Finding My Way Back to Magic

How I returned to my Records and myself after everything fell apart

"Would you like us to sit with you as you go into the Records?"

The question landed softly, but I felt it everywhere.

My eyes welled with tears as I gently nodded my head. Yes.

It had taken me so long to be able to receive this — to let myself be witnessed, to let love in without resistance, to allow myself to be held instead of holding it all on my own.

But in that moment, on a Zoom call with two of my dearest friends, I let the walls come down.

They weren’t offering advice. They weren’t trying to fix anything. They were just there, steady and open, asking if I wanted to feel held my first time going back into the Records.

And I did. More than I could even put into words.

When Everything Fell Apart

When my marriage ended at the end of last year, I didn’t just lose a relationship. I lost the version of myself who existed inside of it.

For 15 years, my life had been shaped around something that no longer existed. And when it was gone, I felt like I had been unspooled. Like the thread that ran throughout every routine and identity I had been holding suddenly came loose. From the way I made my morning matcha to the way I saw myself in the mirror, everything familiar shifted.

Even the things that once made me feel deeply connected — my rituals, my Records, my sense of something greater — didn’t feel like mine anymore. Not because they weren’t there, but because the version of me who had once reached for them felt impossibly far away.

Because that’s what grief can do.
It shifts the ground underneath you.
It makes everything feel unfamiliar.
It becomes hard to know what to hold on to.

It’s not that the magic disappears.
It’s just that, for a while, you stop knowing how to look for it.

The Absence of Magic

For months, I moved through my days without reaching for the things that once made me feel held.

I didn’t open my Akashic Records.
I didn’t journal with my guides.
I didn’t look for the quiet signs and synchronicities that used to feel like winks from the Universe.

And I told myself it didn’t matter. That I didn’t need to feel connected right now. That maybe this was just part of the process — maybe the version of me who found magic in the mundane belonged to another life, one that no longer fit.

So I kept going. I got through each day. And I waited for the part where I would feel like myself again.

But the longer I waited, the more I realized — I wasn’t going to find my way back to magic.

I had to choose to return to it.

Sitting there on Zoom, with my fur baby Chloe at my feet, held by friendship, I realized how much I had missed it.

Not just the practice, but the part of me who used to meet herself inside of it.

So I opened them.

Not with a list of questions. Not looking for certainty. Just to be inside of them again. Just to remember what it felt like to sit in that space.

And the moment I did, I felt it.

Not a grand realization. Not an overwhelming rush of clarity. Just a quiet knowing that had never left me, even when I had left it.

My guides were still there.
The presence I had missed was still there.
The connection I thought I had lost was still there.

I had just been too deep inside my own pain to feel it.

And in that moment, surrounded by love, I realized the magic hadn’t left me. I had just stopped feeling connected to it.

Finding My Way Back

From that moment on, something shifted.

Slowly, quietly, over the course of many weeks, I started paying attention again.

Not forcing.
Not trying.
Just noticing.

After months of disconnection, I began letting myself re-enter the spaces I had once loved.

I didn’t need to create magic. I just needed to remember how to let it in.

Some days, that looked like:

• Opening my Records, even if just to sit in their presence.

• Taking a deep breath before my first sip of matcha, feeling my body exhale.

• Letting my guides speak — not in words, but in the way a song played at the right time, in the way the sun moved across the floor, in the way my body knew I was finding my way back.

I had spent months and months waiting for the moment I would feel like myself again.

But I realized, the way back wasn’t about getting back to who I was.

It was about allowing myself to be exactly where I was, and creating space to see how this version of me wanted to experience magic.

How I Continue the Daily Practice of Noticing

Presence isn’t something I force. It’s something I return to, over and over again, in ways that feel natural, nourishing, and real.

Some days, that looks like…

• Letting the morning unfold without rushing to “start” the day. Not checking my phone first thing. Sitting with my tea before anything else. Giving myself a moment to just exist before I do.

• Opening the window, no matter the weather. Feeling the air shift. Letting the outside in. Noticing the way the world smells, sounds, and moves around me.

• Using my senses to anchor into the moment. Feeling the weight of the knife as I chop vegetables. The warmth of a mug in my hands. The scent of something familiar — cinnamon, vanilla, cardamom in the air.

• Not saving things for later. The expensive candle, the fancy tea, the softest pajamas. Letting myself experience beauty now, instead of waiting for some undefined “special occasion.”

• Taking a shower in the dark. No distractions, no harsh lighting — just warm water and silence. A moment to let my thoughts settle, to release the day, to notice what’s coming up.

• Letting something be unfinished. The book I don’t need to finish, the conversation that doesn’t need a resolution, the task that can wait until I’m ready.

• Paying attention to what makes me feel held. A lit candle. Burning incense. A warm beverage in my hand. A cuddle session with my dog. Dim lighting. My favorite sweatshirt. Kind eyes.

None of these things require me to slow down, they just invite me to.

And when I accept the invitation, I remember that magic isn’t something I have to search for. It’s already here.

If You’re in a Season of Disconnect, Here’s What I Want You to Know:

The magic never leaves, you just stop being able to see it. And that’s okay.

You don’t have to “fix” anything to return to it. There is no perfect moment to start paying attention again.

Your guides are always there, even when you can’t feel them. The Records, the Universe, whatever you believe in — it doesn’t abandon you in your hardest moments. It waits patiently for you to remember.

So if you’re feeling lost, if you’re waiting for the part where you feel like yourself again, you don’t have to wait.

Start where you are.
Look for one small flicker of magic.
Let it be enough.

Because this moment, the one you’re in right now, is already holding more than you think.

You just have to notice.

If you’d like to go deeper, here are a few ways I can support you:

꩜ Take the How to Read the Akashic Records course

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• This is the perfect place to start before booking a 1:1 reading. Join 150+ students in learning to read your own Records.

꩜ Book a 1:1 Akashic Reading

A personalized, soul-level session to receive direct guidance, clarity, and support. Ideal for anyone who’s feeling intuitively blocked, craving clarity, or navigating the in-between. Schedule your reading →

• Read what the community has to say about their experience working with me here.

꩜ Apply for Alignment Mentorship

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