As with everything I create and put out into the world, I like to take time to sit in both the afterglow and the reality of a few days past to reflect on what unfolded. Reflecting on the logistics of how it all came together, reflecting on the day of happenings, reflecting on the marketing, the ‘what could be better next time’ and the ‘what lessons have I learned?’.


The other night, while going to bed early, an annoying point of tension in my back had me feeling restless and, while trying to ignore it and get comfortable, a few words started to flow through my mind…

“While peace on earth felt full of nerves and electric energy from entering into something new, aligned and designed brought with us a sense of familiarity and ease, a sense of self-assuredness and trust that comes from experience and wisdom by lived experience.”


Surrounded by darkness, I snatched my phone from my bedside table, opened up my notes, and typed as fast as my thumbs could take me through the words that first arose from within. It felt less like thinking and more of a release of the story of the event that I had been unintentionally holding inside. The story, the experience, wanted its daylight moment. It wanted its ‘toss open the curtains, open up the windows’ relief.  And so, it came…

“Sequence, reflection, and playlist adjustments on the fly, lingering in moments where the room felt the weight of a veil about to fall, letting waves of emotion and release roll over and wash through our bodies and souls— it felt like sacred space. You could feel the energy of ease and openness, of looking within and bravely showing up to what was being uncovered, and leaning intentionally and powerfully into the possibilities of the future.”


There’s something I’ve always credited to God in these moments between asleep and awake where my prayers turn into ideas, then into notes on a screen that illuminates my face and the wall and the blankets while the rest of the room rests in darkness. Concepts for meditations, the very name Wander to Wonder, and heartfelt musings, have all introduced themselves to me in this space. In my own space of intuitive knowing and settling into comfort with God I’ve thanked the Divine for what unfolds. It feels like I co-create with God what is being put down. It feels holy.
“There’s something extra sweet about trust.
Trust says, when the candle light of preparation, normally so meticulously crafted and carved out, is blown out with the force of a phone call to go to the hospital for conversations no one wants to have about your fathers health, you travel as fast as smoke rising from the extinguished flame to the hospital in another city to be where your presence is crucial and where hearts need you to be… including your own, ‘Go and be present there’.


Trust says, when you arrive home disoriented but trying to hold it together and you can’t for the life of you decide whether to just make cookies the next morning because the doughnut shop is closed and you want a vegan pastry option but you didn’t have time to make cinnamon buns so you decide a 5am wake up call to follow through on your vision is better than waking up at 5:30am to make chocolate chip cookies and run through the class you have yet to rehearse, ‘morning comes’.


Trust says, when your notes say nothing but the words, ‘glitter all around. All the possibilities. Palm catch what’s aligned with your intention’ to prompt the meditation you didn’t have time to sit in silence with and listen to what’s for this time, you listen to the Voice within and let it pour forth from you and let it be all it needs to be in real time as it unfolds and feels beautiful and tears fall from those listening and imagining and being. ‘Co-create with Me’.


Trust says, ‘this is it’.
Trust says. ‘It is what it is’.
Trust says, ‘what will happen will happen’.
Trust invited me into the space of listening to the Spirit, the Voice, that the learning I’ve done and experiences I’ve had allow me the space of grace to be present to the unfolding; to follow the cues of those present, to notice the air, to notice the breath, to notice the shifts and the silence and intuitively connect with what’s happening below the surface. To trust the spirit moving. To step back and take it all in. To present my offering with hopeful prayer of expectation for each person coming.


The cozy space filled with golden light felt like a cocoon of transformation. It felt safe. It felt… needed. It felt like there was no where to hide. There’s the feeling of how big spaces often make you feel like you could tuck away into a hidden corner and blend in. This space noticed your presence and it was felt by those you were near… sometimes physically before we staggered on our mats to allow for movement without grazing the arms of the people next to us.


Post event, I usually feel drained. The energy coursing through me taking it all out of me. Usually a headache happens— a telltale sign I need to recharge. This was different. No headache. Tired? Yes. But somehow, I was a mix of emotionally exhausted and yet in that ecstasy of joy— that sweet spot that you experience after a yoga class or a nourishing massage.


This event nourished me.
In the midst of chaos and unknowns, of ‘what would I want to say before it’s too late?’ and tears and the first night of peaceful rest I’ve had in a while came an experience curated for others that, as it turned out, nourished my own soul in ways I couldn’t have imagined.
Every word spoken, every hug, every breath, every swing of a hammer, every laugh, every honest and tearful share from the heart from those attending was ‘like honey to my soul.’– a reference I often think of from Proverbs which always feels funny to think of now that I eat plant-based.


I went for a walk one of the following days and found myself in awe of the gift I’ve been given— to hold space for others in this way. I don’t take lightly the privilege it is. It’s a great honour and great responsibility to offer care to souls in a world that would encourage our soul-less-ness. My own soul was abundantly nourished and refreshed by Aligned + Designed and perhaps, It was a lovely start to a year where I can notice my own alignment more clearly.”


At this I closed the notes, locked the screen, returned my phone to my bedside where the 6:10am alarm would now be ringing sooner than anticipated when I first crawled into bed, and found myself feeling cozy. The blankets were just the right amount of heavy to settle me in. The room was just the right shade of darkness. My mind was no longer bustling with the item on my to-do list of ‘write reflection’. I fell into a deep sleep. I woke up feeling like I wish I could stay in bed longer, as I usually do in the winter when morning light doesn’t greet me through the window and the song of birds doesn’t invite me outside to play.
I thought to myself, ‘I’ll share this’.


At first, I thought of sharing the most incredibly beautifully written testimonial from the event we received, but perhaps, that is to treasure for now until another time. Perhaps, for now, what’s needed is this personal share of my own experience with Aligned + Designed and knowing sharing my real experience perhaps builds your trust in me as one who values stories, honesty, and noticing the glimpses of the Divine unfolding around us, unlocking the spaces we locked up from the world.


To close, I looked up that verse in Proverbs I mentioned above. The Passion Translation, my current favourite, writes it this way:
“Nothing is more appealing than speaking beautiful, life-giving words. For they release sweetness to our souls and inner healing to our spirits.” – Proverbs 16:24


Aligned + Designed felt like a love letter, releasing sweetness to my soul and inner healing to my spirit.
Thank you Lea, for creating this beautiful event with me.
And thank you to each person who came; your presence is a gift to this world.