If you’ve ever asked your ancestors for a sign and then spent the next three days explaining it away, this one’s for you.

Typewriters and other vintage technology have been experiencing a bit of a renaissance. I remember watching YouTube videos where people were waxing poetic about daily journaling or working on their novels using their old school typewriters. It felt especially present during the COVID-19 pandemic. At that time, I didn’t have the money, time, or energy to restore or purchase a typewriter. Still, I vowed that one day I would have one.

Six years later, I stumbled on a case on the side of the road. Taped to it was a piece of notebook paper that said “Free Typewriter - No Ink.” I stood there for a second doing the math on all the things that had to happen for this moment to line up. I was only walking around this part of town because I was heading to an event in the city. I’d decided an hour before to drive part way and take public transit the rest of the distance, to save money on expensive event parking. I parked a few blocks from the bus line and just happened to land a few feet from that typewriter. It was absolutely a sign.

I know because I’d asked for one. A few days before, I’d asked my ancestors for guidance. I ask them about the next steps in life generally, but also for business specifically. As a small business owner, there are so many decisions to make, and consulting my people on questions of vision and purpose is part of my process. So to ask that question and then be presented with a functioning, although not pristine, typewriter, years after I first made the desire known? That’s not a coincidence.

This isn’t for people who think signs have to be dramatic to count. We’re not experiencing the burning bush, a voice from the sky, or something completely undeniable or inexplicable. If that’s what you’re waiting for, you’ll miss most of what’s actually being sent to you. This is for people who are willing to let a free typewriter on the side of the road mean something.

I carried the machine to my car and went about my business. In the days that followed, I spent real time cleaning the machine and its case. I tried to track down the model number to pin the year it was made, tried to piece together its story from the condition it was in. I decided it was clearly well cared for once, maybe even stored with intention. But there’s only so much you can do against the effects of time, on a typewriter - or on anything else for that matter.

I started thinking about everything I could do with it once it was restored. Morning pages. Zines. Typing up my chapbook for a small batch run. Letters to people I love. I even thought about starting a snail mail club. My mind kept moving between personal use and business use, and I’ve stopped trying to separate the two. For a lot of us, that venn diagram is a complete circle.

I don’t think the full message of the typewriter has revealed itself yet. That’s usually how it goes with spirit. The instructions unfold over time, and the message is almost always some version of ‘trust the process’. So for now, since I’ve cleaned the machine, physically and spiritually, I’ve started using it for morning pages. I’ll let that routine tell me what’s next.

If you’ve been asking for guidance and brushing past the answer because it didn’t look the way you expected, start here: pick one thing from this past week that you called a coincidence. Just one. Write it down before you talk yourself out of it. That’s it.

If this resonates, subscribe to the newsletter. I write biweekly about mindful living, spirituality, and creativity, and I’d rather you get the next one directly than hope you catch it later. If someone in your life needs to hear this too, send it their way.

Until next time,

Jae

Sweetbay Healing Collective

Photo by Puscas Adryan on Unsplash

There’s something my ancestors do that I’ve come to rely on. If there’s a dream they felt had really important content for me, and they know I didn’t retain it as I’m waking up, they send music. Immediately a song starts playing in my head, and it’s always something random. It’s often something I’ve heard at least once (because I wouldn’t be able to conjure up a song I’ve never heard before). But it’s not a song I’ve heard recently on the radio. It’s like they’re digging into the archives.

The Gambler by Kenny Rogers

A couple years ago I was having a really hard time. I was getting through my internship, and it had been a long, difficult process. I was struggle generally with workplace politics and feeling pretty worn down in the toxic environment. During that time, I had a dream. I remember waking up feeling emotionally heavy, like I had been given a tough lesson, but I couldn’t remember what it was.

And then immediately I heard it. ‘You got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away, know when to run.’ I was flabbergasted, because no shade to Kenny Rogers, but that’s not my typical taste in music. However, it being so out of the ordinary for me was helpful. I knew it was my spirit team. It was very clear to me that the only place this applied was work. The Gambler was their way of saying: it’s okay to let this job go. It’s okay to leave.

I followed that advice, and it was one of the best decisions I’ve made. Following my intuition is rarely something I regret.

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Green Garden by Laura Mvula

So now this is one of my favorite songs, but I barely remembered it when the ancestors first sent it to me. They offered it during one of my toughest moments years ago. I wasn’t recalling my dreams much at the time, so again this stood out. I remember being so frustrated that I wasn’t getting messages like I used to, because I really felt like I needed them then. Again when I reached for the message and it faded away, they replaced it with Green Garden. ‘Take me outside, sit in the green garden. Nobody out there, but’s okay now. Bathe in the sunlight, don’t mind if rain falls.’

The message here was that I needed to focus on slowing down, upping my self care, and reconnecting with nature. All things that were incredibly difficult for me to do back then. Even when I had all the time and space to relax, I struggled. I had to always be working — that’s just how I was wired. After the dream, the song became an earworm. A gentle, daily reminder to take care of myself.

Welcome to the Black Parade by My Chemical Romance

My dream practice has evolved over the years and I’ll ask my ancestors to help me with specific issues. I did just that recently and the ancestors delivered.

I’ve been questioning what I’m doing here with this substack, with Sacred Ordinary. The way this substack started feels very different from where it is today. It’s been three years and I’m not the same person I was three years ago. I was thinking about what this space could be and what it needs to be and became so overwhelmed with the possibilities. So I asked my spirit team for support.

And they sent me a dream that left me feeling resolute - but I couldn’t remember it! But we’ve got a system going now. I fell into a second sleep (which is actually unusual for me). And they sent me another dream. This time, I was with a loved one and we were relaxed and enjoying each other’s company. We then, with millennial cringe fervor, broke into song. We sang Welcome to the Black Parade from the top, off beat, off key, without a care in the world. When I woke up, I was able to pull apart what that dream was telling me. And it was layered.

What I heard was this: dreamwork has a real place in my work, but it’s job is to support the main goal which is to help people connect with themselves, their ancestors, lineages and their loved ones in spirit. Bonus if I do it in a way that centers joy, togetherness, and belonging.

And I’m so glad they gave me not only the song, but put me back into a dream where I got to feel what it’s like to belong. To be with someone. To share that energy of joy and happiness - even as we’re talking about something as serious and somber as death and dying and grief and loss.

That’s what I love about receiving songs in that liminal space between sleep and waking. These moments don’t only carry a message. They weave the power of music into the message so it lands in the spirit deeper.

Have you received songs in your dreams or in those moments on the threshold between sleeping and waking?

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Photo by Jo Brady on Unsplash

Where I am now is not where I have always been with plants. I really didn’t have plants growing up. I think there was one period of time where we had a single house plant in my childhood. This is an illustrative example of my relationship with nature more broadly. I didn’t care about anything going on outside, unless it was the beach (my first love). Taking care of a pothos plant changed my relationship to nature and told me so much about how I navigate change and loss.

How the Pothos Found Me

My relationship with nature really changed in 2020. It was spring 2020, the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, and we were all quarantined in our homes. Folks were going out and either starting plant collections or growing their plant collections. All in the name of fighting the loneliness and monotony that came with sheltering in place.

At the same time, I stumbled upon Ron Finley’s Masterclass. He focused on food gardening which seemed so far from anything I could do and he made it feel very approachable. My partner and I got on the waitlist for a garden plot in our apartment complex, but I figured I’d get started with houseplants in the meantime.

Because our unit didn’t have much sunlight coming in, I knew we needed something that could handle low light. I wanted something that would thrive in spite of me. So one weekend we went and picked up a few plants, including a pothos. The pothos did, in fact, survive in spite of me. As a new plant parent, it was encouraging, like the pothos was resilient enough to wait for me to get my shit together. And I did.

What the Pothos Taught Me About Attachment

Taking care of the pothos became a practice in active nurturing. Over time, I noticed that I was tracking its needs and considering what it might need preemptively. Does it have enough water? Is there a better spot for it to catch more light? And as my investment in its growth grew, I noticed that my own capacity for self care developed. I found myself asking if I was getting enough sun? When was the last time I stepped outside? It felt like a symbiotic relationship had developed.

I’d had the plant for about six years when my partner and I decided we were moving out of state. I realized I’d have to let it go. I was devastated. I found myself trying to bargain, thinking of how I could safely transport the plant with me in a cramped car for days on end. My partner gently suggested, “We can get another one at our destination.” And they were right, of course. Pothos is readily available at your local gardening store. But it wouldn’t be this pothos.

I came to terms with it a few days later and decided to find a new home for the pothos. My partner sent out an email and a colleague claimed it almost immediately. A week later, I drove downtown to deliver the plant to its new office home. To my embarrassment, I cried on the walk from the car to the building. How could something like a plant mean so much to me?

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What I’ve come to see is that over the years, my capacity for nurturing had deepened. The desire to care for and nurture beings has only grown the more I let others in. To me, it’s an indication that my previously quite avoidant attachment was healing and on its way to an acquired, secure attachment.

What the Pothos Taught Me About Myself

It didn’t hit me that I’d been in the same city for so long until I’d let my pothos go. I was starting a new chapter, heading to what we considered to be our forever home. That’s a new thing for someone who spent so much time searching for a place to belong. I simultaneously realized that I had put down deeper roots than I thought and was terrified that I intend to grow deeper roots in my new home. None of that felt real until I had to part with something that had been a quiet constant in my life.

Just because things are changing for the better doesn’t mean that there isn’t a loss. I became a plant person in that last chapter, someone interested in gardening, in herbalism, in tending living things. In some way, I’m grieving the version of me that was. And if I hadn’t given up the pothos, which had become a symbol of that “self”, I wouldn’t have known that this internal struggle was brewing.

We can learn so much about ourselves by being in relationship with the world around us, and that includes plants. The activities we dedicate time to and the connections we foster offer insight into who we are. So when you have a moment, take a look.

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Disclaimer: I'm an herbalism student sharing my personal experiments — not a clinician, not prescribing anything. What works in my body may not work in yours. Please research thoroughly and talk to a qualified practitioner before trying anything you read here.

Hi there! I hope spring is treating you well!

With nature coming back to life in the Northern Hemisphere comes some trouble for those of us with terrible seasonal allergies. I’ve been diving into herbalism over the past year and I’m excited to test out my budding apothecary. This season I have a few herbal formulas already planned out to test and I’m going to you with a report on the first of many experiments.

In my herbalism studies, I’m learning about the different constitutions, which are more or less categories that describe general long standing patterns in how our bodies respond to the world around us. In Western herbalism there is also the concept of tissue states which describes of what’s happening with our bodies in the moment. This may or may not be similar to our baseline constitution. For example, one’s constitution may be one of dry, heat - their body is prone to inflammation and redness that is more tight/contracted or spasmodic. That could be their typical experience, but lately, they’re noticing they’re bloating and retaining a lot of water. If they’re looking for an herbal remedy, they’d want herbs that address a damp tissue states, but also don’t overly dry or overheat the body as per their constitution. For example, cleavers could be a good fit as it’s a cooling and moistening herb that works with the lymphatic system.

An experimental tea blend

So for my first experiment in the apothecary, I considered what my current tissue states might be. I have noticed for a while that I appear to be retaining water more often than not, have patches of weeping eczema, and terrible period cramps that feel more like heavy pressure than painful spasms or stabs. So I went with damp tissue state or even damp and depression as I have generally been feeling run down this winter. I know that burdock root is one of the heavy hitters when it comes to liver and lymph functioning, so I considered centering it in my formula, however I have a ragweed weed allergy and didn’t want to chance it. I decided that yellow dock root would be a good alternative. It functions similarly but acts more as a laxative. It’s a good source of iron, but due to high levels of oxalates, it shouldn’t be used for more than a couple weeks at a time. I added cleavers because it’s an easily accessible, lymphatic herb that is rich in chlorophyll and vitamin c. I for the uterine support I went with red raspberry leaf, as it’s easily accessible, astringent (drying) and is known to support toning the uterus. Finally, i added cinnamon bark for flavor and to act as a catalyst that drives this cool herbal formula through the body’s circulation system.

So how did it go? Well these herbs require different types of preparation since they all come from different parts of plants. Roots and barks like yellow dock and cinnamon do best with decoction when being prepared as teas. So they are heated in water for 15-30 minutes. I started with those together and added red raspberry leaf to steep for 15 minutes. I then strained the mix and allowed it to cool in the fridge. Cleavers are incredibly sensitive to heat, so once the concoction had cooled off, I added the cleavers and let them cold steep overnight. Cleavers works wonderfully as an overnight infusion. After straining the cleavers from my large batch. I had enough tea to drink a cup three times a day for three days. I made a second batch mid week.

The results?

I found the tea to be very, very effective. I saw drastic improvement in my eczema and less bloating in the week that I drank the blend. However, as far as compliance goes (the ability to stay on the protocol), I would follow this regimen for about two weeks before cycling off for a week due to the oxalates, but the yellow dock is SO BITTER, that drinking this was a struggle. Even with the cinnamon pulling through so strongly. I’ve decided to try this blend again, but as a tincture in apple cider vinegar as that’s what I had handy. I’ll keep you posted after I’ve been able to run the full protocol.

Are you practicing herbalism and trying out your own blends, too? Steadily building your personal apothecary? I’d love to hear about it!

Also - interested in incorporating herbalism into your dream analysis? Check out my new offering over at Sweetbay Healing.

Photo by Danial Dez on Unsplash

Before you start gathering flowers and filling jars, let’s get clear on what flower essences actually do. This is emotional and psychological medicine, not physical healing. If you’re looking for something to support a wound or infection, you want a salve or tincture. But if you’re working with grief, anxiety, spiritual transition, or patterns that live in the psyche, flower essences are gentle, powerful allies for that kind of work.

The finished product is incredibly diluted: just one or two drops of actual flower essence in a 1 oz bottle. You might wonder why bother with something so small. Here’s the thing: flower essences are designed for long-term use, creating gradual shifts in your emotional landscape. This is slow medicine. Patient medicine.

Finding Your Flower

Start by researching common wildflowers in your area. Look into your local foraging laws first because some municipalities are more open to the practice than others. While you’re researching, note which flowers are toxic, irritating, or unsafe for human use. You need to be able to identify these plants confidently before you go picking anything.

Once you know what grows near you, see if any have known properties according to Bach or other flower essence researchers. This gives you a starting point, but I absolutely recommend developing your own relationship with each plant. We all respond differently to plant medicine. What works for someone else might not resonate with you, and that’s completely valid.

When you head out to forage, keep your options open. The flower you planned to harvest might not be there. Or a completely different flower might call to you. As long as it’s a flower you’re familiar with and know is safe, trust your intuition. That inner knowing matters more than sticking rigidly to a plan.

Asking Permission

You’ve found your flower. Now what?

Ask the flower for permission to cut it. Yes, I’m serious about this. Pay attention to your internal experience when you ask. The signals are different for everyone: tingles, temperature changes, a stirring in your gut, a sense of yes or no. Whatever form it takes for you, honor it.

If you get a yes, cut just a flower head or two per 8 oz of water. You don’t need much. Some people make the essence right there in the field, which requires bringing spring water, a bowl, strainer, and jar with you. The flowers infuse in sunlight for a couple hours while you sit with them. Some practitioners play music, set intentions, or read poetry that aligns with their purpose during this time.

If you prefer to work from home (like I do), take your flowers back to your space and do the infusion work there.

Creating the Mother Essence and Stock Bottle

You’ll need a large dark jar (amber or blue glass works best) to store what’s called the mother essence. If you have 8 oz of flower infusion, use a 16 oz jar. Pour in your strained infusion and fill the rest of the jar with alcohol that’s at least 80 proof. Brandy is traditional, but use whatever works for you.

Next, make a stock bottle: Fill a 1 oz bottle with your chosen alcohol, then add two to four drops of the mother essence.

Finally, create your dosage bottle. This is what you’ll actually take the medicine from. Fill another 1 oz bottle with a teaspoon of alcohol, add two to four drops of the stock essence, then fill to the top with spring or filtered water.

Working With the Essence

Take one drop from your dosage bottle three to five times daily. Keep a journal to track changes over time. I recommend reflecting back on what’s shifted once you finish a dosage bottle. Many practitioners suggest working with a single essence for a full quarter (three months) to really experience its effects.

This is subtle work. It asks for patience and attention. But if you’re navigating emotional terrain that needs gentle, sustained support, flower essences offer a way to shift what lives beneath the surface.

This guide draws from European folk herbalism traditions as taught to me by a Black practitioner, integrated with ongoing study of African diasporic healing practices.

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Sometimes our spirit team shows us because we don’t get it when they tell us.

For months, I’d been asking: How do you want me to use herbalism? They’d given me the mission (learn these skills) but not the map. I kept waiting for clear direction about how herbalism would weave into my personal healing and my spiritual practice with clients. The answer kept feeling just out of reach.

Then last month, I had a dream that demonstrated just how all of the spiritual tools can come together to support our healing. I won’t give the details of the dream. Some things are too intimate to share, even when we’re doing important work talking openly about trauma and mental health. But I will say this: they offered direction about a plant ally to work with and why they think it’s pertinent to my trauma recovery.

I woke up ecstatic that they had so clearly communicated guidance after I’d been struggling to understand their missives. However, I quickly realized that working with the plant in question wouldn’t be particularly easy to do. Which honestly tracks with the mission at hand. Deep healing rarely offers us the convenient path.

So, how do I work with a plant that’s either difficult to find or difficult to physically handle? Let’s explore some options, because this is probably useful for you too.

Learn all you can about the plant. Where does it like to grow? How does it support its local ecosystems? How has humankind interacted with and used this plant? Does it represent something special in my culture or the cultures that grew up around it? Understanding the plant as well as possible helps you understand the message and wisdom it carries.

Are any parts of the plant easily accessible or handled? For instance, if you’re called to work with a plant that is typically used in teas or infusions and commonly the leaves are used, but you’re sensitive to the leaves, is there an option to work with the roots of this plant or the bark if it’s a tree? Or would working with the vibrational properties of the plant work? If it’s a flowering plant, you could work with the flowers to create a flower essence, which carries the energetic signal of the plant in a more gentle way.

Consider herbalism-adjacent ways to work with the plant. The first that comes to mind is cooking. An example is nettle leaves. A lot of people hate working with fresh nettle leaves because they sting. However, after harvesting, if you blanch the leaves in boiling water for a minute or two, you get fresh nettle as highly nutritious leafy greens to use as a side or main dish.

Here’s what I’m actually doing: I’m cutting down on spending generally, so instead of purchasing the plant from my dream, I asked to connect with flowers in my environment that might help me in the healing process. California lilac (ceanothus) spoke to me, and I recently made a flower essence out of it. I don’t know much about the plant’s spiritual or magical uses yet. I’m just going to use the flower essence and see what unfolds in my healing journey.

As for the plant ally originally assigned - I’m studying everything about it, so that I can add it to my materia medica (reference journal of medicinal herbs) and be ready to work with it physically when the time is right.

You don’t need to wait for your spirit team to tell you which plant allies to work with, by the way. Mine were just killing two birds with one stone: showing me how herbalism and dreamwork connect while helping me think outside the box when working with plants for personal healing.

If this resonates, subscribe to get more insights from my developing materia medica. I’ll be offering a dream circle in the next few months where we can explore this kind of spirit-led guidance together.

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Hi friends! I hope your holiday season held exactly what you needed. Whether that was joy, rest, or just getting through it, I’m glad you’re here.

I’ve been quiet since mid-October, and I honestly wasn’t planning it. But the undeniable urge to create found me and I could not let it go! I’m talking the fog cleared from my mind and the inspiration flowed.

So I let myself sink all the way in.

I pulled out an old chapbook I’d written years ago and started reading through poems I had given up on. They had this energy underneath that I couldn’t see back then. I’ve been reworking the ones that won’t let me go. I think they were good for their moment in time, but the ideas evolved as the world has changed.

And my spirit team has been BUSY. New work is coming through, work that feels aligned with where Sweetbay Healing Collective is headed in 2026. Speaking of which, let’s talk about that.

This Substack has been evolving with me since day one. If you’ve been here from the beginning, you know it hasn’t always had a clear focus. But here’s what’s stayed constant: spirituality and creativity are inextricably linked. You can’t pull one thread without touching the other. That’s it. That’s my truth.

In 2026, we’re going deeper. I’ve got community offerings in the works for later this year, things I’m genuinely excited about. Think dreamwork circles where we gather and tend to our night visions together. Think herbalism, because yes, the plants are calling and I’m finally answering. Workshops and guides are coming that blend ancestral wisdom with the green magic we’ve been disconnected from for too long.

I’m also committing to showing up here more consistently. You can expect newsletters from me every 2nd and 4th Wednesday of the month. No more disappearing acts (well, not unannounced ones anyway). And if you hang out on Substack Notes, you’ll probably see me there more often. I completely underused that space in 2025 and I’m ready to play. Same with the chat feature. I’ve never touched it before, but this year feels like the time to experiment with new ways of being in community together.

This work, this space, all of it, is about reconnection. To our dreams. To the plants. To the parts of ourselves we were taught to forget. To each other.

So here’s what I’m asking: follow along if you haven’t already. Turn on notifications if you want to catch everything. Stay close.

I’m wishing you the most nourishing year possible, and I hope to continue building with you in the months ahead.

With love and creative fire,
Jae

If you don’t know about these traditions, here are a couple of videos about hoodoo and Gullah Geechee history to get you started: Gullah Traditions of the South Carolina Coast and Uncovering the Power of Hoodoo: An Ancestral Journey

Community Connections Are Everything: When creatives come together

Speaking of honoring voices and culture, there are some amazing writers on this platform doing work that matters. I want to specifically connect you with , a talented writer and beautiful spirit, who runs a literary publication, The Southern Dove, that has a series called Southern-izms which centers Black Southern writers and our stories.

Check out the Southern-izms Intro, the first newsletter: Southern-izms #01: Where’s That Milk On Ya Tongue?, and the one featuring our collaboration, titled “Southern-izms #02: When They Speak, You Listen”. These pieces remind us that Southern Black culture isn’t just history. It’s living wisdom that continues to shape who we are and how we heal.

What’s Coming at Sweetbay Healing

I’ve been working on something for years now, going through version after version because I wanted to get it right. I’m excited to announce that later this winter, I’ll be launching an online, asynchronous creative dreamwork course. In this course, we go beyond dream interpretation and work with them as ancestral communication and portals to your creative intuition. More details coming soon!

Also, in a couple of weeks, I’ll be sharing a second newsletter about my experience creating herbal tinctures. If you’re interested in bringing more hands-on ancestral practices into your healing work, that one’s for you.

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October Energy Check: A Three Card Reading

I felt called to pull cards and share what came through. The question I asked: “How do we make the most of October’s energies?”

Know Thyself Adinkra cards: “Bi Nka Bi” (peace) and “Adinkrahene” (greatness)

The Urban Tarot: Three of Cups (Abundance)

Here’s what I’m hearing: In times of uncertainty and unrest (and let’s be real, we’re living in some heavy times), what gets us through is community and connection.

Lean on the strengths and greatness of the people around you. Let them remind you of your own power when you can’t see it yourself. Give your greatness space to shine without apologizing for taking up room.

This month calls for coalition building, reconciliation, and finding strength in numbers. The Three of Cups shows us that abundance is the richness that comes from genuine connection. It’s the safety we feel when we come together. It’s the joy we feel when we realize that we’re not alone.

The peace card, Bi Nka Bi, asks us to lean into each other to support a common good. Which sometimes means finding ways to be in relationship even when things are hard. In this reading, Adinkrahene - or greatness, doesn’t speak to individual success. It’s about stepping fully into who you are so your presence elevates the collective.

This October, as we honor Hoodoo and Gullah Geechee heritage, we’re remembering that our ancestors were never just surviving. They were creating, protecting, building systems of meaning and magic that sustained entire communities. They understood something that we’re remembering today: healing is never just individual. It happens in relationship. Relationship with each other, the land, with spirt. The energy of healing asks us to connect to the wisdom that lives in our bones. The wisdom that gets lost in isolation.

So this month, I’m asking: Who are you leaning on? Where are you offering your strength? How are you making space for the kind of community that doesn’t just exist but transforms?

Your greatness matters. Your peace matters. Your connections matter.

Let’s make this month count.

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Want to work together? Check out my website or join the conversation here on Substack.

With gratitude,

Jasmine

There’s a magnetism to mediumship. It pulls you in, even though you know it’s not a path for the faint of heart. You might wonder: just because you can connect with spirit, does that mean you should? Ethics come rushing in. What happens when we reconnect someone with an unexpected spirit whose messages they might not be ready for? This work isn’t an exact science, and sometimes good intentions collide with painful truths. What if someone’s deep in their grief and want to feel connected and want to book several readings. I discourage repeat customers partly for this reason: the more you lean on mediums, the less opportunity you have to trust your own inner voice. I’d rather teach people to channel their own knowing instead of relying on a guide.

Yet, I do this work because there’s no denying the healing potential. I’ve watched strangers release decades of regret in a single sitting, offering themselves the grace of forgiveness they never even realized they’d denied. People find closure for unfinished business and grounding in their grief. Healing through grief isn’t linear, but mediumship can be a tender bridge between heartbreak and hope. And what about grief and loss work more broadly? Does mediumship complement or conflict with Western mental health practices? I’ve seen therapists and counselors integrate ritual, making space for clients’ spiritual longings alongside cognitive strategies. I think there’s room in the process for mediumship. Although, I think mediumship is most helpful later in the grief journey—when the rawness has softened enough to hold the whispers of the next realm without falling apart. I think if too soon, it’s more detrimental: the impulse to “get answers” can derail someone from doing the foundational inner work that something like therapy provides. Balance matters.

At its best, mediumship stands as community service in its purest form. It mirrors ancestral traditions rooted in culture and history, fighting the assimilation that erases our collective memories. In a reading circle, people don’t just hear messages—they witness each other’s vulnerability and compassion. These sessions can spark conversations we desperately need about death, identity, and belonging.

There’s also the undeniable truth that for the medium, it feels incredible. Imagine glimpsing the power of love in another realm and bringing it back to someone who’s been haunted by loss. It’s a natural high—a reminder that life’s preciousness pulses beneath every whispered greeting from beyond. We glimpse existential insights that ripple through our own lives, nudging us toward purpose. And that leads us to hope: the quiet belief that life is more than this one breath on earth.

We sense growth beyond the grave, forgiveness extended across dimensions, and the joyful reassurance that our pets—our family—are still with us. It’s not wishful thinking; it’s grounded in moments when a spirit’s personality shines through a word, a chuckle, a tear.

At its core, mediumship is about spiritual connection—to ancestors who guide us, to our own higher selves, to the grand purpose unfolding in our lives. What would we do differently if we truly knew that love is eternal? How might we treat each other if every act echoed across realms? And when we sit in that circle of voices from both worlds, compassion floods in. We hold space for our mistakes, for the humanity of the ones we lost, and for ourselves—wounds and all. We rewrite the narratives that kept us stuck and remember that each day is a blessing.

For this medium, curiosity fuels every session. What truly happens when we die? What messages remain unsaid? How much of this life is destiny, and how much is free will? These questions keep the medium’s lantern lit, guiding seekers through the shadows of uncertainty.

Ultimately, being a medium is a calling—not a career you stumble into, but a lifelong practice reserved for those whose desire to heal, to know truth, and to serve others burns brighter than fear. It’s controversial, yes. Some will say it’s delusion; others will swear by its power. But when you witness a heart unshackle itself from sorrow, when you see a community weave together across time and space, you realize there may be no greater purpose.

So why be a medium? Because beneath the veil of our doubts lies an invitation: to bridge worlds, to heal in ways words can’t touch, and to live a life anchored in love.

Want to get a reading this season? Head to Calendly.

There are so many things people believe about mediumship that just don’t hold up when you’re actually practicing it. You hear things like: “You’ve got to be born with it,” or “It’s a rare gift,” or “That stuff isn’t real.” But from where I’m sitting, as someone who walks with spirit often, and has been developing this gift for years. They’re wrong on all counts. Mediumship is a deeply human ability, not a magical accident, not a scam.

Let’s start with the big one: We can all do it. I truly believe that. Just like singing, running, or writing - it’s something you can learn. Sure, some folks are born with a natural talent, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us are locked out. This isn’t a gatekept club. It’s more like a language you forgot you knew. It just takes time, effort, and space to remember.

But that brings me to a second misconception: It’s not easy. Even those of us who are really gifted still have to practice. Some of us sit in the discomfort of not knowing if what we’re sensing is real or not. We have to learn to let go of judgment, to trust what comes, and to stay grounded. Because in truth, not all connections are strong. Sometimes the information comes in trickles. Sometimes you misinterpret. It happens. Mediumship is not an exact science—and that’s part of the magic.

There’s a kind of myth that if you’re good at this, you can read for anyone, anytime. That’s not true. You can’t read for everyone. Sometimes the spirit you’re looking for isn’t ready. Sometimes you don’t vibe well with the sitter, or the energy just doesn’t flow. And honestly? Reading for people I know is the hardest. I can’t always tell if the information I’m getting is psychic, from spirit, or just my memories talking. So I have boundaries. I try not to read for close friends and family. I don’t read for the freshly departed. I also don’t force it, if we don’t connect after ten minutes or so, I hang it up and issue refunds. And I’ve learned that’s okay.

One thing I wish more people understood is your physical and mental health affect your readings. If I’m tired, sick, or mentally drained, the connection can be muddy or even dangerous. My boundaries blur. I get depleted. It’s not just spiritual work—it’s somatic, too. This work pulls from every level of your being, so self-care becomes non-negotiable. Rest, grounding, nourishment, protection. All of that matters.

And speaking of protection, let’s talk structure. I don’t think mediumship requires a formal structure, but I highly recommend it. Having a ritual or flow to your readings can keep you steady. It gives you an energetic container to hold everything that happens. Maybe you say a protective prayer or statement at the start. Maybe you close with a body movement or phrase to clear any lingering energy. These practices aren’t fluff—they’re support systems. Spirit respects structure. Your nervous system does too.

Now, if you’re also psychic (as many mediums are), things get trickier. The way you receive information can get crossed fast. Psychic impressions, emotional energies, ancestral echoes—it all blends. And unless you’ve trained yourself to parse through the noise, your reading can get clouded. That’s why practices like intuitive journaling, somatic tracking, or attending spiritualist circles help. They strengthen your channel and teach you discernment.

A final thought: I honestly think mediumship is just science we haven’t figured out yet. There are folks studying altered states of consciousness, epigenetics, transpersonal psychology, and neuroplasticity. There’s Joe Dispenza’s work, which sits on the fringe of these conversations but nudges us toward asking: what else can the human mind do? How does spirit show up in our biology? We don’t have the answers yet, but I believe they’re coming.

So if you’ve ever thought, “I might be a medium,” or “I used to see spirits as a child,” or “I think I just knew something the other day,”—you’re not alone. That’s the quiet invitation of psychic or mediumship ability. It’s not always loud. It doesn’t always come with thunderclaps. But it’s there, waiting to be explored, unraveled, and most importantly, trusted.

We’re all a little more magical than we’ve been led to believe.

If you’d like to book a reading this season, head to Calendly to schedule.

Sometimes, you don’t need to put magic behind every situation. It's easy to rush into spellwork or manifestation rituals, but not every issue needs spiritual intervention. In fact, throwing intention at everything can interfere with the energy already in motion. That’s energy that might be aligning you with your ideal outcome (or manifesting something even better).

That’s why I believe in checking in first—with your guides, ancestors, spirits, or whoever you work with. Before you fling intentions into the universe, pause and ask: Is this needed?

How do you do that?

There are lots of ways. I wasn’t raised in a home that practiced hoodoo, so I can’t speak to traditional methods. But I can share a process that’s supported me, drawn from my personal tarot study, particularly Benebell Wen’s querent significator technique from Holistic Tarot (2015).

My Method for Checking in Spiritually with Tarot:

I use one deck specifically for spiritual and magical workings. In that deck, I’ve designated:

• A significator card for the ancestors (same card every time, because I <3 consistency)

• Several significator cards for different spiritual workings (e.g., The Magician for general spellwork, Ace of Wands for candle magic)

Step 1: Call in your people

Keep it simple. I say something like:
“Ancestors, be with me as I ask for guidance on [this issue].”

Step 2: Choose your significator cards

Pick the ancestor card and any relevant card for the magical working you’re considering. These are your “markers” in the deck.

Step 3: Fan the deck out, face up

Look through and locate your ancestor significator. When you find it, take that card plus the two cards before it and the two cards after it (for a total of five cards).

• If one of those four surrounding cards is a spiritual working significator, then that’s the action to take.

• If none of them are, treat the five cards as a message from your ancestors about the situation.

Step 4: If you already have a spell in mind, double-check it

Even if you're sure, it's worth checking. Here's how:

1. Choose the significator card for that specific working.

2. Shuffle the deck, then split it into two piles—a ‘Yes’ pile and a ‘No’ pile. This can be intuitive or just evenly divided.

3. Look for the significator. The pile it lands in is your answer.

4. Check the cards before and after it for added insight.

This process helps me stay in right relationship with the energies I work with. It saves me time, effort, and most importantly—it makes sure I’m not accidentally blocking the blessings already headed my way.

Try it. See what your people have to say before you light that candle.

With gratitude,

Sweetbay Healing

Want a tarot reading? Schedule an appointment at https://calendly.com/sbhealingco/tarot

Photo by Ramesh Iyer on Unsplash

I was listening to a tarot reading online, as I do, when the reader mentioned something about a a possible path in spiritual leadership…or being a pastor…or some sort of church leader. Typically when I hear something that doesn’t feel like it applies to me, I move on. It just doesn’t land on my spirit. But this hit me like a freight train.

I thought, “Oh shit! What’s happening?” Now, if it were the first time I thought about pursuing serious religious studies, I would have just let it go. This is the second fail-safe I have built in before making life altering decisions. But over the last few years, I’ve been thinking about the intersection of religion, spirituality, psychology, and community. I mean that’s a large part of what this publication is about! So, I now I’m taking a serious look at myself. Do I want to go to divinity school? Which feels like a ridiculous question. It’s unbelievable. At a time like this? When the world is falling apart, and the price of attendance for these programs is outrageous? I feels like an inopportune moment to increase that self awareness.

From Agnostic to Spiritual

It feels important to note that I grew up agnostic. There was a very loose Christian upbringing and I heard plenty of criticism from my parents about church and religion. So to be considering a path of religious scholarship or even religious leadership is laughable. I have a lot of gripes about organized religion. The power it has in society; the risk for that power to corrupt everyone it touches. The pressure one must feel to embody an air of perfectly balanced imperfection. That’s a lot to hold. I’m not yet clear about why this feels like the next step. Or why at this particular moment in time. Or what about me makes the idea of going to divinity school so intriguing.

On the other hand, I’ve invested years of participating in and creating spiritual spaces. I’ve visited so many different religious spaces over the years to figure out if I could feel the divine there. I’ve been a part of a few covens. I’ve attended church for intense year-long stints. Even as I write this I realize that I have prioritized my spiritual life at various points in my life. So the idea that I could become more dedicated to this area of life isn’t that far-fetched. But am I ready to devote the level of time and energy it would take to go down a path of organized spiritual study?

Slowing Down to Process

I’m not sure I am. Which is why I’m taking another measure before I dive head first into this. I’m gonna slow down. I need to give myself a period of time to process. You know, this feels like being on the beach on a warm day. I’m sitting on the sand near the water’s edge and the cool waves wrap around my toes before they pull back out to sea. It’s jarring the first few times, the stark difference in texture and temperature. But then it starts to feel like a place I could stay for a long while.

So before I decide that this is the path to travel, I’m looking into getting involved in my local spiritual communities - specifically spaces for Unitarian Universalists, pagans, and African traditional religion followers. Maybe what feels like a call to ministry is simply a reminder to feed my spiritual self. If that desire to feed my spiritual life continues, maybe I’ll consider deeper study and engagement. I’ll give it six months and revisit the call. I wonder if the community connection calms the desire or further ignites it?

Have a question you’d like support around? Readings are open now through September 22nd! Head over to our calendar to see the current offerings and times available.

Many blessings,

Sweetbay Healing

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Enjoy!

As a thank you for being a subscriber, I want to offer a reading. In honor of May Day, I wanted to take a look at what passion can create for our lives this month. I tried to keep the reading short and sweet. I hope it proves helpful to you in some way this month.

See you next month,

Sweetbay Healing

THE MESSAGE

Hi friends, beautiful souls, beautiful community,

I’m trying to bring you messages from the guides, the gods, the ancestors, the spiritual world… all of you who are going to read this—all 13+ of you. I want you to know: You’re amazing. Period. Full stop. If no one’s told you today, here’s your reminder.

The world feels pretty bleak right now: confusing, tense, upsetting. But the message is this: There are places of solace for you, everywhere you look. There are people around you who can offer support—and who need support too. Sometimes we’re lucky enough to know who they are. Other times, they’re just out of reach, in your orbit but not yet fully present. Stay open. Stay open to new connections.

They also want you to know your stories matter. They need to be told. So however you can, document your experience. Write it, speak it, paint it, dance it—just do it. Your voice is needed.

It can feel safer to shut down, to go through the motions. And they honor your survival instincts, your will to keep going. But they also say: make room for your tears. Let your emotions out. Pour them into your creative work. Bring them to the spaces where you know you’ll be loved, supported, and held.

There’s something in so many of us that’s longing to be cracked open. And while the world may make that feel risky, it can be deeply healing. If you can, find a space where you can just let go— Let all the fear, joy, grief, celebration, and love come through.

As I write this, a wave of sadness rises, but also a cathartic release. Just to say: I feel. I am still here. I feel what’s happening. I’m still here.

I think of reclaiming familial and cultural traditions we’ve put aside, whether in the name of assimilation or sacrificed to capitalism. Bring back the things that make you feel like yourself—the traditions that hold you.

For me, that sometimes looks like Christian songs I barely remember from childhood. Not because I’m Christian (I’m not), but because the passion and devotion in the music stirs something in me. That feeling—that longing, that fullness—is what I want to call back into my life.

Maybe for you it’s a favorite movie, a dish, a walk in the park your family used to take. Start by doing it for yourself. Maybe others will follow. Bring back the impromptu dance parties, the game nights. Let it ground you.

Also know: We are stronger than hate. We are stronger than fear. You are loved.

AN EXERCISE

Some of us haven’t been making enough lately! Not keeping our hands busy with art, gardening, sewing, hugging, fixing. We’re touch-deprived. Even simple somatic awareness, embodied touch, can be healing.

If you haven’t done this before, try it: Pick up three objects nearby—or touch a consenting being— and really feel them. Notice their texture, temperature, grooves, curves.

Just be present with them.

CLOSING

Remind yourself that:

You are still here. You are not alone. You are connected. You can change. You have agency. You have autonomy.

You have the ability to manifest what you will.

Okay. That’s what came through. Thanks for listening.

If you’d like to connect with your ancestors through a medium or would like a tarot reading for additional spiritual guidance, head to our calendar.

With great love,

Sweetbay Healing

Happy March! This morning I took a quick walk around the neighborhood to get some fresh air and saw a vibrancy to these Los Angeles streets that I hadn’t noticed for a while. It seemed the sun was shining brighter, I noticed more birdsong, and the gentle breeze was so refreshing. I thought ‘everything must be coming alive as spring draws closer’ - and maybe that’s the case. Maybe I’m just in the space to be aware and am more mindful today.

Whatever it is, I know there’s been a shift in the energy. This fall and winter have been pretty shaky here in the United States, politically speaking, and I personally have been spending too much time following every single move being made and the impact on the geopolitics. Couple that with cooler temperatures and things have been feeling less colorful than I’d like. So when March rolled around, I noticed that change was in the air. I’m feeling renewed and energized. There’s ALL the pep in my step! And it’s just in time!

Mediumship and tarot readings are coming back at Sweetbay Healing. The appointments calendar opens up on March 20th and I’ll be available for readings through the summer. I’m looking forward to connecting you with your loved ones!

Also, Craft.Nexus., the free Discord community is still open. If you’d like to connect with fellow creatives and build a community, we’re here and ready to grow with you. This will be a good time to join as well as we’re launching a creative course this summer that will utilize the space to share our discoveries and our work. Come get to know us in the meantime.

Finally, I’d love to offer a short reading to help you navigate the month of March. Here are three tips for staying grounded throughout the month.

March 1st - March 10th: Trust Yourself - Trust your instincts. Know that you have what it takes to navigate any hardships you’re experiencing now. There might be situations that leave you feeling confused, alone, or unworthy. Trust that you have what it takes to find clarity, understand that you have more support than you might think, and that you were born worthy I all the good that comes to you.

March 11th - March 21st: Heaven Sent - Sometimes it feels like we’ve sent out distress signals in hopes that someone or something will respond and give us that hand. Be on the lookout for that support during this period. And don’t worry, you’ll know it when you see it.

March 22nd March 31st: What Is Already With You - Whether new struggles or the same ole thing, the end of March may present situations that leave you with doubt. Similar to the beginning of the month, take stock of what you have accomplished, what supportive folks you have around you, and the strengths you possess. You can do anything and survive anything as long as you stay grounded in who you are and the blessing you have.

Wishing you all the gentleness and restoration possible this month.

Until next time,

Sweetbay Healing

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about culture lately and how complex and layered this one word can be. I looked up the word “culture” in Merriam-Webster (yes, I know, who does that?) and the two definitions that apply both had multiple sub definitions! Our understanding of culture is evolving and we can see that in the very definition of the word. When I’m thinking about culture, I’m thinking about

the set of values, conventions, or social practices associated with a particular field, activity, or societal characteristic (1c)

And

The integrated pattern of human knowledge, belief, and behavior that depends upon the capacity for learning and transmitting knowledge to succeeding generations (1d)

Then I think about what my culture is and I get overwhelmed. When I consider the many intersections of identity and experience that I hold - identifying a single culture becomes difficult. We’re all operating within many (sub)cultures and they’re all transforming over time just as we are. Any definition or explanation of one’s culture is just a snapshot of a moment in time. Yes, there are things we pass down and there are aspects of culture that remain mostly intact through the ages, but I suspect we won’t experience the same landscape of culture twice. And speaking of snapshot and photography, I’m thinking about art and its ability to drive and capture the evolution of culture. What can we tell about culture from the art we’re creating and consuming?

I don’t really have the answer, but I wanted to share some art that I created recently while considering about my American Blackness.

I also want to share the work of a music icon who has shaped my understanding of culture:

The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly) - Missy Elliot

I’d love to hear from y’all. What would you include in a snapshot representation of culture? Post your thoughts in the Craft.Nexus. community or pst in the thread if you’re a Creative.Intuitive subscriber.

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Also, here’s an idea for writing prompt: over on Substack Notes I’m experimenting with bibliomancy and poetry. I’m selecting the 10th word on a page from different books on my bookshelf. That word becomes part of a 11 word poem. Keep up with Creative.Intuitive. to see what I come up with.

Be well and be creative,

Sweetbay Healing

Media of the Month: Uncovering the Power of Hoodoo: An Ancestral Journey by PBS Voices

Welcome to Witch Month and Hoodoo Heritage Month. In the States, we’ve generated so much energy into the occult and paranormal (and witches) during October that I feel so, so comfortable claiming it as our month. So what does it mean for it to be which month? Well, it truly depends on the witch. This hoodoo witch loves to engage in spellwork focused on spiritual growth and intergenerational healing. This hoodoo also watches horror movies and settles into southern gothic novels during the month of October. Come over to Craft.Nexus., our free Discord community for spiritual creatives, and we can nerd out about the spooky, paranormal, and occult.

Announcement

This October, it feels more important than ever to offer support to our communities. I know for so many of us, the world is feeling pretty unstable and scary. I’d like to offer mini tarot readings to help get us through the next 30 days. Here’s how it’ll work: It’s $44 for a 30 minute video reading. You send over a question when you book and I’ll have the response for you within 3 business days. If you’re wanting some support and fast insights, this is a good option. Head over to Sweetbay Healing to schedule your reading today.

Also, for those of us who are called to lean into spiritual growth this month, I want to remind you that spiritual protection is extremely important. To that point, I’d like to offer a quick and dirty recipe for rosemary and orange peel incense. It’s my go-to energy cleanser and will be a weekly scent in my home this month. 

Rosemary and Orange Incense

Ingredients

2 bunches of fresh rosemary leaves

1 orange peel

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to lowest temperature or around 200 degrees Fahrenheit

2. Wash the rosemary leaves and pat dry

3. Cut the thick woody stems off

4. Spread the rosemary sprigs out on a parchment paper lined baking sheet - keep it to one layer

5. Place rosemary in the oven for 2 - 4 hours, leaving the oven door slightly open to help the moisture escape 

6. Once dried, remove leaves from stems and set aside

7. Next, peel one orange and place peel on the lined baking sheet

8. Bake for 30 minutes at 200 degrees Fahrenheit

9. Once baked toss the rosemary leaves and orange peel in a food processor

10. Run the processor until the ingredients are a fine powder

11. Place powder in an airtight container until you’re ready to use

Notes

• I use an incense holder with charcoal bricks (like the ones at Mountain Rose Herbs) 

• If you leave your container cracked just a little it will scent your room like potpourri 

Also, we love music over here at Sweetbay Healing. I figured this is the perfect time to put y’all on to some badass Black goth musicians. Check out “Silaluk” by Shadow Age and “I Hear You Now” by Madame St. Beatrice

With that, I wish you all a wonderful October. Happy Samhain, Happy Halloween, and Happy Hoodoo Heritage Month!

With gratitude,

Sweetbay Healing

www.sweetbayhealing.com