Caught Me Red Minded

He asked me to help move stuff from his apartment above mine into his new place. Sweet guy he is. Of course I agreed.

In the moving van he laughed and said “I assumed you were asleep because it was quite.”

I wanted to pretend I did not know what he was speaking of. I wanted to act like my thoughts are not as fucking loud as they are.

Who was I kidding? I knew for a damn fact he was not talking about the amount I spoke out loud, because that was none. I kept to myself in that apartment room. I never played music. Occasionally I spoke to my snake, Seshat, but never out loud.

He confirmed one of my fears…strangers can hear my thoughts

xoxox, the habitual thinker

Are You Withholding Your Gold?

Do you hold back from singing and dancing in worry of be judged?

Imagine a moment where you are dancing in complete love for the music and someone laughs. Do you take it personally? Do you stop? Do you walk away?

Imagine a moment where you bolt out in song; a voice from your heart. Imagine a person interrupting to mention how “out of tone” you are. How does that feel? Does it hurt? Do you begin to judge your voice? Do you decide to stop sharing your voice?

Did you answer YES to all those questions? If so, consider this: Those judging are using their minds to manipulate their projection. Not to say there is anything wrong with controlling beautiful movements. We can all appreciate an amazing choreographed dance. I know we love hearing Alicia Keys or John Legend.

If we can love those who practice, we can love those who move through Soul. Imagine a world where we flow together. All would dance without judging their movement. All would sing from the heart.

If you have not had a chance to sing and dance with a group who loves your flow, get in contact with me. I will make it happen.

xoxox, I Feel You

Illustration from Nikki Valencia aka SoulBunni

Vegas Tribe’s 5th Anniversary Drum Circle

If you are in Las Vegas dreaming of a conscious community who supports each other, you’ve found Us…

What do you need? What do you desire? What can you give? Answer those key questions, and then make your way to a Vegas Tribe event. All you could ever hope for is found in all the beautiful souls who facilitate and inhibit these gatherings.

We live together, a group of us we call a Tribe
We thrive together, for in this space we cannot hide
We reflect each other, vibrations of Gold and White
We hear the others, with open ears and open minds
-Brianna Florian

Come young ones. Feel the love.
xoxox, Your Guardian Angels

 

MEDIA from A Day In The Life

 

Find Your Tribe: Soul Family

I have been faced with the idea that I have soul mates that I am undeniably connected to. Guess what, that shit scares the fuck out of me.

For me, this means as soon as I make eye contact with these people, they know it is my annoying voice in their head that never shuts up. Not only am I a chatter box, I can barely pronounce my words, my vocabulary is limited and I am dramatic.

My question is: can our soul connections change, grow or diminish?

Change– when I decide a route is no longer for me, I begin to vibrate on levels of new people. Does that make those people soul connections or simply beings with similar aspirations?

Grow– can my soul family expand as I meet new beings in this lifetime?

Diminish– could connections be cut by the power of will (thought and action)?

As you can see, I am no expert of this subject. If you have ideas, opinions or experiences, PLEASE SHARE!

xoxox, the student

Lonely Eyes

He watches me, when it is convenient for his mind. His word play is amateur, but his vibes scream they need a nurturer. I wonder in his darkness. I call his name. I sweetly begin to play his game. I abandoned myself. He calls me what he wants and he calls me when he needs; pleasure seems to be all I can give in these sheets. I am not hurting until his hurting finds me. I roamed upon his glass crystal. I saw all the sights I could see; all the suppressed memories. He seems to be a lot like me; like I was, before transmuting become a favorite pastime. Now I am past mine. Past the humps I piled up. Only to be caught in a maze. For a man who is hazed on the truth of the role I play. To my dismay, I did not help when I played his game. I made it worse. I added to the hurst. A grey area the waves cannot seem to wash away. I let him win this games of his, cause, in the end, I could never win. Winning puts me above. How could I rise above when I find myself below him?

xoxox, the broken-hearted