The Audacity & Alchemy of You...
What Love wants me to know about writing...
A devotional note from the edge of my solar return.
On June 1st, the door to my birthday month opened — and with it, a tidal wave of confirmation.
Not performance. Not promotion. Just presence and praise.
I had the honor of being featured in Elizabeth Gilbert’s, Letters from Love, where she invites writers to pen a letter to Love.
My letter poured through me — and then poured into hundreds. Thousands, even.
And Liz… sweet, brilliant Liz… didn’t just share my letter.
She shared me.
My family. My voice. My gift.
I’ve spent the last few days swimming through over 400+ comments — not skimming, but sipping — reading the way strangers became soul witnesses, quoting my words back to me with reverence, telling me what they felt, what stirred, what cracked open in them.
And it reminded me of something I forgot I knew:
That writing is not a side gift.
It is a full spell.
A sacred profession.
A pleasureable, powerful, pulsating medicine.
My gift is not an inconvenience. It is an inheritance.
So here I am. Standing at the top of my solar return season.
Not begging to be seen — but receiving the ones who see.
This month, this portal, this page — it’s all a love letter.
Not just to writing. But to the audacity of returning to what’s always been mine.
hmmm. I feel like going deeper.
Come with me.
You want to know what writing really is?
It’s alchemy.
It’s blood turned to blessing.
It’s rage that learned how to walk itself home.
It’s the audacity to believe that I can speak to people I’ve never met,
in languages they forgot they knew,
about things they’ve never said out loud.
It’s refusing to call this a hobby
just because the world only respects what it can monetize.
It’s a love affair with clarity.
It’s sweat.
It’s prayer.
It’s mess.
It’s mine.
And when I ask people to subscribe —
when I say, support this,
I’m not begging.
I’m inviting you into the sacred economy of soul work.
Because this is not a blog.
This is a breathing temple.
And if you find yourself here, wide awake with me at this hour- any hour,
then maybe your words are hungry too.
Maybe you’re here to witness.
Maybe you’re here to remember.
Either way — I’m still writing.
There is something that all writers ache for, underneath the analytics and Substack stats, validating comments and subscription counts:
To be read like scripture.
To be listened to as if our words aren’t decoration, but divination.
To be told: “Your thoughts are not too much. You’re medicine. Your words are a balm and a salve. An elixir of the language of God.”
This year I decided to stop calling my writing a side gift.
Because it’s not.
It never was.
It’s the way I midwife truth.
It’s the temple I return to when the world forgets.
It’s the frequency that holds my lineage, my longing, and my light.
So when Letters from Love opened that portal —
When Elizabeth Gilbert called my name,
When strangers heard it like a familiar song —
I didn’t just feel seen.
I felt aligned.
And with that alignment came a vow.
A soul pact.
A new agreement with how I live this life as a writer, a teacher, a mother, a mystic:
Maybe you desire to make this vow with me?
I will not treat my gift like a hobby.
I will not trade my creative spirit for someone else’s urgency.
I will not say yes to hustles that dishonor my rhythms, my rituals, or my rest.
What this space — this sacred witnessing — has activated in me is this:
Time to write
Space to research
Energy to teach
And freedom to say no to anything that doesn't honor my spirit or my season
Audacity to pull silk from the shadow.
Alchemy to lay truth down like rose oil on skin.
To every new subscriber, to every reader who lingered with my words,
to every Lovelette who quoted me -with tenderness and awe:
Thank you.
Welcome to the altar.
Let’s get free.
Your paid subscription directly supports the time, space, and unfurling I need to write my first novel — a story rooted in ancestral myth, sensual power, and sacred memory.
If you’d like to walk this path with me, consider becoming a paid subscriber or gift a subscription to someone that could benefit from this writing portal.
Your support is not just appreciated — it’s part of the alchemy.
Reading this makes me cry in a good way. The way you cry when your highest self senses you moving in the right direction and yells “YES! This!!” The way I cry when I’m in sync, dancing with a whole room full of people to the same rhythm. The way I cry when I was reminded how I live now - I commune with property I worked so hard to call my own. From the birds to the stray kitty to the ants I watch traveling to their ant metropolis. It makes my heart happy and full to read this. The world needs you and your writing, to help awaken the sacred gift in people like me, still trying to find my way back to it. Thank you for the feels and the beautiful alchemy you create.