I’m at a point in my life where I’ve really learned to appreciate how blessed I am and I took some time post Libra Eclipse to reflect on the past 6 months.

Family holidays used to be about creating magic — glitter trails, hidden eggs, baskets stuffed with sweetness. These days, it’s quieter. Simpler. And somehow, more sacred. It’s not about the gifts anymore. It’s about being with the people I love. Being present. Feeling the land beneath my feet. Letting the noise of the world settle long enough for gratitude to rise.

This Easter, we returned to Fraser Lake — our place. Our reset.
And I felt it more than ever.
The blessing of just being together.

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Healing Isn’t Always Pretty

One of my daughters is on a pretty strict diet right now, healing her gut after a wild few months of discomfort and unknowns. Honestly? It hasn’t been easy. These last four months have stretched me. As a mother. As a woman. As someone who’s walked with others through their pain for nearly two decades.

I’ve learned so much in this process — about the body, about food, about patience, and about how precious health really is.

It echoed something I already knew, something that hit deep during last year’s visits to Toronto General — when someone I deeply admire was being tested to see if a lung transplant might be needed. That time cracked me open in a different way. Life is so fragile. And every breath is a gift.

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Letting Go of Old Versions

I even quit soccer — something I never thought I’d do.
But Pluto moved into Aquarius last year, and with it, a new energy arrived.
After 19 years of inner fights, giving more than I need to and survival energy, I can finally feel something shifting. A softer power. A knowing that says: you don’t have to push anymore.

And of course — Aquarius is in my fourth house.
My IC is at 24 degrees.
Lilith sits at 21.
This isn’t just an astrological transit for me.
This is a rewrite of home, family, and foundation.
This is the beginning of a new era of service — and I feel it most deeply in the work we’re building through Right to Heal and the creation of the RedPath Wellness Centre.

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My Greatest Teachers

Then life, in its beautiful and brutal way, teaches me again—
through my children and my mother.

My youngest was diagnosed with mono, and what followed was months of discomfort, uncertainty, gut issues, food restrictions, pain, and constant appointments.
And through it all — she taught me.

She taught me that healing isn’t linear.
That food is medicine.
That knowing your body is powerful.
That listening to your body is an act of love.
And that even when life feels like too much, we keep showing up, because we love deeply.

And my mother — Big Mama —
she teaches me what it means to keep going,
even when the world says it’s impossible.

She’s the reason the RedPath Centre exists.
She’s the voice that reminds me to think bigger,
to hold the line when it matters most,
to walk with the ones who’ve been forgotten
and to build healing spaces that feel like home.

She leads with heart,
not ego.
With spirit, not just systems.
And she reminds me that service isn’t about sacrifice —
it’s about alignment.

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The Circle Continues

We finally get to see someone at Sick Kids next week.
My daughter is learning what she can and can’t eat now.
Still managing headaches and bellyaches —
but she got to play with her cousins this weekend.
She laughed. She felt joy.
She ate turkey —
and that was enough.

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The Land Speaks

Back at Fraser Lake, the wild ones were waiting.
We were greeted by a family of deer — standing still at the tree line, as if welcoming us home.
Eagles fished and nested.
Ravens called.
Loons returned to the newly open water.
Otters played as the last of the ice floated away.
Even the turkey vultures showed up, doing their sacred work — clearing what’s dead to make space for what’s next.

The ancestors were close.
I could feel them all around us.

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This Is What Healing Sounds Like

As the moon wanes and Taurus season settles in, I’m reminded that this pace — this slowness — is sacred.

We don’t need to bloom every day.
Sometimes, it’s enough to just breathe
and be held by the world.

And then… something magical happened.
Matthew Brill, one of our RedPath program participants, shared his final piece of homework: a song.
Written from the heart.
Written for the last session of the program.
Written as an answer to the question:

“What gifts do you have to offer the world?”

His song is called “Better Every Day.”
And it’s for my mom.
For me.
For you.
For every one of us who has walked through pain
and chosen to stay.

He said:

“This was my last homework song.
I sent it to your mom.
It’s for her, for you, and for all the community
who made space for me to work through my trauma
and get to a better place.
Getting better every day.”

This video is part of the Right to Heal story now.
A song that will echoes through the walls of Right to Heal.
A reminder of what’s possible when someone is seen,
heard, and held in their becoming.

This is what healing sounds like.
This is why we do the work.

And as I sat there, watching that video,
with my daughter resting beside me,
my mom’s legacy pulsing in everything we’ve built—
I felt it.

The beauty of this life.
Not because it’s easy.
But because it’s true.

It took years of work to cultivate my inner world—
to come home to myself,
to face what hurt,
to soften what hardened,
to choose love again and again.

But now I see…
That inner world?
It’s blooming around me.

In my children.
In the land.
In every circle, every session, every story shared.
In the song of someone brave enough to speak their truth.

This is my life.
And it’s more beautiful than I ever imagined.

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Join Us Under the New Moon in Taurus

Monday, April 28, 2025
6:30–7:30 PM
@ Right to Heal, Peterborough

Come as you are.
Root into your body.
Plant new intentions with care.
Let the earth hold you
as you begin again.

Together, we’ll honour the stillness,
set seeds of grounded magic,
and move from inner alignment
toward outer creation.

This is your invitation
to breathe, to soften,
and to remember:
you are the garden
and the gardener.