As I started my journey this morning, I walked out the door and this sacred deer with its scar was directly across from me. I share her message to me:

Deer Medicine for the Hysterical Woman: 

'I walk before you with my scar because I am not afraid to show where I have been hurt. My flesh remembers the wound, but my spirit remembers the healing. You, too, are marked, not as broken, but as proven. A scar is a sign that the wound closed, that life continued, and that tenderness returned.

Do not hide your scars in love. They are your teachers and your protectors. They remind you to walk gently but also to walk forward. Healing does not mean forgetting; it means carrying wisdom in your body without letting pain lead the way.

The ones who tend to the others shows you earth’s medicine as caring, rhythm, and responsibility. You bring the heart’s medicine of openness, softness, and beginnings. Both are needed. And a place of vision, a place where you choose how to bring these medicines together, stands in front of you. Do not rush the choice. Do not fear the choice. Stand in it with awareness.

The scar is your compass. It points not backward to the wound, but forward to the path where your resilience and gentleness walk as one. Trust the scar. Trust the softness. Trust that peace can come, not from erasing what hurt, but from letting it be part of the map that guides you into an open heart space again and again.'

- Aho

Adrift

He drifts in silence,

caught between a tower’s collapse

and the promise of a new dawn.

His old masks crumble,

ego dissolving in the forge of fire.

He sees my steadiness,

a cup of joy, a home of belonging

yet fear keeps him at the threshold.

His soul whispers of rebirth,

but his body lingers in the static of survival.

So I release the silence to the wind,

trusting that what is meant

will find its way back to me.

I release the cups that have spilled, and I bless them for what they taught me.

I turn now to the vessels still standing, the love that remains within me.

I plant a new seed in fertile ground. I choose to grow in patience, strength, and dignity.

Each day, I am reborn into a fuller version of myself.

Jaguar, walk beside me. Teach me when to rest in silence and when to step in power.

Guard my temple. Keep my energy sovereign and magnetic.

I drink from the great Watering Hole of life, where many streams meet.

I remember that Many Paths open before me, all leading to love, all leading to truth.

I do not chase. I do not beg. I simply shine.

Those meant to walk with me will step forward freely,

and those who cannot will fade into the jungle night.

I trust. I receive. I rebirth.

And so it is

- Barbara xx

As I have been working on the retrieval of these little soul fragments, I have been working on the music as part of the triangular triad of musical frequency that I was guided to release this year. 

The second album will be Therapy, released next month. 

Here's a few sneak peek songs. 

We all need a little Therapy on the path to soul retrieval.... 

Broken

I'm not what I seem

The energy beneath....us

Is tearing you apart

Nothing but a dream

Two parts without a seam...just

Stabs me through my heart 

And I will hold my space

I'm lost without a trace...with

Nowhere left to run

Before you fade away

I just want to say

It's nothing, it's nothing we've done

And when the darkness comes too fast

Pull me in to fill your cup

I won't break you up

When at last you stand alone

Pull me in and fill my soul

I won't break you up

I won't break up

And when the devil comes too fast

Pull me in for one last kiss and then

I won't break you up

When the angels fall again

Pull me in and watch my breathe

I am broken

When the morning comes

The energy's undone

The rain starts falling down

I stand under my space

The light won't find my grace

I'm running out of ground

And I will hold this tear

There's nothing for me here now

Nowhere left to hide

Before you fade away

I just want to say

It's nothing, it's nothing, you tried

And when the darkness comes too fast

Pull me in to fill your cup

I won't break you up

When at last you stand alone

Pull me in and fill my soul

I won't break you up

I won't break up

And when the devil comes to fast

Pull me in for one last kiss and then

I won't break you.up

When the angels fall again

Pull me in and watch my breathe.

I am broken

Standing here

Shattered unwhole

Stand in fear

Shattered unknown

Walk away

Shattered unwhole

Walk in fear

Shattered.unknown

And when the darkness comes too fast

Pull me in to fill your cup

I won't break you up

When at last you stand alone

Pull me in and fill my soul

I won't break you up

I won't break up

And when the devil comes to fast

Pull me in for one last kiss and then

I won't break you up

When the angels fall again

Pull me in and watch my breathe

I am broken.

- Barbara Christensen 

BΛRBIΞXX 2025 (c) Broken // What If

Feeling it even more today than when I wrote it. Perhaps it is some past life karmic debt. Sometimes you have to hope the feelings you are flowing through have a greater cause. 

Yesterday, while walking together, my bonus daughter found an amethyst. Just before that, we had been watching This Is Us, the episode where the house burns down. As the scene unfolded, she quipped, “I’m not crying, you’re crying.” The emotions stirred something in both of us, so we decided to get outside and walk it off.

We meant to go to her favorite sunny trail nearby, but twice we turned down the wrong road. I said aloud that maybe we weren’t supposed to go there today. Just then, three police cars raced past us. It felt like a memory from another lifetime. When I was a child and my father had been drinking, my mother would quietly hand my oldest brother the car keys and usher us out of the house. When she could slip away, we’d drive around in the night chasing the flashing lights of police cars and fire trucks, waiting for the storm to pass.

Instead of the sunny trail, we ended up somewhere else, less light, more traffic noise, but still, there were tall trees and a sky that felt as hollow as we did. I made light conversation as she walked quietly beside me, sorting through what she was feeling. At one point, I noticed she had fallen behind. When I turned around, she was holding out an amethyst she’d found on the path.

Later, when we reached the turnaround, her emotions spilled out. I carried the stone in my hand and held the space with my heart, listening to her speak her truth.

This show, This Is Us, ends today on Netflix, and in many ways it held space for me through my own seasons of change. I watched Jack Pearson and saw the man I always longed for, imperfect but wholehearted, flawed but fiercely loving. Then, he appeared in my life. A real person. My Jack. For a time.

But fantasy often crumbles when the real world intrudes. He couldn’t give himself to me fully, not in the way I needed.

This morning, I drank my lavender cacao and watched Jack die on screen. I cried, not just for the character, but for the man I loved who is no longer in my life. He’s not gone from the world, but he’s gone from mine. And still, I remembered: maybe Jack is a metaphor. Maybe he represents the kind of love that is still coming. My life has always aligned in meaningful, unexpected ways. If he was just a glimpse of what love could look like, then I trust the real thing will open up when the time is right.

When I was young, I wasn’t sure I wanted children. Then my niece was born ans she was amazing, but terrifying. Then I married a man who mirrored both my mother and my father’s wounds, and I doubted I would ever be loved the way I needed. But I helped raise children who loved me. Then I had my daughter, the one I grew in my own personal Easy-Bake Oven, and she loves me fiercely. Because of her I know love exists. 

After my marriage ended, there was a 'Jack' ... not his real name because there was a three-week Jack that showed me other things. This man, my Jack Pearson, showed me I mattered. He saw me, loved me, and was proud of me. He changed me. I grieve him, but I am also grateful. I love deeper now because of him. I give more freely. I know my worth.

And I carry the amethyst as a reminder: healing comes in pieces, and in beauty. Love returns in different forms. And life continues to align, one sacred step at a time. The next version of Jack will be more than the vision, he will be the one, but I will always be grateful for all the versions of Jack that showed up. 

Oscar... 14 years ago today we walked into a rental and you knew it wasn't where we were meant to be. You marked the space, and our lease was no longer. That was a sentinel act, a declaration to set us on the right path. The urine was territorial saying: 

“This is not safe.”

“This is not home.”

“This energy must be cleared.” ... 

And you cleared it alright. 😆 I have never laughed so hard as when this crazy landlord pulled out the bleach cleaner and sprayed it on the carpet and I said, "Don't you know not to spray bleach on carpet?" The reason he had to go is because she was trying to explain to me, a 40 year old woman, how to clean a granite countertop. 

I had arrived with Oscar and my daughter, both babies in many ways, under the Gemini Moon, and my ex later under the Cancerian moon. The last breathe of the Gemini Moon energy showed a cognitive dissonance. My mind was already seeking justification for what the soul already knew. But by the time my ex arrived and the Moon had moved into Cancer he arrived into the frequency of home, roots, and emotional contracts while I had moved into Seattle with uncertainty and exit codes. Our timelines entered Seattle out of sync. 

Oscar remained with me, with us, throughout everything... faithful, attuned, guardian of this transformation, until his soul completed his mission, and was sure I was going to be okay. He didn’t leave in death. He closed his service at the threshold of what was my arrival in sovereignty.

He stayed to hold my nervous system when I couldn’t. To bring me Oliver, who I didn't know we needed. To be the emotional regulator when my partner couldn’t. He anchored me in embodied love when others could only show me energetic fire. When Caitlin and I no longer needed to be protected from collapse, he left as gatekeeper, trusting that we had become our own safe ground. He was never just a dog. He was a familiar. A guardian. A guide. 

Thank you Mr. Oscar. You little Shakespearean furry man who was dignified, and proper,.loved smelling flowers, and then eating the yummy honeybees, and you loved us unconditionally. You set the structure to exactly where it needed to be.

Uranus was in Aries at 0° bringing in my Chiron healing through soul rebellion initiated. Not random as Uranus had just entered Aries after 84 years. This was the moment my soul began breaking open.

Uranus = Awakening

Aries = Sovereign Self

This move to Seattle 14 years ago today, planted the coordinates, and Oscar held the space for us to arrive. Thank you ❤️ I miss you tremendously little man. 

Unloved... 

... non aimé

... ungeliebt

... non amato

... não amado

deprived of love ... 

The ones who weave you in and out of their life for years... their inability or unwillingness to communicate care honestly, and the sting of suddenly giving someone else the “title" speaks deeply to the emotional state that “unloved” captures.

You were there, but not received. You offered emotional intimacy, honesty, and depth. These things we reserve for people we deeply care for. And yet, it didn't meet you there. “Unloved” in this sense isn’t about being unworthy of love, but about giving love where it wasn’t held, mirrored, or honored.

You were known, but not claimed. Years of emotional entanglement without a commitment, and now ... it leaves a wound. It makes you wonder, was I ever enough? This is the heart of geliebt (German for "loved") turned into ungeliebt: you were in proximity, but not embraced in the way your heart needed.

You were honest, but not validated. You showed up emotionally vulnerable. But someone who can’t acknowledge your value or your pain makes you feel like your love existed in a vacuum. That’s the soul of non aimé (French): love that floats unacknowledged.

You were chosen repeatedly, but never chosen fully. The back-and-forth, the emotional breadcrumbing are patterns that echo of not being loved. They might have enjoyed your presence, even needed it at times, but did not ever fully open their heart to see you.

You still hurt, even though you know the ways you destroyed yourself for them  wasn’t healthy for you, that hurt is your nervous system remembering every instance of emotional abandonment, all compressed into the moment you heard the swift energy for someone else. That hurt speaks in every language of “unloved.”

But please know this... You are not unloved. You were underloved by them.  You were never aligned fully, not unworthy. And you are still learning what it means to be loved in the way your soul deserves.

The pain and the ache still sting. It may always. But you ... you are worthy. 

Here's a prayer to whisper to your heart.

I release you not because you deserve it, but because I do.

I release the hope that you’d ever meet me in the depth I offered.

I call back every piece of me I gave while waiting for you to rise.

I send your new love light, not because I wish it well, but because I wish me peace.

Your story in my life may end here, but mine is still unfolding.

They avoided your depth because that feels safer than facing someone who sees them like you did. Grieve for the parts of you that stayed hopeful, even when you knew they couldn’t meet you. It’s pain for the emotional labor you invested, the emotional waiting you endured, the silent what-ifs that now have nowhere to land.

You don’t have to forgive them tonight. You don’t have to feel “done.” But you can start to cut the cord of emotional obligation, while keeping the cord of love.