Hello and welcome to my first blog on my new website—a space that, yes, symbolizes a business, but only because we live in a world where capitalism demands that even our sacred offerings be exchanged for financial support. Underneath the structure of “business,” this is so much more.

This site, this space, this blog—they are extensions of me. Of my voice. Of my truth. Of my own self-expression, devotion, healing, and reverence. They are altars more than advertisements. Invitations more than transactions.

This space is part of my offering to the world.

I know that what lives here may not resonate with everyone. And I honor that. I trust the natural rhythm of resonance—that what is meant to find you, will. If my words or my work land in your body like a soft exhale or a steady remembering, then I welcome you. I’m so glad you’re here.

So, why Reverie?

A Sacred Beginning

The word came to me not through a brainstorming session, but through a mystical moment. A gift. A whisper from the divine.

I was in Egypt—on sacred land, in sacred company—with a group of soul sisters gathered in devotion to the feminine archetypes that live within us and alongside us. We were there to reconnect with ancient wisdom, to remember what our modern world often forgets: that the first humans understood the power of the divine feminine, and that her wisdom is still alive in our bones.

In one particularly life-altering moment, I stood face-to-face with the statue of the goddess Sekhmet. It was a one-on-one encounter, and I approached it with skeptical awe. Sekhmet—lioness, warrior, healer, destroyer of illusions. She is not here to coddle. She is here to awaken.

That moment changed me. It cracked something open. It was there, in the silence between breath and heartbeat, that I practiced the art of receiving. Not striving, not proving. Just receiving.

And the gifts she gave me were these:

God is not punitive.
Stand in your power.
Hold reverence for all life.

These three truths struck a deep, soul-level chord in me. They rearranged the architecture of my inner world.

Undoing the Punitive God

I was raised in a religious tradition that taught me a God who punished. A God who demanded humility through self-erasure. A God who measured righteousness by how quiet, compliant, and small I could make myself.

But even as a child, I felt the wrongness of it. I didn’t have the language for it back then, but I had the knowing. I knew—deep in my belly, deep in my bones—that no divine force worth listening to would ask me to abandon my voice or my power in order to be loved.

And yet, because I longed to belong—as all humans do—I did shrink. I did silence myself. For years.

But no longer.

“Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart.
Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.”

— Carl Jung

Reverie as Reclamation

I stand in my power now. I use my voice. I practice reverence—in my relationships, my rituals, my work, and in the way I live my life. Through this practice of reverence, the word Reverie arrived.

It wasn’t just a name—it was a soul imprint. A clear “yes” in my body. Reverie felt like the container and the dream I had been preparing to create my whole life.

At first glance, reverie is often defined as a daydream—a gentle drifting of the mind. But underneath that softness is a deeper potency.

Reverie is imagination untethered from control. It is what happens when we allow ourselves to remember without shame, to feel without censoring, to dream without agenda. It is the liminal space where healing becomes possible. Where something ancient stirs.

Reverie is sacred wandering.

And in a world that tries to keep us confined and contained, that kind of wandering is revolutionary.

The Foundation of This Offering

As Reverie continues to evolve—from individual sessions to group spaces, from journal prompts to community rituals—one thing will never change: reverence will always be the foundation.

Reverence for life. For truth. For softness. For grief. For joy. For the body. For the ancestors. For the sacred inner knowing we all carry.

This is not just a business offering. This is a prayerful one.

It’s a call to those who’ve felt like they had to choose between their healing and their wholeness. Between science and spirit. Between softness and strength. Between being palatable and being powerful.

You don’t have to choose anymore.

A Dream Space for the In-Between

Reverie is a space for the ones in between identities, in between paradigms, in between systems that never quite fit. For the ones shedding old skins. For the ones wondering who they are without the mask, without the armor.

For the queers. For the creatives. For the cycle-breakers and truth-tellers and lineage-healers.

This is for you.

Reverie is a space where you get to imagine something new—something softer, wilder, and more true. Not just in theory, but in your body. In your daily rhythms. In your relationships. In the stories you tell yourself about who you are and what you’re here to do.

Reverie is a home for that sacred becoming.

A Note on Belonging

If you’ve ever been told that you were too sensitive, too emotional, too dreamy, too much—welcome. You belong here.

If you’ve felt burned by institutional religion or sterile mental health systems that didn’t honor your complexity or your sacredness—welcome. You belong here.

If you’re grieving, transforming, exploring, or just trying to stay soft in a world that wants to harden you—welcome. You belong here.

Reverie is not a one-size-fits-all solution. It is an offering. A co-creation. A practice of reverent witnessing.

“Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.”

— Brené Brown

In Closing

Naming something is an act of creation.
When I named this space Reverie, I was naming a prayer. A truth. A promise.
Reverie is where my voice, my power, and my reverence converge.
And now, I offer it to you.

May this space serve as a reminder that healing is possible.
That softness is strength.
And that you are already whole.

awe and gratitude at the Great Pyramids of Giza

If this resonates with you, I would love to hear what it stirs in your heart. Feel free to leave a comment, or reach out directly. This work is relational—thank you for being here in it with me.

Why Reverie?