Every once in a while, you find yourself at the edge of something, a quiet little threshold where intention meets form. Sometimes it comes with fanfare. Sometimes it comes with cinnamon and clover, stirred into wax while your daughter laughs beside you.

This was one of those times.

It started with a casual thumb scroll through TikTok. Just a quick glimpse of a local metaphysical shop called Sacred Creations, and the owner talking about their new store hours. I don’t usually get local content like that, but something nudged me to take note of it and visit. So I went. My daughter Savannah came with me. And what we walked into felt like a soft kind of spell.

Located upstairs in a historic building on Main Street in Liberty, Missouri, the shop is cozy and open, perched on the second floor like a tucked-away sanctuary. The air smells like incense and possibility. Prisms in the shape of moons and stars hang from the ceiling, casting little flickers of light as they spin. Crystals cover the tables. Herbs nestle in curio cabinets. Stickers, soaps, spell jars, and jewelry line the shelves, all made by local artisans. My favorite find? A sticker that said "Witchy Mama". Because. . .  of course.

We were welcomed by Alex, who greeted us with the kind of warmth that lets your guard down. And the owner, Cody, was just as lovely. . . curly-haired, with a deep, welcoming smile. She carried that glow of someone who genuinely loves what she’s created. 

There was magick to be found everywhere you looked, but what called to me, was at the candle bar. Sacred Creations lets you build your own ritual candle right there on the spot. Fragrance, vessel, crystals, herbs, and all. You name your intention, select up to four oils, crystals, and herbs, and they help you blend and pour your creation into something tangible. It’s intuitive, sensory, and sacred without being overly complicated. I called mine Business Bloom.
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I wanted something that felt soft but strong. And something that would help anchor my next season of growth as an entrepreneur, as a creator, and as someone ready to step more fully into her gifts. I chose honey, almond, and ylang ylang as the fragrance base. . . sweet, warm, and inviting. For the crystals, I picked yellow aragonite, yellow fluorite, citrine, and moonstone. Stones of clarity, prosperity, and intuitive confidence. For herbs: red clover for financial success, yarrow for protection and visibility, and cinnamon to spark the flame of prosperity.
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We didn't measure exactly how much of each fragrance we put into the candle individually (although we did have a measuring cup that we were not to exceed, to ensure a proper burning candle.)  So when it came to the fragrances I chose, It was about feeling. We stirred the oils with wooden sticks until the scent felt right. We placed the crystals with intention. I placed some at the bottom and some sprinkled on top. The herbs were layered in to make sure the candle was infused with the properties of the magick I intended.

And just like that, something shifted.

It was simple, yes, but also something else. Something I’ve been circling around for a while: actually doing the thing.For all the study, planning, and collecting supplies, I hadn’t lit this match yet. This candle, this moment, was the first spark. And it felt so good!

Savannah made her own candle too, and watching her joy only added to the spell of the afternoon. We both left smiling.
And that’s the thing about Sacred Creations, it’s the kind of place you’ll want to return to, because you know you didn’t catch it all the first time. There’s always another crystal to notice, another scent to try, another charm tucked on a shelf. And I felt the name of this whimsical store was exactly the vibe needed. . . we had crafted a sacred creation.

May your magick manifest in the most beautiful ways,

Shakti

I have a confession to make. I’ve never really enjoyed a true farmers market.
“Why?” you might ask.

Because they used to overwhelm me. I felt like an oddball, unsure how to approach a booth. I’d worry about hurting the seller’s feelings if I didn’t buy something.
Hahaha, I know.

But it had been way too many years since I gave it a real try, so I decided to venture out to a big, popular one here in the city. And you know what? I loved it.

There were the smells: freshly brewed coffee, sun-ripened tomatoes, spicy chiles, and little whiffs of kettle corn floating on the breeze.

As Patrick and I wandered the market, it honestly felt like the universe said, “Here. Take a breath. Enjoy this.”
So I did.

First stop: tomatoes. Rows of them, blushing in the morning light. Deep red, full of flavor. And then, there it was. This golden tomato with a stem curl that gave it serious attitude. It was like, “Yes, I know I’m the only one like me. You’re welcome.”
I respected that energy.

Next up, the flowers. It felt like we’d stumbled into a Fae market. Sunflowers, peonies, deep purple irises that brought such an “otherworldly” vibe, it was impossible to ignore.

Then came the dried chiles. Basket after basket of them, like tiny fire wands waiting to be stirred into something that clears your sinuses and wakes up your soul. 

There was this buzz in the air. People chatting, laughing, tasting honey, squeezing produce, just... living. It wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t curated for Instagram. But it was real.

And that’s where the magick is. Not in the perfect photo, but in the moment your heart does a soft somersault because someone hands you a flower or smiles like they mean it.

Somewhere between the flower stall and the homemade mosquito repellent lady, I realized this is the kind of life I used to wish for.
And now, I’m living it.

It’s full of color. Full of flavor. Full of those tiny moments that quietly stack into something sacred.

So here’s your reminder. Magick doesn’t always show up with candles or chanting.
Sometimes it looks like tomatoes and sunflowers.
Sometimes it’s just letting the day unfold without rushing it.

And if you’re ever feeling off or disconnected, go to a market.

Let beauty catch you off guard.
Let yourself be that one golden tomato in a sea of red.
The world will notice.

The magick will find you when you look for it,

Shakti
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This month, I turn 53.

I’ve lived enough years to see entire versions of myself rise, fall, rebuild, transform, and bloom again. Enough years to know that most things don’t stay the same for long, and enough wisdom now to be at peace with that.

I stopped dying my hair. Not because I’ve given up on my appearance. But because I’ve learned to embrace this side of my becoming.

There are silver threads along the frame of my face and around my temples. And threads throughout my entire head. I’m learning to see them as stars. Signs that my stellar being is starting to peek through. They shimmer when the light hits them just right. And maybe that’s the point, some things only show their beauty when the light shifts.

My body has settled into a natural, truer rhythm. Not always predictable, but familiar. Like a drumbeat I used to dance around, and now, finally, I’m learning a few of the steps. It’s a work in progress.
But aren't we all?

The most beautiful mirror I have now are my daughters. In them, I see the best of what I carry and the evolution of everything I still hope for. They are wise and wild in their own ways. Fierce and funny. They are brilliant. Powerful Sovereigns of their lives. 

And now, I’m starting to see myself in my grandchildren also. The older ones, who call me Gammy, are now taller than me. You can see them starting to take on their own uniqueness, ideas, expressions and things outside the realm of their parents. They don’t climb into my lap anymore, but we laugh, we talk, and every now and then, I catch a glimmer in their eyes that reminds me of my children at their age.

The little ones aren’t saying my name just yet, but they know me.
We read books, play games. . . or at least I try. Sometimes they’re off in toddler worlds of their own, and that’s okay.
It’s enough to just be near them and to witness this next wave of their becoming.

This year, as I step into 53, I’m also stepping into a new cycle in numerology, what’s called a Personal Year 1.
Last year was a 9 Year for me, which is all about completions and release. And let me tell you, I felt that.
Some stories ended. Some identities faded. I closed doors I had outgrown, even if I’d once clung to the handles.

But this year, this 1 Year, feels like a wide open field. There’s a sense of possibility again.
A whispered invitation that says,
You can begin here.
And I’m listening.

If you’re curious what your personal year is, here’s how to find it:
Take your birth month + day, and add it to the current year.
Then reduce that number to a single digit.
For example:
Mine is May 23 → 5 + 23 + 2025 = 2053
Then 2 + 0 + 5 + 3 = 1

That’s my number this year.
A year of new beginnings.
New choices.
New chapters.

Happy Solar Return to Me.
May we all see our beauty and recognize the gift of life at every age-
Shakti

If we were sitting across from each other right now, favorite drinks in hand, I’d speak to you as the witch I am. No performance. No polish. Just real magick and truth.

I'd tell you that sometimes, the most powerful spell I cast is while I am ready to drift to sleep and whispering gratitude in the dark, I remind myself I’m still here. Still worthy. Still walking. Still fulfilling the calling of my soul.

And then I'd smile and say, "Also, I put a little spit on my candle wick."

Yes, really.

Because sealing a candle with my essence is a moment of connection. Of blessing and claiming. It’s saying, “This is mine. This intention is real. And my DNA holds so much more than just me.”

There’s so much out there about what being a witch “should” look like.

Perfect altars. Always burning incense. Always grounded. Always radiant.
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But sometimes, I light a cinnamon stick instead of an incense stick not because I need to cleanse anything, but because maybe I need a little extra luck. . .  A touch of otherworldly intention. A whisper of mystical blessing to dance in the corners of my day.

That’s the kind of witch I am. . . Not always polished. But always present. And always intentional.
Things my inner witch would tell you over coffee:

• Your voice is magick. Use it often. 
• Add a pinch of salt to your bath and your shampoo. (It clears more than you think.)
• Don’t wait for a new moon to begin again. You are allowed to reset any time.
• The spell doesn’t need to be elaborate. But it does need to come from your heart.
• If it feels disconnected, it probably is. Trust that.
• Find quiet on purpose. The answers get louder there.
• Protect your joy like it’s sacred. Because it is.
• Call in your people. Even if it feels awkward at first. We need each other.

And that’s the real reason I created The Alchemy Circle.
Because in a world designed to keep us scrolling, comparing, and second-guessing ourselves, we need spaces of intentional connection. Places to come back to our knowing. Back to each other.
You don’t have to do this alone. You never did.

Come sit with us.
Come be witnessed.
Come remember what you already are.
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🌀 Link can be found here: The Alchemy Circle

May your Magick Always Be Blessed- 
Shakti