You’ve been taught to doubt your desires. Conditioned to believe that pleasure is a reward—something you have to earn, something you need permission for, something you can only taste in small, socially acceptable doses.

What if I told you that was all a lie?

Pleasure isn’t a reward. It’s a compass.

I have a gift.

I see the God in people—their infinite brilliance, their highest expression, the raw, unfiltered power of their divine essence. I don’t just see it; I feel it, like a radiant current running through my body. It’s breathtaking. It’s undeniable. It’s what allows me to hold people in their greatest potential, long before they can see it themselves.

But every gift has its shadow.

Most of us are conditioned from childhood to move through life powered by guilt. If we don’t, we’re told we are selfish, irresponsible, or unloving. Guilt whispers (or shouts) that we must do, give, and sacrifice—otherwise, we are not enough. This programming is so deep that we often don’t even realize we are running on it. It’s glamorized as “being a good person” or “doing the right thing.”

But guilt is a frequency of contraction. It pulls energy inward, like a vacuum of unworthiness. It creates actions that, no matter how well-intended, carry an undertone of lack, obligation, or self-punishment.

Manifestation isn’t something you turn on and off.

Every moment of every day, you are manifesting, and your reality isn't shaped by what you want or even what you need; it's shaped by who you believe you are.

This reality operates at 100% all the time, reflecting the totality of your energy, beliefs, and identity. If you see yourself as someone who is always struggling, your reality will align to reinforce that story. If you identify as someone worthy of abundance, the universe will reflect that, too.

Have you ever felt joy or love, only to realize later that it was tinged with something deeper? Perhaps a hint of fear, a need to be seen, or even a fear of losing it? If so, you’re not alone. Emotions—even those we think of as “positive”—can carry subtle undercurrents of past wounds or unmet needs. But what if there’s another layer, a higher octave of these feelings that’s accessible to you?

Emotions like anger, sadness, and envy are often labeled as “negative,” leaving many of us ashamed or unsure of how to engage with them. But these emotions, when processed consciously, can guide us toward clarity, growth, and aligned action.

The key is recognizing whether we’re experiencing these emotions from a disempowered state or an empowered one.

Disempowered emotions, often rooted in victim consciousness, keep us stuck in cycles of blame, helplessness, or reactivity.

There comes a point on the path of expansion where you stop treating yourself as the problem. You stop carrying the weight of others’ projections, their opinions, and their wounds as if they define you.

You realize you are not here to be small, apologetic, or palatable to others. You are here to thrive.

When someone calls you selfish, it’s often their own unhealed wounds speaking. When someone accuses you of talking down to them, it’s their inner critic they’re hearing—not your voice. 

Their stories are not your truths.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt the pulse of something primal and untamed in me, something deeper than what our modern world allows us to claim. It whispers of raw, unapologetic Desire—the kind that stirs in our bones and speaks through our bodies. And yet, equally present is the still, holy essence of the Erotic—a space that invites us into awe, reverence, and sacred connection.

But somewhere along the way, Desire and the Erotic were fractured.

As a child, I idolized Shirley Temple. Singing, dancing (especially tap), and performing came so naturally to me that it felt like breathing. I was alive on stage—radiant, whole, and deeply loved. I still remember the feel of the tap shoes and tights on my body, the thrill of the lights, and the audience before me. For those fleeting moments, I felt complete, like I belonged in a world that loved me as much as I loved it.

There was a time in my life when I had what most people would call a dream life.

I was successful by any measure. I began my career as an illustrator and artist, working for Walt Disney on Saturday morning cartoons, and went on to build a thriving career as a writer and creator in comic books, video games, film, and fiction. I married my best friend, raised two incredible children, and traveled the world.

And yet, inside, I carried a quiet, persistent ache for more.

In a world driven by polarities—light versus dark, masculine versus feminine, yin versus yang—we’ve been taught to seek balance. Balance, we’re told, is the key to harmony. But balance is inherently limiting. It assumes a division, a separation between forces, and a careful negotiation to keep them at peace.

True mastery lies not in balancing opposites but in DISSOLVING them.

What if the real power, the real freedom, comes from transcending polarity altogether? From uniting these forces so completely that they cease to exist as separate entities?

Growth doesn’t happen in the safety of what’s already known. It lives at the edge—the place where fear mingles with desire, where courage meets possibility.

The edge is the moment where your heart beats faster, your breath catches, and time seems to stretch.

It’s the gateway to transformation.

But too often, FEAR at the edge creates barriers: it blocks the path ahead or drags you back into what’s familiar. To truly grow and expand, you don’t need to eliminate fear—you need to bring it with you, allowing it to walk beside you.