The Tower & The Child: The Alchemy of Letting Go

When I pulled The Tower this morning, I smiled the way you do when sometimes the cards call your soul’s bluff.

Scorpio season always brings lessons in destruction and renewal—but this year, the themes are sharper.

I’m walking through my Chiron return, a season of reckoning and rebirth, with my progressed Moon in Scorpio illuminating what must be released.

So it feels fitting to write about one of my own Tower moments—the kind that unravels everything you think you know about love, faith, and control.

As someone born with a natal complex with Pluto, I’ve known my fair share of collapse and resurrection.

But one particular initiation—the one that first cracked my heart wide open—began the day I became a foster parent.

The Call to Nurture

Over a decade ago, I answered the quiet call to foster.

But, like many things in life, you don’t realize what that commitment means until you are in the middle of it—until your heart becomes both sanctuary and battlefield.

Sometimes, fostering is simple sacred service: a temporary place of healing until a child can safely return home.

But there are also cases where your intuition whispers that returning home may not bring safety or stability.

Those are the ones that keep you awake at night—the ones that test your trust in the Divine’s plan.

My very first placement was such a case.

A bright, beautiful child whose spirit seemed to shine despite all he’d endured.

For six months, I was his entire world—and he, mine.

I took time off work to care for him full-time, channeling every ounce of love and intention into creating safety, rhythm, and warmth.

At the time, I was just beginning to practice manifestation and energy work.

Each month, I visualized his future: a home filled with laughter, security, and belonging.

I set intentions, cleared trauma, and believed I was co-creating the outcome with Spirit.

And miracles did happen.

His health improved, his joy returned, his energy radiated wholeness again.

Then came the call.

A family member—previously deemed unfit—was granted custody.

My knees buckled. The anger, grief, and disbelief came in waves.

And after the storm, only silence remained.

It was in that silence that I finally began to hear what the Divine had been whispering all along.

The Fall

That silence became my teacher.

It showed me that I had not been surrendering—I had been bargaining.

I had wrapped control in the language of faith, gripping the outcome because I was terrified of losing what I had grown to so deeply love.

It was a revelation that cut straight to my core wound:

that deep, ancient belief that safety depends on control.

That love will abandon me unless I manage every variable.

That the unknown cannot be trusted.

But true surrender is not passive.

It is an act of sacred courage—a willingness to release your timeline and trust that the Divine intelligence within all things knows more than you do.

When I finally unclenched my heart and let go, I felt something remarkable: the quiet hum of peace beneath all of the layers of pain.

It was as if the Universe exhaled through me, whispering, “Now, let Me.”

The Tower fell, but in its rubble, I found truth.

That love does not need control to be real.

That faith begins precisely where certainty ends.

That the soul’s evolution often hides inside the heartbreaks we resist most.

The Alchemy of Allowing

This is the Scorpionic art—the sacred death that precedes rebirth.

To allow is not to give up; it is to stop interfering with the Divine choreography.

When we surrender, the ego mourns what it cannot fix, but the soul begins to bloom in the dark.

That’s the paradox: our deepest transformation doesn’t come from holding on—it comes from allowing collapse to do its most sacred work.

The moment I stopped clinging to how I thought things should unfold, the energy shifted.

Grace entered.

I began to feel life moving through me rather than against me.

It was as if the Universe took my broken plans and wove them into a pattern too vast for me to initially see.

This was not loss.

It was initiation.

And through it, I was reborn into my Empress self—the mother who loves without possession, who is learning to create without demand, and who trusts the unseen cycles of death and rebirth. Breaking the generational cycles before me, and helping to heal ancestral patterning that has been carried in my lineage for far too long.

The Rebuild

From that soil of surrender, everything changed.

My intuition opened.

My spiritual gifts began to softly awaken.

My understanding of love transformed.

Looking back, I see that The Tower never came to destroy me—it came to free me.

It stripped away the illusion that I was ever in control, revealing the truth that I have always been held.

Sometimes grace wears the mask of devastation.

Sometimes love’s highest act is to let go.

And sometimes, the collapse you fear most is simply your soul rearranging itself into greater alignment.

Final Blessing

If you are standing in your own Tower moment, trembling at the edge of surrender, know this:

You are not being punished—you are being purified.

The fire is making space for what’s real.

Let it.

Because when you finally release the need to control the outcome,

you make room for miracles that were waiting for your yes all along.

Wishing you much love along your journey, now and always,

Seraph

Unraveling the Savior Shadow

Lately, life has been pulling me through a quiet reckoning.

Every lesson seems to reach down into the roots of my oldest wiring—

the places formed in childhood, where silence meant safety

and love, had to somehow, be earned.

From those early imprints grow certain shadows—

the ones that whisper, If I can just help enough, give enough, fix enough,

I’ll finally be safe. I’ll finally be loved. …I’ll finally be enough.

It’s from that shadow that I’ve sometimes held on too tightly.

Not out of malice, but out of a tenderness that doesn’t know where to land.

Out of a need to try to keep everything from unraveling.

Out of a desire to genuinely love…to help…and to encourage.

Have you ever seen someone’s light so vividly that you long for them to see it too?

You pour in your energy, your hope, your heart—

until you realize the helping has become holding.

And somewhere along the way, the holding has slipped into enabling and control.

That realization burns.

It humbles.

It dismantles the illusion that love and rescue are the same thing.

Sometimes the deepest devotion isn’t in what we do for others,

but in what we refuse to keep doing.

It’s stepping back.

Letting the Divine—not our own will—have the final say.

Surrender is not the same as indifference.

It’s trust, stripped bare.

There’s a moment in every healer’s journey

when they must learn the difference between being of service and being in saviorhood.

One honors free will.

The other quietly violates it.

I used to see surrender as weakness.

My inner achiever called it quitting. Giving up. Lowering my standards. Abandoning.

But I’m learning that true surrender is the ultimate expression of power— and of love -

the kind that doesn’t grasp, doesn’t chase, doesn’t perform.

It breathes. It allows. It honors free will and the messiness of life - and it lets life do the rearranging. And, allows Spirit to take the lead.

When we unclench our grip on how we think things should unfold,

we make space for unseen forces to move.

Sometimes that means doors close.

Sometimes it means people fall away.

But it always means truth takes the throne again.

So ask yourself:

    •    Where are you holding on to something that’s asking to be released?

    •    What outcome have you been trying to “manage” out of fear it might fall apart or disappoint you?

    •    Whose healing have you mistaken for your responsibility?

    •    When in your life did you learn these patterns? How can you help your body to re-identify safety in relationship - in a way that honors surrender and liberation?

The shadow of fixing runs deep—it’s tender, ancient, and born from love that learned to overwork. To prove. To take take responsibility for burdens that were never theirs to carry.

But there’s liberation in naming it.

There’s power in loosening its hold.

And there’s peace in remembering that your love is no less pure when you finally let go.

We don’t always rise in the light.

Sometimes, we rise in the dark-

but only when we finally stop trying to save what was never ours to carry.

With much love always, for every step of your journey,

— Seraph 🖤

Healing Conditional Worth: My Grand Cross and the Myth of Constant Motion

There was a time in my life when silence felt like death.

If I wasn’t producing, achieving, or holding everything together, an invisible dread crept in—an emptiness so dense it hummed behind my ribs.

I didn’t call it fear back then.

I called it discipline.

I called it strength.

I called it drive.

But underneath, I was terrified that if I stopped moving, I’d somehow vanish.

That my life would never achieve it’s full potential and purpose.

That’s what happens when worth is welded to motion—

when every pause feels like proof you’ve failed.

The Architecture of Pressure

I was born under a Grand Cardinal Cross—four engines firing in opposite directions.

Aries. Cancer. Libra. Capricorn.

Four voices whispering, go, do, fix, prove.

It’s cosmic ambition written into my bones.

But that geometry can turn sacred fire and leadership into self-exile.

Because that same force that builds worlds can burn its creator alive.

No one tells you that success has a heartbeat,

and sometimes it’s loud and driven enough, to drown out your own.

If you allow it.

The Hidden Transaction

But back then, I was not yet awakened. I was still operating my life on autopilot.

For decades I lived inside an unspoken contract I carried deep within: produce or disappear.

Love, safety, belonging—everything seemed to live on the other side of effort.

If I just achieved a little more, maybe I’d finally rest.

But rest never came.

Every victory dissolved into the next mountain to climb.

The applause was fleeting; and the ache I carried was always present.

That’s the poison of conditional worth:

it never lets you arrive.

The Moment the Engine Stalled

Burnout didn’t crash in—it eroded me.

It took years.

But, little by little, the drive that had once made me unstoppable became a kind of gravity well.

Until one day, I woke up and couldn’t fake ignition any longer.

The silence was brutal.

It stripped me of every identity that had ever earned me approval.

No titles, no output, no accolades—just me.

No more distractions that had allowed me to hide from myself all those years.

And I didn’t know how to meet her.

Stillness wasn’t peace yet; at that moment, it felt like exposure.

It was foreign, raw, and incredibly uncomfortable.

But exposure is sometimes the exact crossroad where transformation begins.

The Descent

At first, the deafening quiet felt like failure.

But then it became my mirror.

I saw the child who learned far too early that love was safer when she was useful and performing.

I saw the woman who mistook motion for meaning, worth, and identity.

I saw how praise became the drug, and productivity the needle.

I saw with sober realization all the years that I had been feeding my worth to the fire just to keep it burning and alive.

Only to ignore my own inner growth.

So I let it die.

Not instantly.

Certainly not without futile attempts to negotiate, bargain, and plead.

But in my own way and timing, through my own reckoning with truth and self.

And in the ashes, I found something I’d never recognized—

a pulse that didn’t depend on achievement.

The unearthing of a well that has grown into a source of my deepest joy, purpose, and fulfillment.

Reclaiming the Body

Healing came slowly, through my body first.

Learning to breathe without measuring the inhale. Without any witness, applause, or measurement mark.

I allowed myself to finally just be.

Letting a day pass without proof of progress.

Letting myself fully feel the twitch of guilt and choosing to stay anyway.

Worth became a practice of presence.

And presence became a daily benchmark of choosing to stay and not dissociate, even when it hurt and was uncomfortable.

The Grand Cross still hums in me—

but now its momentum moves through muscle, not anxiety.

It creates art, not panic.

It builds from an internal well of devotion, and not depletion.

And I intentionally choose when and how to engage and direct it.

Integration

My chart hasn’t changed, but my relationship to it has.

The Cross that once chained me to motion now fuels sacred creation.

I no longer chase worth—I remember it.

When I rest, nothing collapses.

When I’m silent, I’m still here.

When I move, it’s for joy, not survival.

This is what it means to alchemize a pattern:

to turn the same energy that once consumed and dominated you

into the fire that illuminates your path.

And supports and allows you to radiate in your alignment.

“My stillness is not the absence of power.

It is the moment I return to myself.”

Reflection Practice

If you’re walking this same path, these reflections may help you listen more deeply to your own rhythm.

    1.    Where does motion become a shield in my life?

    2.    What am I afraid will surface if I stop performing?

    3.    What part of me still confuses exhaustion with devotion?

    4.    How can I let fire become warmth instead of proof?

May the ones who have carried far too heavy burdens on their backs finally set them down.

May the builders remember they were always born whole.

And may every Grand Cross heart learn that its worth was never forged in the doing—

it was carved in the stillness before the first spark.

May your journey to fullness, sovereignty, and deep, authentic joy always lead you home.

With much love, always,

Seraph

The Archetype of the Fool: The Sacred Leap Into Your Soul’s Evolution

The Fool is card 0—a circle, both empty and infinite. He is the place where endings collapse into beginnings, where innocence and mastery meet.

In early tarot decks, there were actually two Fools—one at the beginning and one at the end of the Major Arcana. From them came the Jokers in modern playing cards—wild cards that exist outside the rules. The Fool reminds us that your soul’s path is not about playing by the rules—it’s about learning to trust the flow of Spirit.

Lessons of the Fool:

    •    Trust the unknown. The path is revealed one step at a time.

    •    Travel light. Freedom arrives when we let go of baggage and control.

    •    Begin again. Every ending is an invitation to rebirth.

    •    Sacred risk. Growth and transformation live at the edge, not in the comfort zone.

    •    Feminine flow. The Fool doesn’t force or strategize—he aligns, responds, and allows life to carry him.

Shadows: Where the Fool Can Trip Us Up

    •    Recklessness - mistaking chaos for freedom.

    •    Escaping responsibility under the guise of “freedom”. Avoidance through the costume of adventure.

    •    Becoming jaded; losing innocence to cynicism after wounds.

    •    Insecurity; being mocked, misunderstood, or dismissed by a world that fears surrender.

The Fool’s challenge is to stay aligned—moving in trust with Spirit, not in avoidance. Holding on to wonder without losing discernment. Staying open-hearted, even after we’ve been hurt.

The Fool’s Gifts

    •    Creative genius: Infinite possibility springs from nothingness. Alignment with your life path and trusting the flow of opportunity often sparks genius and magical synchronicities.

    •    Magnetism: Authentic joy naturally attracts people and opportunities.

    •    Resilience: Every stumble becomes sacred wisdom.

    •    Beginner’s mind: The courage to reinvent yourself again and again.

    •    Detachment: When we release attachment to outcomes, we live in Spirit’s flow—and miracles enter with ease.

Perhaps the greatest gift: The Fool never forgets that life is meant to be lived, not controlled.

The Fool Across Wisdom Systems

The Fool shows up across countless wisdom traditions, each revealing a different facet of his medicine. Here are just a few examples of how this archetype appears.

    •    Gene Keys: The Fool mirrors the transformation from shadow into gift. For instance, the “shadow” of the Gene Key of Purposelessness often feels like wandering without direction—yet this is the very soil in which the gift of Totality (living fully engaged and present in life) is born. Think of someone leaving a career that no longer fits, feeling “lost” - only to discover that in letting go, a deeper calling emerges. In other keys, innocence matures into universal love, echoing the Fool’s unguarded, trusting heart.

    •    Human Design: The Fool embodies the Generator’s sacred response—waiting to engage with what life offers and invites rather than forcing outcomes. As this is often when the magic unfolds. Picture this: a casual “yes” to an unexpected conversation leads to a profound relationship or opportunity. This is the Fool’s magic—life opening when we are aligned with Spirit’s invitations.

    •    Astrology: The Fool channels Uranus’s liberation and sudden disruption, Neptune’s dreamy innocence, and Sagittarius/9th House’s quest for truth. Think of a Uranus transit that upends your life—painful in the moment, yet later revealing itself as the crack through which your soul light poured forth and you began to live more authentically. Whenever these archetypes light up in your chart, you are being invited to leap into your next evolution.

The Fool is the archetype that bridge all systems: he is the risk of not knowing, and the reward of discovering. In every system, the Fool teaches the same thing: alignment with Spirit’s flow is not passive—it is the most courageous act of surrender. And often, when the most beautiful magic begins to unfold.

How the Fool Unlocks Growth

    •    Creativity awakens when perfectionism dissolves.

The Fool doesn’t wait for perfect conditions—he creates as he goes. Start messy, respond to the moment, and you’ll find inspiration pouring through you. Creativity is the child of trust, not control.

    •    Fear transforms when failure becomes initiation.

The Fool knows there is no such thing as wasted experience. Every wrong turn, every fall, becomes compost for wisdom. When we shift from “I failed” to “I learned,” we alchemize fear into growth. Fear dissolves when failure becomes a sacred teacher instead of a punishment.

    •    Faith strengthens when you discover the net always appears.

The net isn’t visible until you leap. But think back—every time you dared to risk (love, relocation, new work, new path), wasn’t there always something that caught you? Spirit always meets us mid-air. The Fool shows us that life is not here to punish us, but to hold us as we risk becoming more.

    •    Joy heals because play is sacred medicine.

Play reopens the heart. It quiets the inner critic and invites the nervous system back into regulation. Joy is not frivolous—it is a spiritual practice, a feminine flow state that magnetizes abundance.

    •    Evolution accelerates when you release attachment.

This is perhaps the Fool’s deepest teaching. We cannot cling to outcomes and still walk in Spirit’s flow. Detachment does not mean apathy—it means trusting that what falls away was never meant to stay, and what is aligned will arrive in perfect timing. At some point we stop waiting to be ready, and just take the leap. And, in releasing control, we step into flow—and flow always carries us where we are meant to go.

Practices to Embody the Fool

Reflections:

    •    Where am I hesitating to leap without certainty?

    •    What identity or outcome am I clinging to that Spirit is asking me to release?

    •    How might my life expand if I chose trust and flow instead of control?

    •    How can I invite more presence into my day today?

Embodiment Practice

Dance barefoot outdoors—no choreography, no music, just the rhythm of your body. This is Fool energy: moving in presence, free from the mind’s judgment, carried only by Spirit. Embrace freedom, connection, and spontaneity in your body today in some form or way - be fully present in that moment and allow yourself to connect.

Simple Ritual Idea:

    •    Choose a talisman (stone, feather, flower).

    •    Place it on your altar as your Fool’s Charm.

    •    Each day, hold it and ask: Spirit, where are you inviting me to trust today?

    •    Affirm: “I release attachment. I leap into the flow of life, and life always catches me.”

The Fool is not foolish. He is the sacred wanderer who knows that the map is written only as we walk it. He is not here to make sense to the world. He is here to make sense of the soul. He walks between beginnings and endings, laughing at the illusion of control, showing us that alignment with Spirit is the only true safety.

To embody the Fool is to live unattached, yet deeply engaged and present. To let go of the script, yet meet each moment with your whole heart. This is where freedom lives - not in certainty, but in trust.

The Fool whispers: You cannot cling and fly and fly at the same time.

He is the bridge between masculine planning and feminine surrender, showing us that the flow of Spirit is not weakness, but the highest form of wisdom.

When you live in this flow, you discover the secret paradox:

You were never falling. You were always being carried.

Astrology for Joy & Peace: How Your Chart Can Help You Thrive in a Chaotic World

We live in an age of speed. News cycles, inboxes, and to-do lists that seem to never end. Add children, work, hobbies, house and yard maintenance, and any type of extracurricular activities and obligations, and it just doesn’t seem like there are ever enough hours in the day.

Your astrology chart holds the keys that can point you towards inviting more joy, peace, and presence. It’s not about escaping chaos, but learning how to navigate it with wisdom and meaning. And, learning how to invite more balance into your life.

Your chart is like a personal guidebook: it shows you where to rest, where to play, and how to come home to yourself.

The Moon: Your Emotional Anchor

Your Moon describes what nourishes your nervous system. When life feels chaotic, tending your Moon is like taking a long exhale.

Examples:

    •    An Aries Moon might find peace in a quick jog, catching a comedy show, or dancing in the kitchen.

    •    A Taurus Moon may feel restored by baking bread, drinking tea, tending a garden, or taking a long bath.

    •    A Gemini Moon might calm their mind by journaling, joining a book club, or having a playful chat with a friend.

    •    A Pisces Moon may need to put on music, cry, and let the emotions wash through. Or they may find sitting near the beach or joining a sound bath session becomes their favorite new destressing jam.

Tip: Next time you feel scattered, do one simple activity for your Moon sign. Notice how quickly your system resets.

The Rising Sign: Daily Alignment Practices

Your Rising Sign is the doorway you walk through each day. When honored, it makes life feel smoother and less resistant.

Examples:

    •    Leo Rising: Wear bold colors, try adding solar or sun salutations to your morning routine, tap into an inner child activity that brings you joy, give a genuine compliment to someone each day. Joy comes when you shine, light others up, and connect with your inner creative genius.

    •    Virgo Rising: Create a 10-minute morning ritual—make your bed, light a candle, write a to-do list. Order = peace. You could also try barefoot meditation outdoors, gardening, or joining a productivity or organizing app such as Finch.

    •    Capricorn Rising: Keep a weekly planner. List your top 3 must dos each morning. Morning yoga, boundaries with tech (protect your focus), evening reflection in which you write one sentence on how you honored your long term goals. Even small goals achieved bring a sense of calm progress to your Earth moon.

    •    Pisces Rising: Begin your day with meditation or prayer. Quiet mornings ripple into calmer days. Dream journaling, one small act of kindness daily, energetic maintenance, walks in nature.

Venus: Your Joy Frequency

Venus shows where you find sweetness and delight. Stress melts when you connect with your Venus.

Examples:

    •    Venus in Sagittarius → plan a spontaneous day trip, take a new class that lights you up, or read an inspiring book.

    •    Venus in Libra → rearrange your home, add some favorite flowers, or go to an art exhibit.

    •    Venus in Cancer → host a cozy dinner, cuddle, make a favorite family recipe.

    •    Venus in Capricorn → invest in a quality item that makes life feel elegant and stable. Take a structured creativity class - pottery, weaving, woodworking - something that produces something tangible.

Venus reminds us: joy doesn’t have to be big—it can be woven into small, daily pleasures.

Ceres: Your Inner Nourishment

Ceres reveals how you give and receive care. Many of us burn out because we ignore this placement.

Examples:

    •    Ceres in Virgo: Peace through meal prep, herbal teas, or organizing your pantry.

    •    Ceres in Gemini: Nourishment through books, podcasts, coffee out with friends or bookclubs, and lively chats.

    •    Ceres in Scorpio: Recharging with energy work like reiki or breathwork, shadow work, fasting, or sacred intimacy.

    •    Ceres in Aries: Restoring energy by starting something new, even if small. Other ideas include any type of high intensity cardiovascular activity like running, kickboxing, hot yoga.

Tip: Make one Ceres-aligned activity part of your week—it becomes an anchor point you can always return to.

The 5th House: Your Playground of Joy

The 5th house shows where your inner child lives. It’s the antidote to overwork and stress.

Examples:

    •    5th house in Aquarius → learning something new (like astrology!), community theater, stargazing, escape room meetup with friends, etc.

    •    5th house in Cancer → scrapbooking, cooking with kids, revisit a favorite childhood game or host a family game night with friends.

    •    5th house in Leo → painting, performing, catch a comedy night show, or even just singing loudly in the car.

    •    5th house in Taurus → nature walks, chocolate or wine tasting, picnics, investing games, any new tactile class or hobby - flower arranging, knitting, sculpting or painting, pampering spa day, etc.

The 5th house teaches that joy isn’t a luxury. It’s medicine.

The IC: Rooted Peace

Your IC is your private sanctuary—the inner home you carry with you.

Examples:

    •    IC in Sagittarius → joy in travel, storytelling, taking new classes, or decorating with global treasures.

    •    IC in Capricorn → peace through family traditions, financial or long term goal planning, or creating stability at home.

    •    IC in Gemini → joy through bookshelves, writing nooks, trivia games, and cozy conversations.

    •    IC in Scorpio→ time alone, meditating in stillness, water baths, occult studies like tarot.

The IC whispers: “When in doubt, return to what feels like home in your bones.”

Asteroids: Subtle But Powerful Guides

While subtle, asteroids can often hit uncannily true. They add nuance to your joy & peace toolkit. Some you could layer and consider might be:

    •    Euterpe (27): Look to the house in your chart where music, art, and delight uplift you.

    •    Amor (1221): How love energy softens your life.

    •    Hygiea (10): Rituals of cleansing—like yoga, baths, or decluttering—that restore health.

    •    Vesta (4): Where tending a sacred flame (a practice, altar, or project) can help add calm focus.

    •    Psyche (16): Where your soul longs for beauty, intimacy, and gentleness.

Example: Someone with Vesta in the 6th house (the house of daily work and routine) may find peace in lighting a candle before starting their daily tasks—it’s simple, but profoundly centering. My suggestion? Try an idea or two and see if they land. If they do and its something you enjoy, its worth considering at least temporarily adding to your daily routine and evaluating in a month to see if it makes a meaningful difference.

Final Reflection

Chaos will always exist in the outer world. But your chart offers you some personalized hints of where you can look to reclaim a sense of calm, nurturing self activities, and ways to reconnect to your inner joy. There will nearly always be nuances - aspects, transits, progressions, day/night chart differences, rulers, sects, etc. - but it provides a really wonderful foundation from which you can start off with and build upon. So, in summary the key placements you may want to consider starting with would be:

    •    Moon = emotional reset

    •    Rising = daily rhythm

    •    Venus = delight

    •    Ceres = nourishment

    •    5th House = play

    •    IC = rooted peace

    •    Asteroids = subtle allies

The more you honor these placements, the less life feels like survival—and the more it feels like true, embodied living.

Next time the world feels heavy, open your chart and ask: Where is joy waiting to be invited back in? You may discover something small and simple that brings you significant more life balance.

Journal Reflections:

    •    Moon Sign: “What simple ritual always soothes me when I feel scattered?”

    •    Rising Sign: “How can I honor my rising sign tomorrow morning to set the tone for the day?”

    •    Venus: “What small pleasure can I indulge in today that will reconnect me to beauty and pleasure in life?”

    •    Ceres: “What does true nourishment look like for me right now—and am I giving it to myself?”

    •    5th House: “When was the last time I let myself play without expectation? How can I recreate that?”

    •    IC: “What does ‘home’ mean to me, and how can I bring more of that energy into my daily life?”