The Hamsa and the evil eye

You often see these as keychains, or hanging in new age stores. But, what is their origin and meaning?

The origin of the Hamsa is actually from the Islamic tradition and has nothing to do with Judaism.

It’s a safeguard and protection from the “evil eye” and various versions of bad luck.
This is also known as the “Hand of Fatima.”

Fatima,  is the daughter of prophet Mohammed, peace be upon him.
The five fingers, stand for the five commandments of Islam, and the promises that a person of the Muslim faith fulfills to enter paradise.

1) Pilgrimage to Mecca, once in a life time.
2)Public declaration of Islam
3)Giving charity
4)Fasting at Ramadan
5)Praying five times a day, facing Mecca.

Originally the hamsa was used to protect from ghosts and demons. It was believed if a house was abandoned, unclean spirits would enter.

For people who were not consistently living in their home, they would dip their hand in blue paint and put a hand print on the door. This would tell spirits to pass from the home.

The Hamsa is similar to the Jewish Mezuzah, that is placed on the door to keep the evil eye, bad luck and evil spirits out.

It was brought to Israel by the North African Jews, but was borrowed from the Islamic faith.

I have both hanging on my door front, including an ancient angelic Hebrew prayer and blessing and now an Islamic prayer too.

I love when two powerful traditions can dance in harmony and heal the world around us.
The Hamsa, or hand of Fatima is supposedly keeping out the evil eye, but why?
What is the evil eye?

The evil eye is is a conscious and subconscious act of envy, jealousy, gossip or hate, in which case, envy turns into a curse and can literally destroy a persons life.

An evil eye curse is given in three ways;

1) Slanderous thought
2) Envious speech
3) Hateful deed done by hands and feet

As soon as a envious thought or speech is uttered, an angel of destruction picks the curse up and takes it to the judgement layer of heaven.

The person who is being cursed, will have their book of life opened and the balances checked.

If the person who is being cursed does not have enough good merits( good karma) or verbal blessings from others, the damage will begin.

But, if the person who is being cursed has enough merit to pass through this evil eye trial, then the person giving the curse will receive the curse, 7 times greater.

They say that eyes are the windows of the soul, what and HOW we see, gives a blessing or a curse to those around us.

The sages of old say, it is better to receive a verbal blessing from a poor and simple man, then your invisible merit is greatly increased.

The Zohar teaches that we are constantly in the process of merit of life and death, good and bad and the balance it takes to sustain life.

A miracle is given to those whose karma or merit has accumulated for several lifetimes of incarnations on this earth.

If one is in need in this lifetime, the book of life and death, is opened and your previous lifetimes are examined.

There is a way to avoid this nightmare of evil eyes and curses.
Abundance comes through the eyes, as does poverty.

Tame your eyes, mouth, hands and feet,  instruct them away from the crime of curses.
And bless others, wish others well.

Even if others have what you desire most, by saying slanderous and envious words, you may be cursing yourself.

There are ways to remove the “evil eye” and the curses derived from it.
That takes a master scribe or holy person of great faith with a bank of blessed merit to remove it.

The evil eye or red eye, can be somewhat be dissolved by the blue eyed hand of Fatima.
It’s like energetically dipping your mind in blue paint and blessing every door and window or your life, no evil spirits or angels of jealous destruction can live here.

On the lower hand of this picture is an ancient Angelic Hebrew blessing that blocks the evil eye from the home.

The information I have shared, was passed on to me by Kabbalist, Sage, Mystic and Psychic, Rabbi Mizrahi.

Mr. Mizrahi works in the realm of energy medicine in the Kabbalistic, Jewish mystic tradition, to remove curses, obstacles and write new destinies through herbs and amulets.

Mr. Mizrahi, one month ago, blessed me as a mystic, to pray and spiritually assist others who lives are out of balance.

I’m still learning, but this photo, to a degree, can be used energetically to block the evil eye.

In conclusion we embrace the words of King Solomon and his proverbs;
“S/He who has a bountiful eye, shall be blessed.”

Bless others and please, be blessed.

Shaman rain bones

The majority of Western thought and educated parts of the world, have been conditioned to ignore intuition and our gut instinct. This antiquated spiritual system of intuition and instinct, once were archaic GPS guides for our unschooled ancestors.

It takes time and inner work to shed the limited linear mind that is stoic and only looks at numbers, facts and hard information for guidance. But ultimately we can, with enough unlearning, plug back into our ancient intuitive state of being.

Yesterday, around 2pm in the afternoon, I felt a sensation in my bones that I have been experiencing since I was a child. It’s an electric pulse that causes sensitivity and some pain, that alerts me to connect to my spiritual or third eye. I usually “see” a black circle of swirling energy, going round and round.

When this happens, it will usually rain in a day or two.

After feeling the bone sensation and energetically seeing this swirling black cloud, I told Ed that it would rain in a day or two.

He then went to his iPad looking through different weather sites, and told me that it would NOT be raining in a day or two.

I dug my heels into the ground and was persistent in telling him that it would rain and it would be best to bring in all the cushions and materials outside, as to not get wet.

Like so many, he doesn’t mean any harm by gently dismissing my intuition. The Western mind does not accept these intuitive insights as relevant information.

Slightly scoffing at my words, today in the early afternoon, despite the weather forecast the skies began to turn gray.

I sat on the deck, listening to the wind and the prayers passing through the trees.

He walked up to me, like he has done so many times before and told me, “I think you’re right, it could rain ….”

I laughed on the inside, and told him, “It will rain, its time to go inside.”

Exactly at 2pm, the dark sky opened itself and it rained for about an hour.

In these modern times, we really don’t need to rely on this Shamanic ability.

Being we have computers and advanced technical systems that can forecast these weather events.

But, in the indigenous times of our ancestors, Shamans were vital to commune with the rain, wind and earth “spirits” and energy patterns. A day or two of knowing in advance if it would rain, or fire was coming, could save the village from damage or death.

To this day, there will always be a Shaman who is born, for every village. There may not be a title or place for us, in this day and age, but we can, in our own way, rewrite the human story into one of peace, even as isolated creatures living in the forest. 😉

Today, it becomes harder to connect with this Medicine path.

Those of us who have done the intense healing work to break though the limited consciousness of doubt, usually have endured surviving Death, or a psychotic break to no longer be effected by the projected opinions and beliefs of others.

Trust your intuition and gut instinct. Remember, computers only pass along information and facts that are black and white. Shamans and Mystics, live in the gray area where rules and laws don’t apply.

The human ability to connect to future events, is a far more advanced system given to us by Creator God.

I would prefer a different alert system that bone pain, maybe a post-it note!

The rain, the wind and earth is always talking. We can reconnect to our ancient ancestral healers, and reteach ourselves to connect once again with our Mother earth energy, and lead our villages into safety and success.

Regardless of the voices around you, if you have a “feeling,” intuitive insight, or gut instinct, listen to it!

Don’t leave the future to cold and metal facts of information.

The universe is far more expanded and very much alive, and is always talking to us through myth in the invisible realms. Learn to unsee what you’ve been told to take in, and be blessed with inner vision of the Shamans knowing.

And to these old bones, thank you. It did indeed rain.

How can you tell if you are a “good” person?

If you rely on the same company that you have kept for decades, maybe the term “good” will greatly differ from other definitions defined by other groups of people.

If you are told you are a good American, by other Americans who look, think and behave like you, are you “good?”

If you are told you are a good Jew, or a good Muslim, by other Jews and Muslims, that look, think and behave like you, are you certain you are a “good” Jew or Muslim?

This is where the vital value of diversity makes a significant impact on our inner moral compass.

It can be frightening at first to break away from the pack. Have you blurred in the Zebra line patterns of sameness for so long that you’ve lost your anchor of what is what?

If you want to know if what you believe in, is true, question it.

This will push you to grow wings and take to the solitary skies as a lone eagle.

It’s when the person who is opposite of you, who once was considered an “enemy” looks at your behavior without you knowing, and says “you are good,” that becomes the truth.

Don’t count on your leaders to define your worth and goodness. How do you know by obeying the words of the same men who have instructed 7 generations before you, that they are really acting on your best behalf?

Becoming an eagle will change you. You will take the badge of diversity and wear it to every table you break bread at.

If shut your mouth, and open your ears, you will hear the opposition sitting across you, tell you your sins. Their tears will fill up your humble cup that you will drink from, until forgiveness grants you fresh waters of a new vision.

The eagle soars for the goal of peace. Freedom comes from dissolving hard walls of pride that separates us from our global family.

Free from the pack, and soaring alone, the opinions and acceptance of others no longer matters.

A compassionate God will grant wings to those who ask a greater question: am I “good?”


When every nation, every gender who is different from you can say without a doubt, yes … you are “good,” you are at the beginning of a new life.

Every person we meet, changes us with their good wisdom. The pattern that seems to be “good” is kindness, equality and the need for affection and love.

But don’t take your word for it, go seek it in the foreign hearts that currently cause you fear.

“Everything you want is on the other side of fear.”

It’s better to be told you are “good” by an unknown poor man who loves and feeds the homeless, than to be told you are “good” by famous leaders in flashy suits and silver tongues.

Break away, be a seeker of truth, spread your eagle wings, and embrace the moment when you realize you are wrong about something or someone, that is the best kind of, “good.”

Sacred role of women: Vision and Creation

There’s a story of a woman who was celebrating the new political position of her husband becoming the new City Mayor.

The parade had begun, the wife of the newly elected Mayor sat proudly on the backseat of their convertible.

As they began their celebratory drive through the streets, waving at everyone, a man caught the attention of the Mayor’s wife.

It was someone from her high school years, they had dated for awhile.

He had been washing the streets and picking up the garbage, preparing for the Mayor’s parade.

After exchanging a few words, the old friend began saying goodbye, he looked at her and said,

“Just think, if you would have married me, you would have been the wife of a garbage man!”

She smiled, and said in a wise tone,

“No old friend, if I was married to you, today, I’d still be the proud wife of the new City Mayor.”

All things grow from the womb of creation.

Especially the vision and value we give to our men.

As women, we have a unique connection to the womb of creation, in the Jewish tradition that is called, “Shekhina.”

Today, much of our world, values people by monetary worth, education and social status.

There is another value that needs respect and attention, a woman’s energetic weaving of the stories of man.

There is a higher intelligence and consciousness, that goes beyond books and linear, logical thinking.

In the history of ancient Sumeria, dedicated high priestesses would stand as a bridge from God to earth.

Their time was given to become a pure connection to Source, sitting under trees, receiving and giving prayers for the world.

Being a holy consort and spending much time with the Gods, they distributed titles, ranks and decree, to form thriving civilizations and systems of people.

We need to grow the role of Sacred women as high priestesses to flourish and bring balance to our world.

Ultimately the story of our world is in continuous creation of the womb and in the creative eyes of our mothers, sisters, wives and grandmothers.

One of the highest roles a woman can have, is purposeful dreaming and seeing the highest potential of sons, brothers, husbands and grandfathers, become realized.

And in that vision, we raise and nurture, with persistent love and strength, until the vision of a mans potential becomes reality.

Women who devote their time to connecting to the Sacred Source of creation, lead men back to their soul.

Breaking down harsh barriers of negativity, we soften the paradigm and allow men to gently protect, provide and shepherd the chaotic, creative force of the Feminine.

Anytime I am in a presence of a good man, I never sit or talk with garbage men.

Titles of man-made value are given by the world, not from above.

The woman who looks through sacred eyes, sees the soul.

In the company of good men, I am sitting and talking to Mayors, Princes and Kings.

Surrender my vision, to the One.

I’m surprised to find myself standing at the crossroads of fully investing myself into a religion of all things.

I had hoped to be living in my new home this December, but a stand still of problems has paused all progress for a few weeks.

It’s been a three year journey, after a Near Death experience in the mountains caused me to slowly begin transforming my life into one of a Jewish tradition.

We were supposed to have waited three more years to build our credit to buy a house.

However, six months ago, we received an opportunity from out of the blue, to buy a home.

A miracle in essence, I suppose.

In these last six months, I have listened to the gentle voice in the mornings, and have removed every idol, photo and statue that identifies the image of another god or belief system.

Even with resistance and deep probing questions, I feel my health and life being extended by the mercy and compassion of this still small voice of the One.

On Monday this week, we were told we would have to start the home buying process again because of a few discrepancies and errors of our lender.

I took the news and felt down over it.

But I know in my soul, that the same small voice that is guiding me daily and providing for my needs, will also guide me to my highest final outcome.

With Hannukah approaching this month of December, I was reminded of the miracle of olive oil being extended to burn for 8 days of miraculous light.

Looking at my future, it is at this moment unknown.

Standing at the ocean shore of opportunity, I remind myself that it’s no use fighting over this one teaspoon of ocean water.

Why would I attach my whole value and identity to this one teaspoon of salt water, when I am surrounded by endless buckets of never ending opportunity?

And so, I surrender.

I surrender my teaspoon, detach from my dream, and give myself to the holy Creator’s hand who holds the ocean of opportunity with infinite love, and I let go.

I wrote a small prayer on a piece of paper and neatly folded it, and placed it under my Menorah.

It seems, I have ran out of fuel for the remainder of this home journey.

If it is the highest best for myself, my family and Adonai, then I co-create with the One this month, or wait for another teaspoon of opportunity to come to me at the best time.

All I will take with me in my new home, if it is Gods will, is my Mezuzah and my Jewish and Kabbalastic items, this is my personal promise.

The rest, has dissolved into a past life of hidden sorcery and illness, that wasn’t serving my personal highest best.

Whether my new home is this Month of December, or three more years from now, it will be a house of Adonai’s light.

Surrendering my vision and my whole being, I already see the miracle of my fuel of life being extended to greater and greater health.

Here is my life, here is my dream of a home, here is my future, in faith and hope, I completely surrender my vision, to the One.


Elana: Becoming a tree.

Why I changed my name to, Elana.
It would take 20 years of inner soul searching to understand the lesson my Music Professor and opera singer, Mr. Kenney taught me about becoming a tree.
That is what my name means in Hebrew, a tree of light. I changed it legally, four months ago.
I was 20 years old, enjoying my music studies, my Professor had me practicing vocal exercises.
He would get annoyed by the lack of depth in my sound.
One day he exclaimed,
“Christine, you have no roots!”
(Christine was the old name)
He would gently tap my shoulder, and because I had no center rooted in earth, I would easily tip over.
He would tell me, “SING LIKE A TREE!”
I had no idea what this crazy refined French teacher was speaking about.
He would tell me to visualize being a tree, with long roots, unmovable.
My homework became to sit under a tree. That assignment would last two decades.
He told me that when I had come to a place of wisdom, I would understand that there is no difference between me and the tree.
And when I had learned the lesson, I would become a living, singing tree.
Little did Professor Kenny know, he was teaching the same lessons that my Peruvian Shaman teachers would teach me a decade ago.
My spiritual journey has lead me to several mystical and healing traditions.
The one that stands out, is being instructed to sit under a tree.
First lesson in becoming a Shaman, sit under a tree.
At first I thought I would ask the tree to teach me a lesson, but that was not the case.
The discipline was to BECOME the tree.
As was to build multiple fires. I would add items of prayer to the fire, asking for healing and wisdom.
The mental exercise was to become the fire, become the prayer, become the answer.
A few months ago, I was sitting in my home and realized the accumulation of “things” I had on my altar.
Buddhas, Krishnas, crystals, sage you name it. I had visited every new age store, bought all the “things” that would physically express my journey into the spiritual world.
One day, after 20 years of sitting under a tree, I came into my home and observed my altar.
In the world of physics, there is no separation of matter. Our cells and atoms are made of stars.
We are vibrating cells of moving light and we are breathing in liver cells from 20 years ago.
I had become enslaved to a monotonous system of ceremony.
My value of how I connect to the Creator had become tied up with Books, statues, rattles, rocks and feathers.
It was in this epiphany, I felt my feet grow roots, my body become tall and strong, my lungs branched out, and my mind started to blossom green leaves of understanding.
The illusion of separation is the story we are telling ourselves. Statues, rocks and feathers are visual reminders of what we are already are.
I realized I didn’t need my altar of stuff anymore.
I had become a living altar.
The crystals, feathers and incense are only a pathway to connect to Source.
I had come to the realization that I am the crystal, I am the feather, I am the incense releasing aroma of burning prayer to Creator, by my thoughts and words.
The Chinese expression for energy, is the term “Chi.” Japanese healers refer to this energy as, “ki.”
It is referred to as vital life force that animates all things through moving light.
In Science, opera lessons and Shaman, Mystic classes, they are all coming to the same point, we are vibrating particles of moving light.
A rigid mind can not grow roots.
It’s when we dissolve into the flowing current of moving waters, we can mold ourselves to adapt to any moment and any person.
Becoming a tree, I am flexible to the wind, bending in dissonant opinions, I will always come back to my center, because my roots have grown into the heart of earth.
I am at the crossroads where I am witnessing the secret.
Life is beginning to become a playground of myth.
One massive theater of drama that I am privileged to be apart of.
Once you realize you are a tree, there is no need to hate others, or fight the world because I am you, becoming me.
You begin to see God in everything.
If you want peace, you become it. If you want love, you become it.
Right or wrong doesn’t really exist.
Reality doesn’t really exist, it’s all a hologram of our collective consciousness projected into moving myth, flowing “chi.”
We instruct the next chapter of our world, by what we wrote yesterday. Are we authoring a good story today?
With my highest branch caressing the source of light, I am brought back to earth, to keep living, from the mundane to the magnificent.
My learning never ends, but this lesson has finally bloomed within my soul.
Maybe after 20 years, I go knock on the door of my old music classroom.
Professor Kenney, I’m two decades late, but I get it.
That is how I came to change my name to, Elana. 🌳

Looking for Islamic Art in America: Changing our story of fear.

I was at an art store in Northern California, looking for tools and supplies to practice  Islamic art. Row after row, I discovered the lack of items to represent the art of Islam and the Middle East.

This has been the third time in two months, where I have gone to find books of Islamic Geometry at bookstores and found none to pursue my studies. At a local and liberal spiritual/art store, I could not find an Oud or any piece of musical instrument that represented the art and spiritual history of the Middle East.

When I asked a few months back, why there isn’t an Oud or piece of Art from the Middle East, the clerk shrugged and told me, “it just isn’t popular and there is no interest.”

I stood in this large art store and became saddened at the fact that we have tools for Japanese, Tibetan and Indian art, but we have completely left out a part of our world, their culture and their traditions.

When I stood at the counter, being told that I would have to order my books and art supplies from Istanbul Turkey, which would take 3 to 4 weeks to arrive, I was frustrated when the clerk asked me if I was Muslim.

No, I am not Muslim and I don’t see the connection to studying art and history and what my religious association has to do with anything.

I live in Liberal California, where we preach peace, love and acceptance. Yet, our duplicitous stance of silent hypocrisy can be seen by the absence of Muslim culture in our education centers, such as bookstores, libraries and art galleries.

The over all climate of the average American is one of fear. If we see a Muslim gentleman cross our path or a woman in a hijab, our reaction is that a bomb, rape and the stealing of our children must be near!

There is a massive deficit of education of Islamic history, that is creating a greater and greater divide. So much so, people are afraid of being attacked on the streets for expressing modesty of their faith of peace.

I sat in my car after my exchange with the clerk and cried at how shallow and dangerous our American way of thinking is heading towards.

We are pointing a finger at a religion and failing to see how discriminating we are behaving towards a group of people. How can we welcome immigrants and refugees, yet have none of their culture in our education systems, then blame them for what is going in our world?

It’s enough to take America by the ear and sit them down in my office, for a scolding.

The mathematics that we count our “popular” money with, comes from the genius minds of Islam. The Golden Era of Islam from 800-1100 AD brought to us algebra, astronomy, architecture and the mathematics we use this very day. We should stop and say thank you, when we encounter an individual of the Muslim faith.

On the other side of the coin, I have been trying to acquire information to visit a mosque for the last few months and it has proven to be a challenge to find a guide to show me their culture and traditions.

I refuse to stand by and see the separation grow wider. If we continue with our apathetic, cool indifference, genocide of ethnic cleansing of our brothers and sisters could be the war on humanity that we did nothing to stop!

All I can do is try and understand and take time to study about Islam. So far, I have signed up for a two week Islamic Art class in London, because there are no classes to be found here in America.

I have found a wonderful person in Jordan, who is like an Imam to me. Who is sending me a Quran to study. I had to ask hundreds of questions to get one person to assist me in learning their culture.

Muslims, although it may a challenge, I hope you open your Mosque doors to the community and share your belief. Not for conversion, but for education and change this climate of fear.

I am one person who will learn anything you are willing to teach me, and be your advocate to change this dangerous American perspective.

I’ve had to order all my books and art supplies from overseas. It should not be this hard.

Art is the heartbeat of our civilization and where our humanity is felt and seen. If we have no Islamic art  on gallery walls, and no sacred music in our music halls, what message are we sending out?

We have work to do. When I was curious about Islamic geometry, I had no intention of traveling to London and the Mosques of Iran and Turkey. Whatever I learn, I will try to teach and shift this consciousness of fear, into one of peaceful understanding.

After visiting a New Age Spiritual store, I realized that not even our spiritual teachers in the West, embrace the holiness that is Islam. Nor do we incorporate it into our daily meditation practices. Have you stood in the midst of Muslims praying? I have two compassionate Muslim men who pray for me, and I can feel their light bring healing to my body and daily world.

How can we say some spiritual and art practices our worthy of our attention, as long as they bring in money, but others don’t? Which brings harm to families and continues the story of hate. We corrupt ourselves by do nothing to change this, but we go stand in rallies holding signs of peace, but our bank accounts do not support their culture and art.

A bridge must be built. We the West must extend ourselves to include another culture that is verging the evil idea of concentration camps.

I don’t see why another Golden Era can’t rise and gift to us, a higher mind of learning and civilization once again. My Muslim brothers and sisters are golden to me, and I will not allow a story of fear to separate me from my family again.







Existential thoughts

Do you every feel the panic of death, suck the air out of your lungs?

It’s like an overwhelming wave of dread that reminds you that you will soon be nothing.

I lay out alone on my deck and look up.

I witness the vast sky, the green trees, the fresh air and fear as I witness creation I ask myself, what if tomorrow I do not get the chance to see the world again?

Is this day my last one? Did I love enough? Did I learn enough? Did I laugh enough? Did I change someones life for the better?

It’s a frantic mental race to want to buy all the air flights to see the world, to buy the largest suitcase and live in every house that’s ever been built.

But the exhaustion of Fibromyalgia keeps me trapped in my wishful dreams, I feel my life force escape into another wasted day.

It hurts to not know the reason for existence. I’ve written the word “why” a hundred times in my empty journal today.

Will I remember the Christmas lights sparkling on the hair of my sister as she opens her gift, when I am no longer here?

I’ve read a million myths, attended too many spiritual classes but I’m rendered frozen at the vastness of the realization that my eyes are open seeing clouds move across the sky.

My consciousness floats across the world, I see war.

Death, stole the chance of others to see the sky I am looking at now.

What for? What is the meaning of it?

I am no longer me, just a ghost of a hologram reflecting life through technicolor movement.

Every day I hope to not be aware of the existence of everything.

To be the deer looking for green grass to eat, mindless of the lion hunting it, desperate to live.

I am a bleeding heart feeling every human memory, I freeze myself to breathe.

I have no children to carry my memory forward.  No more “me” after I am laid in earth. At my age, I only see barren winters without the laughter of children to remind me of the narcissism to continue my name.

What is the right decision?

Exhaling the need to know why.

I want to be ok with everything, to be at peace with every moment, to be ok if I am alive or not.

But I’m desperate to grasp tomorrow, do not leave me behind without finding the answer to ‘why.’

Death do not cheat me!

I haven’t seen the sunset in Jordan or tasted coffee in Istanbul yet.

But now all I can do is float on song notes, begging tomorrows music to not forget me.


I crave contrast.

I live for the difference.

When the ocean wave crashes against hard rock. The dramatic spray of salt that touches my face, I taste life.

The dissonance of notes, that are fighting to belong to the melodic harmony once again.

I want to feel something real.

I live for the twilight, where the sun feuds the night to shine in quarrelsome reverie.

Be the mystery, I drudge through muddy waters to figure out.

Forever a vagabond, I am a gypsy living nowhere. In despair, seeking your secret.

Let me live a thousand years unable to find a lens to capture your peculiar, exotic beauty.

I live for the question. The drama of the unknown, before the answer brings resolve.

Like riding thunderbolts of insanity, chasing normalcy. In the electric pulse, seconds before fire hits earth, before Gods face disappears into dismal skies.

Be nothing like me.

In the contrast, I fall in love.

My new Doctor and healing the Feminine

I had the most phenomenal conversation with my new Physician yesterday.

We will be relocating to the Pollock Pines area this month and I needed to find a Doctor closer to home.

I picked her because I could tell she was an enlightened woman from her medical profile and when I met her she did not disappoint me.

She asked me about my life. I told her about my spiritual journey of becoming a Reiki Master, Feng Shui consultant, photography, Sacred geometry and my vast studies of many belief systems.

She was quiet for a few moments as she scrolled through my Instagram photos and looked through my blogs on my website.

She smiled at me and said in a warm voice,

“Miss Elana, you have one of the most fascinating minds I’ve ever encountered. You’re highly intelligent and spiritual. I think you are a genius, but you have some work to do.”

I was blushing with such generous words from my new physician. If she only knew I tripped over my own feet this morning lol!

She said that I have lived the journey she is always trying to teach to her patients.

After some conversation she advised me to not have the weight loss surgery. I am too sensitive to the problems that could arise and it will bring down the quality of my life.

She looked into my eyes and told me that I MUST finish my healing journey on my own, because I’ve come to far to have a crutch at this point. She wants me to be the role model to help her other patients out.

She told me I have meditated enough, I have drawn enough sacred geometry. If I explore the invisible worlds too much, I will not be strongly rooted to the physical realm.

She opened her cell phone and showed me a Durga yantra and the Rod of Asclepius, a staff that has two snakes intertwining.

She expressed that my feminine and masculine energies are not balanced.

She is of a Hindu background and put her hand on my second chakra, and told me I must now do my final healing work, heal my sexuality.

It’s time to let go of the oppression of patriarchy. I have lived in a masculine dominated world that has suppressed my sexuality. And that a woman’s most sacred connection to God, is through her womb.

I was in tears at the end our conversation. Almost in shock that this Master Guru was also my new Physician.

I must now physically become all that I meditate and create through art.

At some point “being” is not enough, we must also “do.”

She welcomed me as one of the few matriarchs of a new world. All she prescribed me, was to enjoy pleasure through sacred intimacy and more orgasms to connect to the universe and help heal our world.

I am still a bit stunned by her words. She didn’t want to leave me, and told me she would almost prefer to have coffee and explore my mind, than to be her patient.

She asked me what I will do tonight, and I told her I will give my self a decadent bath in rose petals and rose oils.

She bowed to me as she left the office and told me, “Master, finish your work.”

It felt like a life time achievement of great validation from such a brilliant woman.

I walk into the a new horizon of self and will do as she instructs and heal the wounded feminine within me and let go of the suppression and pain of patriarchy and own my power of pleasure and embrace the sacred rite of the womb.

Well folks, you’re looking at a matriarch and I am looking forward to finishing my healing journey.

Feeling refreshed and revitalized after immersing my aura and being with the sweet vibration of roses.

Here is to healing the feminine and balancing the world, by loving myself and healing the universe within me first.

Divine Feminine and Divine masculine, in harmonious balance, that is the best medicine.