiny sibling, and help the small toddler ride around on a scooter like a champ. I watched a whole family, including two boys say goodbye to their beloved cat, seated in a circle surrounding the 20 year-old feline with love. With my own son, I invented a game called "Floor ski" using those silvery cold bags Whole Foods uses to deliver frozen items or ones that need to be kept cool. With his feet on the large silver bag,  took his hands and and gently yet exuberantly pulled him around the entire downstairs. I watched my husband and kids all develop their own unique, wonderful dynamics. I watched us grow as a family to find new ways to connect with our long distance immediate family member, who now resides outside Boston with her East Coast family. We grew in letting go of expectations, expanding our way of being a family and getting creative, like playing madlibs on the phone, charades on skype, chess simuls on all our various devices, all the way down to a long distance birthday party, complete with air feeding her cake and her pretending to chew it.

I could go on, of course. Instead, let me come to what I've promised, although don't blame me for delaying; I did tell you about the cartweel right away: So there is a convertible and I think it's a corvette and the truth is I'm not really sure. I probably should have disclosed earlier that I'm not entirely 100% certain it's a corvette, but the thing is, it alliterates so nicely with cartweel and I've come to think of it as a corvette and in reality it doesn't matter because you think corvette and you almost for sure think "sports car." When you know it's a convertible...well, you're hopefully picturing something like what I saw. And then add a vibrant and wholesome looking woman in the range of forty forty to fifty two, see her in the driver's seat finishing a conversation with some kids across the street and then there is me. I would be dancing on this particular strip of street but I misplaced by headphones and a day later my phone passed away. We won't know the causes without an autopsy but they are calling is Corona Virus because it had a fever and it made some noises that were believed to be signs of respiratory distress, so it was suspected, and therefore the imaginary morgue for phones decided to call it that. Who knows. So without my phone or headset I just marched out into the light of a beautiful day, technology free. And I called out to the lady in the red convertible that is possibly a corvette, "you must have so much fun driving around in that thing!" She said, "Yes I do! I I grinned back and said "Absolutely! You must get so much joy out of it! That is AWESOME." She smiled broadly and said "It's how I keep my vibe high in these times! We got to, right?" "Definitely!" I said. "You keep grooving out with your fab car and I'll dance down the street and between us, we're gonna raise the vibe all the way up!" We both smiled big, bold and beautiful shining our light and cheering one another on as empowered women who love to have fun and raise the vibe!

A long time ago my son received an autism diagnoses. We had had a hunch he had a mild form of autism from our own observations and a medical intuitive. At different times when he was little it flared up and we were able to treat it with homeopathy and diet. But every time the "energy" or a situation was adverse for him, he would manifest more dramatic symptoms. When he first started school in North Carolina he was sweet, compliant, a teacher's ideal pupil - just not particularly interested in joining the play style of the boys and he happened to be in a class that was disproportionately boys. That didn't work for him. The amount of hyper boy energy and the stress of the teacher trying to manage it was not good for him. He expressed his needs, but the classroom basically wasn't a fit. Finally we had him tested so he could get an IEP. I wanted to offer him the option to part time homeschool and part time school. during the process of looking into that, he saw a letterhead that included his diagnoses:
Me to Gabriel after he read the school attorney's letter advising me on what I needed to do to submit our request for a shortened day to the board:
Gabriel, how do you feel about the word "autism?"
Gabriel: "Am I your love?
Me: "Yes"
Gabriel: "Am I your sweetie?"
Me: "Yes"
Me: "Do you not really care about the word autism as long as you know you're my love and my sweetie?"
Gabriel: "The only thing I care about is love."
I have written before about how symptoms of behavior and mental illness are often symptoms of societal disease manifested in the individual. Where there might be a tendency toward___________(whatever) it is the ecosystem in which we live that often determines what epigenetics express, and what arises as our authentic response to life. Our ecosystem includes the actual structures of our world and how we interface with them. Do the structures (physical and otherwise) have enough freedom and enough form? Are they built harmonically with nature? Is the intent control or nurturance of empowerment? Water itself can be structured. Space itself is structured. It is not just the outer structures but the inner ones that impact children. Children on the spectrum KNOW when the motive is LOVE and when it is complicity in fear or a milieu of control. Many administrators have forgotten their own childlike ability to be creative, to evolve. I want to encourage those who work with children to validate children's feelings, expressed or silently witnessed. The children are very, very often right. The adults who say, "this is the policy" when the policy hurts a child and there is a better way that is possible WITHOUT THE POLICY are forgetting Who They Are as entrusted with lives of huge beings in very tender vessels that are extra sensitive - sensitive to light and noise but also to truth. Often well trained and "qualified" adults feel obliged to enforce things that cause harm. Sometimes they truly believe they are right (kids KNOW when this is a falsehood) and sometimes they feel that there hands are tied. It's time to lovingly, fiercely untie our hands, first in the inner layers of our being, then in our outer actions of courage to express whatever is our soul truth in the ways that are aligned from the highest levels we can access, in the most fully embodied ways we can, for the highest flourishing of all life on earth, Now.
"The only thing I care about is love."

"Inner Child Frequency Is Unstoppable"
This is what I found myself saying to a woman in her sixties in the narrow hall of a coffee shop after she broke out in a huge smile watching me do the "If you're happy and you know clap your hands" song and dance with my head still hidden in the turtleneck style portion of the over-the-head fair trade shawl I was in the process of pulling my noggin through. When I finally poked my face and head out, I turned to my husband and said playfully, "boo!" The woman, whose perfectly fitting name turned out to be Gloria cracked up and we instantly became friends. I was telling my husband just yesterday about the way that my relating style is in many ways closer to kids on the spectrum than to conventional adults. I saw this thing written by a woman diagnosed with autism explaining how she feels unconditional love for everyone but has a really hard time with social protocols. I have always felt that same. Don't get me wrong, I don't always like everyone. I am neither an introvert nor an extravert and although the term ambivert fits me best, I am really more of a soul-o-vert. I enjoy overtly soulful connections across every other demographic. Poor, rich, black, white, or purple speckles, English speaking, speaks only other languages - doesn't matter. Sexual identity, education, fashion sense (or the lack thereof) - don't care. Unless you wear the stuff target was selling last year. Then I probably might need you to change into something else before we can talk. But generally, you get the picture. Most of the time I don't even notice obvious things about people. Or myself, sometimes. I've had people tuck in my collar from time to time because they care but I don't. I can't tell you what Gloria was wearing, but I can tell you I noticed her eyes sparkling from the moment she walked in and sat down. I think she had on a scarf. The woman she joined had a lower vibration and was at the moment I first laid eyes on her, unavailable to connect. Fast forward beyond my digression about autism,  fashion and my lack of interest in superficial interaction unless the chatter is incidential to the underlying soul connection taking place and pause with me at the moment where Gloria laughs out loud and spreads a smile on her face sweeter than chocolate icing on a cupcake. I turn toward and she says, "We NEED more FUN! Especially in these times..." "Yes, I said.  "We need more fun. When we embody our Inner Child Frequency, WE are unstoppable." Gloria told me about grandaughter's first music class, and the curiosity and joy of children. I added, "The kids being born now to families like yours come "intact" - they know who they are and the are here to shift the fabric of reality in positive ways -  they just need grownups who can hold that space for them so they don't get squashed or slammed into boxes. The more we embody our own inner child frequency, the more we shift the fabric of reality around us and help our children do the jobs they came here to do. Gloria shared how she agrees and how, as a science teacher, she has always tried to create that space for kids to be themselves without having their spirits squashed. "They have a big job to do," said Gloria. "Yes," I said. What they need most from us is for us to create safe spaces for them to be who they really are so they can give their gifts to the world. Our job is to lighten up and have more fun." I told Gloria and her friend about my "serious" day yesterday and how a little girl from down the street helped me remember what is important when she stopped by with her dad to give me the most beautiful Thank You card she made with a huge, gorgeous yellow butterfly on it. I said, "Ya know how kids sometimes draw themselves? It looked like her - this big, bright yellow butterfly over a beautiful green field with wildflowers. She brought it to thank for me for giving her a couple of crystals on Halloween. Previously she'd given me a blessed ginko branch, free of charge at her lemonade an ginko sale. I had no money, so she said, "That's okay," and handed a lovely greeny leafy bow anyway. I told her one day I'd give her a crystal to say "Thank you." On Halloween I gave out organic lollipops and little crystals. I let this particular child take two since I had no yet followed up on my promise and I wanted to be good for it. As it happened she is a crystal lover, and there on my doorstep she told me about her rock collection. When we embody our power through the inner child frequency, we are unstoppable - we arrive at each moment's destiny with our innocence guiding us, and as a result. Sometimes a child shows up at just the right moment to remind us when we've momentarily lapsed into seriousness. When we remember, are able to let our innocence, joy and beauty shine into the world, and this medicine is exactly what the world needs in its darkest hour. "Fun just might save the world," I said to Gloria's friend, who had formerly looked heavy, as if she were wearing a lead coat and shutters over the place where a person's soul speaks through the shine in their eyes, had been slowly opening her shades. "I hope so! I just can't stand the BLEAKNESS out there." "I hear you," I said. I I told her about Tomorrowland. If you haven't, I highly recommend. It features an inspiring young woman, a super cool message, a witty, endearing android girl...and George Cloony. When my husband mentioned George Cloony, both sixty-something women got really excited. "Fun just might save the world," said Gloria. By now both women were glowing with inside our soul smiles. I added, "Grownup playtime, here, Sundays?" Then I put on my panda hat and we all smiled huge ear to ear soul smiles. The woman whose soul shutters had been closed was beaming. We all were.

Read my first book

I am a both/and kind of woman.

It's no different when it comes to ordering quiche than when someone asks me some false dichotomy question, like would you rather be compassionate or wise, soft or strong, beautiful or intelligent - or would you rather solve X global crisis or Y. I also like third alternatives. If I can't have my both/and on a particular issue, I will accept a third or 84,00th alternative if its sings right.

One particular day last week - and I forget which one - I went to The Madison Chocolate Co. Their logo looks like female anatomy melded with sacred geometry, and although I've now confirmed any similarity is completely unintentional - at least consciously - the intention IS conscious to provide a environment that is empowering to female entrepreneurs across the globe and to saturate the space with joy, love, fun, beauty, lavender lattes and chocolates from around the world. The coffee beans are sourced from a women's cooperative in Columbia, if I am not mistaken. It's a great spot to enjoy high vibes and local friendly welcome with a touch of posh.

I hadn't been in a little bit, as I've made coffee a little more o a "special occasions" only kind of thing recently. There is enough "amped up" ness in teh air without it, as much as I adore anything caffeinated with that deep, intense, creamy, aroma, served hot in a mug, whose heat I can feel, sip, by slow sip. Tea just isn't the same. But I digress.

On this particular outing, I got the nudge around 11am, and I felt aligned to order a slice of warm quiche. I'm newly off a strict "no refined carbs" phase and enjoying a little more indulgence during the colder months. The Chocolate Co makes a REALLY yummy gluten-free quiche. The young man working behind the counter stepped down from a tall latter where he was doing something with picture frames, and asked how he could help me. When I asked for the quiche, he said that he broccoli only or mushroom and broccoli. Being a both/and kind of person, I of course requested "both." The young man came back moments later, head down, and apologetically informed me they didn't have the one with both - they'd run out. I told him not to worry about it. He then retrieved for me a complimentary truffle (I choose vanilla) and I told him I was in heaven, and that really, I didn't actually care about having both broccoli and mushrooms in my quiche as in manifesting heaven AND earth. He agreed. At that moment, the lovely owner appeared and mentioned that she had been manifesting ME. She said, "You haven't been in for a while, right? Usually when I set an intention and I tell someone, it happens." I smiled and told her that yes, I'd gotten the message, in the form of a nudge to come on over. At first when she realized I was the one who'd ordered the quiche they didn't have, she looked slightly crestfallen too - but when I told her I got what I REALLY wanted - two or more gathered around a shared intention of creating heaven AND earth - vanilla truffle included, we all celebrated with shared joy, smiles and good vibes together. It was the sweetest disappointment. And I got my third alternative.

Believe it or not there is more life than quiche and chocolate. There is also skipping in the woods with your child who, once diagnosed as "on the spectrum" could barely stay on a stool without falling off. There is watching your child who used to throw tantrums for hours become a responsible, authoritative, caring, amazing pet "Mama." And there is allowing your teenager to discover life on her own terms, trusting that, while not perfect, you've done a "good enough" just to empower her wings to be her OWN awesome self. These are just examples from my life. How about yours?

If you are struggling as a parent dealing with intense, sensitive, gifted, challenging or just amazing beyond what you know how to handle kids, there is an online offering just for you. This is NOT for parents who want to handle behavior without doing  their own transformation work. It's not about telling you what to do. It's about helping helping become the kind of person who knows what to do, and knows how to clean up when you mess up. Awesomeness includes humility - you don't have to be perfect! It's about giving you the inner clarity and the skills to navigate your way successfully, even when the unexpected comes up and smacks you in the face. It's about helping you achieve your own miracles so you can have your quiche and eat it too. The truth is, owning your own challenges and diving beneath the struggles to the innocence of WHO YOU REALLY ARE and what you're here to give will help you parent your child so they can release their own authentic selves into the world - awesomely.

If you are interesting in cultivating your ability to be YOU, awesomely,  and to raise (awesome) humans, my first ever course is available at unicornacademy.thinkific.com

The other day I got to model a cute organic fair trade dress at Servv, meditate by the water and eat delicious food with my family. I also got to discuss the intersectionality of building a local bamboo or hemp textile industry with potential indoor growing with creating local jobs, especially for people coming out of incarceration - feeding two birds with one worm - with a young woman of color, and the power of giving oneself permission to be complete with an experience from the inside out with an older white woman. The latter conversation stemmed from her offering me sample chocolate, which I declined. I told her I'd already had my chocolate quota. She was surprised. She asked if I had a specific amount I allow myself. I said, "No, it's more like I've eaten almost nothing but chocolate for two days and my body says, "I'm done." I then told her about a woman I met years ago who asked for relationship advice, as she kept landing in bed with someone who wasn't very good for her. I told her to allow herself to enjoy it until she no longer wanted it. A couple of years later she found me at a potluck and said, "I took your advice and it worked. I gave myself permission to enjoy it until I didn't want it anymore and then when I was done I was done. I didn't go back." The white woman in the store translated this story like this: "It's so important for us to learn to trust ourselves internally, especially when it comes to leaving abusive relationships."

It all started in the dressing room, after a delicious family meal downtown at Shortstack. I had just put on this adorable organic, fair trade dress and emerged from the changing stall. As I walked out from the curtains, two cops thought I was the store manager. Tithout thinking, I naturally gravitated to their energy. I didn't know they had just asked for the manager at the front desk of Servv. One black cop, one white. Both cool guys.

Since we live in a racist state and there is much polarization around "do you love black people or do you love cops" I particularly love moments of grace with black cops because it ends the duality. So this black officer starts saying, "I'm officer so and so and I want to ask you a few questions. First of all, are you planning on being open for freakfest?” I DO fly my freak flag high, but I am not an employee at Servv. I mean, cosmically, yeah, but…well, you know. So I said, "I don't work here" and all of a sudden the woman who works the register whose known me peripherally for years says, "Oh she can see your energy so that's why she walked right toward you."

I said, "I can just tell you are both awesome human beings and it just makes me really happy when I meet people who work in MPD who embody love and truth and justice." He hugs me.

The woman working at the register told me, "That looks like it was made for you! You could just walk out in it." I jokingly offered to model it in exchange for walking away with it. Before I knew it a beautiful, radiant woman of color was telling me to do a little spin before she took my pic, while she took a short video clip. In a jiffy, I undid the clip to the tag on my dress, brough it over to the register where my husband was happily yucking it up with the woman who called out my vibe reading on the officers. Soon the real manager emerged and offered me chocolate. You already know the rest - it's herstory.

And while we're on the topic of chocolate...not all chocolate is created equal. The pure stuff without additives, sustainably harvested and cultivated humanely tastes wayyy better! As a parent, I've taught my kids to taste and feel the difference, and as a result they taste junk and think it's gross!

After we left Servv, my family and I were drawn in multiple directions. My husband and kids wanted to go to the dog park and I wanted to meditate by the water. So instead of anything sacrificing anything, I went across the street to meditate and befriend a duck, while my crew went to the dog park, where they had a lovely time!

Becoming like a little child without becoming a little brat

A famous God-man once said “You must become like a little child to enter the kingdom of heaven.” Children have faith because what looks like “impossible” reads, “I’m possible” to anyone with a big heart and a childlike sensibility. Now all of us would like our lives to feel more like heaven, and that same dude said that the kingdom of heaven is within us, which is super encouraging because it means we don’t have to wait until we’re dead to experience it’s blossoming in our life - and by extension - the world around us. The difference between being childish and being childlike is simple:

Being childish occurs when our inner child’s needs go unmet and we act out.

What are some adult ways that our inner "kids" act out when our needs are unmet?

How might we acknowledge how our inner child is feeling and either choose a healthier way to meet that need or comfort and self-nurture and self-sooth our inner child while we step into faith that Yes, Life is LOOKING for ways to help us meet that need in wonderful, wholesome ways? Our job is the parent of our inner child is to help themhang in there without causing harm to others or ourselves on our way to the point in space/time where the opportunity shows up and we are vibrationally, cognitively and emotionally ready to embrace it with gusto, appreciation and joy.

If you look at what's being offered up for consumption, you might not be entirely surprised if Kellog's advertised, "Fear and rage: part of this complete breakfast." While I personally believe cardboard is probably more nutritious than many breakfast serials, and that glyphosphate and empty carbs are really not part of any complete breakfast, unless the goal is to see how far you can push your glorious human body's detoxification mechanisms,) I think fear and rage are even less nourishing for the human soul, and can have dire consequences on our bodies as well - not only when someone goes out and shoots other bodies, but also in terms of what chronic outrage, and fear-states do to our immune system, our adrenals, our hormonal balance and our critical thinking faculties, which get shortcircuited, making us very susceptible to letting someone else do the thinking of us. And we'd be remiss to think that isn't intentional. But forget all that: hostility is bad for our hearts. And you know what? We need those beauties beating if we want to stick around. And we need them beating with love and in unity with our brothers and sisters if we want to create a level of consciousness coherence strong enough to create a world our kids will want to stick around for. So consider working through fear and rage an exercise in your own heath, as well as suicide prevention for the next generation.

Imagine a white rose in the center of your heart, with sprarkly dew drops made of pure light. Each dew drop is a crystal shining with a splash of refracted rainbow light.

Your heart is full of a love so pure it is invincible.

The womb space that births you...in which this rose floats has no-thing in it. It is black like velvet love; a kiss beyond touch and form. In it nothing is divisible because no is there and yet ever-one arrives there to become empty, in that pregnant-with-all-potential sort of way. You are free and safe. You are infinite. And from this space you inhale into every cell in your physical body the knowing that you are far more...and far less than every story being told upon life's stage.

Stepping back to see how you are the director, as well as the actor, you have more lee-way to play your part, cancel your show, demand your actors step it up a notch or go home, ask for a re-write on the screen play (oh yeah, you are the screen writer too, but you have a whole time to help you,) or simply call "lunch" while you see what needs to happen to make this whole thing work.

When the whole thing is a mess, a simple mantra that can shift the timeline is, "I love you, thank you." Just say it as you survey and feel into what is happening in front of you and within you. And then go to the womb space from which you birth new realities. Center in the rose that flowers in the center of your heart-zone. Call on your angels. Set your boundaries. Align. Inhale. Exhale. Act. You can always do "take two." It's never too late. The stakes are high, but it's just a show. Relax. Enjoy the process a little more. Remember it's only acting.

Being calm-passionate with your other actors and screen writers and people directing their own (possibly competing) shows can help you bring out the best in your people - and get a lot more joy and peace out of the creative process called life.

This is your moment. You signed up for this. You are here! We are here! We are not alone.

An alternative to allowing the most effective forms of creative compassion to get hijacked by rage is to become calm-passionate, so that we can focus on developing our awesomness with a fierce commitment to reclaim our awesomeness and cultivate our skillfulness at expressing it to our larger whole. When we become contagious and courageous we become agents of change instead of pawns in a puppet show that ends like Hamlet. We are all influencers, everyday. And when you think about it, you might have the opportunity to be the tipping point for one person who has the potential to be a tipping point for their organization, their family or something even bigger. All that’s necessary is stepping into who you really are, skillfully in service to our larger whole. And if your adult says, “It’s too hard.” Or, “It’s too simple,” tell your adult to go sit down and watch a Netflix re-run while you conference with your inner child and your inner sage

Today I saw a monarch dance is swooping patterns of ecstasy, and for one moment it flew over my head. A dragonfly looked me in the eye, tilted its head and seemed to acknowledge our very real connection. And a bird died n the arms of a little boy across the street. A circle of four young white males gathered to do their best for the little squawker - clearly a baby - who had been "gotten" by a neighborhood family's outdoor cat. I had the feeling when they called me over, knowing that I have on occasion rescued and helped revived a near death bee, that this bird was on its way to death and was not going to make it. I had competing urges to go home and tell them to let the thing alone, even to let the cat finish it so it could go quickly, and to be there to provide support in whatever way I could. In the end I let them decide what to do, counseling them on the options and stood a good distance off, at the edge of their yard, one step away from the cement circle. They soon called to me, "Alicia, Alicia, we got it! We rescued it!" And so one boy held it, I did some energy work on it, another boy got it water to sip, and one of their dads came by to make sure the boys washed their hands VERY thoroughly and to put in his two cents on "the politics of having outdoor cats." Meanwhile, the kids were not considered with judgment, but compassion. One wondered if he should wack the bird with a stick "so it won't suffer." Another gathered grass for a nest and wondered if, for the last moments of its life we should set it down, "So it can have some peace." And in the end one boy just held it kindly until its heart stopped, and then all the boys dug it a grave. Not every story has to have a happy ending to be beautiful. The beauty in this story to me is that the bird gave the boys an opportunity to demonstrate positive, healthy masculinity - courage, considered ethics and compassion. I told them I think that being courageous and compassionate are the most important things for a boy - for any person - to learn, and that they did a great job with both. They seemed sad but also pleased with how they handled situation and I watched from a distance as they sat in a circle around the tree where they'd buried the bird for a while before moving on. One of the boys in this group used to squash small bees for sport. I told him they were my friends and from then on he became a strong bee advocate. Sometimes telling our friends that vulnerable populations are OUR friends can really shift things.

I was pulling out of a parking spot today when my path crossed with a mini van containing two beautiful women in hjab. I stopped to let them go. And I smiled. They smiled back so genuinely. One of my favorite things about Islam is that smiling is considered a good deed, officially. I was born in a Sufi commune and spent the first two years of my life there. I also visited sacred Christian sights twice during my first two years - the first time when I was still in the womb. And my father is Jewish. So I am deeply influenced by all three traditions.

But the tradition that resonates with me most is the one that says, "I don't care what your religion is, I care about your heart." I know when I am meeting someone and we are relating soul to soul, heart to heart, and that is the most magical thing about being a human being capable of connecting with other human beings. I felt that with the muslim women in the mini van. And I felt it when I went to coffee this morning, and I paused just before going in, feeling the sense to wait, only to be greeted moments later by an old friend I hadn't seen in a long time who happens to be black. He told me about some health struggles and I offered him some energy healing, which he accepted, right there in the sunshine outside the neighborhood weigh station of caffeine and conversation. He said he could feel it and thanked me.

This morning my son accidentally dropped a bottle of fizzy ferment, also known as kombucha. I told him it was okay, and asked if needed any help cleaning up. He said no, that it was already all cleaned up. The bottle remained intact, but the cap broke. Like mother like son. Last week the same thing happened to me. Twice. The first time was at home. The second time was very, very public.

There is nothing like standing at the crime scene of a kombucha accident in the middle of Whole Foods. The kombucha cooler is stored absolutely directly in the middle of the front of the store where all the registers are, so everyone has to walk by you and your accident on their way to check out. Now you may have surmised by now that I had a kombucha accident, based on the scene I've set and the spoiler in the title. You would be correct. Stick around and I'll tell you not only how it happened, but the memorial service that was held for a lost scobe.

I was reaching for the top most shelf. Only the day before my youngest daughter and I had been discussing the pros and cons of being short or tall. In this case, being short was a con. I climbed up on the ledge of the cooler and with effort, grasped the Nessala Juniper rose, only it was wet, and it slipped and crashed to the ground without pausing, demonstrating that the laws of gravity are still in effect for kombucha bottle sized objects at this time. I heard a bang as it hit the floor, and as I looked down, I saw, spread out beneath me an entire lake of gold. I looked for shards of broken glass, but found none. Instead, joyfully, I located an intact bottle; the only broken thing was the plastic cap. So in essence the crash landing had simply opened the bottle, spilling its contents on the ground. Moments later a staff member, and then another staff member and still another came over. It almost seemed someone had called a code blue. I didn't know it took five people to mop up a spill, but maybe they heard me say "golden lake" in my mind, and thought "large scale accident, call in the troops." Eventually it was down to my current favorite Whole Foods employee. She has colorful rainbow hair, featuring a soft red, and we've had fun, high vibe conversations before. Now we stood watch over the disaster. I apologized, of course, and then we just stared at it for a while in silence. She then announced that someone has to "watch the spill" to make sure no one slips and falls. I nodded. We kept watching. I suppose I could have left, but it didn't seem like the right thing to do, after all, it was my spill, I felt I should see it through to it's completion. After a bit it occurred to me that it was a bit like how I imagine it would be to keep watch over a person who has passed. I said so aloud, "It kind of reminds me of keeping watch over someone who has died." She said, "Yeah, I get that." And thus we commenced a psuedo memorial service for the kombucha, light-hearted, yet in some sense also sincere. We wished the kombucha a wonderful next life, and she made sure especially to give a shoutout to the scobe, which was sprawled like a sun-colored jellyfish off to one side, and I concluded our ceremony by saying, "May everyone who walks here be blessed!" With that another employee returned with a mop and a towel, and I departed to purchase a small bonsai tree, two surviving bottles of kombucha, two basil plants and a small coconut water made by Harmless Harvest.

All in all, I took it as a good sign that although the kombucha came crashing down, the glass remained intact. Over the course of that day, I saw three monarchs, planted my basil, found a home for my bonsai and lounged at Brittingham beach with my husband and our two younger children, our oldest being in Boston.

Another thing I saw this week: two kinds of bees sharing the same flower.

And one more thing: two butterflies dancing a duet.

And one last thing: a monarch and a dragonfly doing a doce doe.

444

Patterns are usually pretty flipping unconscious. Even if you are aware of them, the actual pattern that produces the actual events that suck in your life (or if you’re lucky, the ones that create a beautiful life) life in your unconscious until they are triggered. Then we usually just react to the wounding or suppress them with various coping methods.

Even when we know a pattern exists in our family of origin, we usually think we have it covered. We know we will make different choices, be a different person, manifest a different kind of experience for ourselves and the people we love - including the families we create, whether through romantic union that produces flesh and blood children, through adoption or through close, deep relationships that function like family through common history or instant emotional connection that flowers into a shared life. We often succeed in one or more ways at doing things differently, and then simultaneously produces the same old results in a brand new flashy, updated wardrobe. It can feel mighty unfair because we feel like we already endured whatever we endured in childhood, we did our best to make conscious choices to do better, to make things different for ourselves, and our children, and then boom!

Maybe we make a few mistakes that are the same or different, and our child(ren) reacts the same way to us that we did to our parents!

Maybe we get so stressed out that we revert to a style of dealing with what our children present to us that is oddly and horrifyingly familiar.

Maybe we do it all “right” and still our children wish we did it differently, perhaps because their personality matrix requires a different kind of parenting than the one we “did right.”

Or maybe influences outside the family - or at least outside the immediate family seem to sabotage your every effort to create a safe, wholesome, joyous place for your family to thrive, and seem to derail our goals and devolve our family dynamics into ones we thought we could single-handedly move your family beyond.

Maybe we married the opposite type of person than our parents but underneath there was a thread of similarity in at least one aspect, unrecognizable to conscious analysis, and we must now face our own reactions to that trigger in order to move forward positively, in a life-affirming manner.

The beauty of being triggered - even having the shit hit the fan is we get an awesome opportunity to truly see, feel, and love the "us" who has experienced these pattern and yet also remained innocent beyond them. Then when we feel them arise, we can release them. I am so excited to be creating an alchemy program of seven formulas to help you do just that!

I know this month has revealed many patterns to me that I inherited and it's been a wonderful opportunity to have more compassion and forgiveness for my own parents as well as to awaken new layers that are ready to slough off, heal or shift into a vibration of bliss.

These are intense times and they are not always rose cakes and rainbows. At the same time, we never, ever even for a moment stop being innocent, miraulous beings created in Love, by Love, for Love.

We've got this!
You're not alone.
If you'd like to schedule a one on one session, feel free to reach out using the contact form on the website.

Otherwise stay tuned for the Alchemy of Seven <3

Love
Alicia


    

I picked my son up from tennis and we decided to hit up Colectivo on our way home. He ordered a pink panther smoothie and I got a wheat free macaroon and at the last minute a spicy iced mocha. After all, an intuitive lady said not too long ago I need more spice, more heat in my life, and I was just thinking about that this morning sitting in the sunlit partial shade of my wild yarden. My front yard shifts from a full spread of yellow suns and violets come early spring into a blanket full of white and red clover with clusters of fresh herbs and a few vegetables once summer sets in. This year I even included a chili pepper plant for the precise reason of getting more spice into my diet. It's showing off the cutest white star shaped flowers, along with miraculously appearing little green chilies now. I tried one of the chili peppers that emerged the other day, but honestly, it was about as spicy as a cucumber in mild salsa. So after I had already gotten done with the whole credit swipe process, I added the spicy mocha made with oatmilk, and waited with my son for everything to arrive at the counter. I chatted amicably with an acquaintance whose name is David, like my husband, only he isn’t like my husband at all, except that they are both nice. I asked this particular individual named David what’s inspiring him these days and he said it’s his morning walk. He asked me the same, and I told him about my wild yarden and how I delight in seeing the wildflowers come up and pop out into blossom. Soon our order was ready, and I followed a slight, gentle nudge to walk out the front door instead of the back way, which would have been closer to our car, which we’d parked up the street and to the left. On our way around the corner, I noticed two of the cutest, sweetest looking dogs. I am much more attuned to noticing dogs these days, thanks to my daughter. She is a deep and true dog lover. If she could put her arms around every dog that exists, she would do so in instant. I paused in front of these two lovely creatures, one with the clearest, brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, and the other the soften tan lab mix with gentle brown eyes and slightly shaggy fur around the face. I asked the young man with them if I could say hello. He smiled full of kindness and said, “Of course!” As I began petting the blue-eyed dog, quite possibly an Australian shepherd or or at least a blended lineage with some Aussie shepherd in there, another young fellow came over. He looked so familiar and his face was full of light. I told them how my youngest daughter would love their dogs because she has a true universal dog lover. I said how she loves every single dog - it doesn’t matter if they are cute or if they have personality issues or they are mangy or perfectly groomed, she loves them ALL. I shared how we’ve started going on walks without our dogs so she can meet and give attention to all the dogs in our neighborhood. The young men were touched. Then the one I recognized said, “You’re Alicia, right?” I nodded. “I just got your email yesterday. I really enjoy getting your emails. I find them really inspirational.” I said, “Thank you.” I looked at him, my head slightly cocked to the side trying to place how he got on my email list. Finally I asked, “Where do we know each other from?” He replied, “The coffee shop.” Then I remembered. “Were you about to move to…” “Yeah,” he replied, “I moved to Washington, but I live in Colorado now.” Geeze, what are the chances I meet a soul brother who happens to be visiting Madison! I asked him how he liked Colorado. He said it’s okay but he’s still trying to get stable there. He told me how he actually feels more comfortable here in Madison, Wisconsin. I explained how we may feel more comfortable physically in different places based on the energetics but we can always tap into the template and energetics of The New Earth and then run that in our light bodies. Then we can make it easier for that to be available to more people. I asked him if he has tried rooting into New Heaven and the New Earth. He was curious to try it and asked me to write down what I had said. I shared a little bit about how Hawaii was the first place I fell in love with earth, and how in Peru it felt like plugging into the Mother Board - like it breathed me in different ways, and I felt like, “THIS is how it is SUPPOSED TO BE BE!” He told me that he feels really alive when he travels to other countries and feels there might be somewhere out there for him that feels EVEN better than Madison, and I encouraged him to put Peru on his go-to list. Soon two lovely young women sat down nearby. My young friend asked if he could email me at the address listed on my email newsletter, and I said that he could, and I would look forward to hearing any of his thoughts. I shook the first young man’s hand, finally getting his name, and both young men and I exchanged soul smiles. I love being around people unafraid to make deep and lasting eye contact, soul to soul without any connotations of anything except pure soul happily saying “hello, it’s nice to be in this space with you.” And with that it was time for us to go rejoin our animal lover who was awaiting our arrival home.