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Pamper Your Soul – Create an Altar

You don’t need an altar to pray.  You don’t need an altar to meditate, unless, you’re someone like me.

Someone who needs a focus point.

Someone who shares a house with others and desires an intimate space.

My altar, and the few feet of square footage surrounding it, is my sacred space.  It embodies the calming energies that my soul craves.  It speaks of the people and things that I want to bring into my prayer and meditation.



If you too, desire a sacred space, to pamper your soul, try these tips to create your own:
  • My altar is a shelving unit that I found at a yard sale.  Whatever works for your space will do.
  • After you pick an altar, or an altar area, clean it. I start by asking for a blessing. I use some mild soap and water and add a few drops of essential oils to the mixture.
  • Clean it energetically. Light some sage and allow the smoke to engulf the altar. I ask that each time I sit here, that love and light surround me and that I reflect love and light back to the world.pamper_soul_altar_2
  • I give myself a few minutes of introspection to think about certain items I want to lay on my altar. Sometimes, it’s as simple as a piece of fruit, in gratitude for the food on my plate.
  • I always place a candle on my altar. I love this one from Danielle LaPorte.  It’s an Ayurvedic  soy based candle infused with essential oils.  The packaging is reusable too.pamper_soul_altar_3
  • I keep a journal and inspirational reading material on or near my altar.
  • I adore fresh flowers.  They are a reminder of the beauty that surrounds me.  I change the water daily and at the first sign of wilting, I remove them. (I don’t want stagnant energy in my space.)
  • A must have for me are essential oils. I get quiet, take a few deep breaths and tune in to what oil is “calling” to me. I trust the intelligence of the oil to know what my body and soul needs that day.  I then do an anointing ceremony.

Altars are pliable.  I change mine according to the flow of my life.  One day, there’ll be a rubber duck and the next day, a kaleidoscope.


Creating this intimate space is all about how YOU want to pamper your soul.

Altar dancing,


PS Get my 6 tips on saving money with essential oils click here.

Violence Lives Next Door


Image result for domestic violence

I never would have dreamed that I would be writing about domestic violence.  It certainly doesn’t fit my topic list.

Last night, I had to dial 911.  There was a domestic dispute occurring next door that I couldn’t ignore.

Let me give you some background.  This summer will be two years since the new neighbors moved in.  A mother and father purchased the ranch type house that has been made into three apartments.  When I introduced myself to the father he told me he bought the house so that his grown children had somewhere to live. (First flag.)

His daughter and her baby live on the end furthest from our house.  His two sons moved into the apartment closest to my house.  One of the brothers passed away last summer, I’m told, due to a seizure.  The parents, live in the middle.

The first summer, one of the brothers was talking with my daughter and her boyfriend from across the fence.  My husband and I went out to enjoy a cocktail on the patio.  The brothers asked if they could join us.  Wanting to get to know our new neighbors, we agreed.

The youngest brother (the one that is still living) began to tell us the story of his life.  He was in a horrific car accident due to drunk driving and from what I understood, suffered head trauma.  As we continued to talk, I could tell something was “off.”  The older brother didn’t say much at all.

The youngest brother was drinking a beer.  I asked, “How many of them have you had?”  He said, “Oh, just this one.”  That’s when I knew he had to be on something.  There is no way, one beer could have had him slurring.  A few minutes later he asked if he could use our bathroom.

I allowed him to do so with trepidation.  I followed him into the house.  When he came out of the bathroom he seemed disoriented.  He said, “So, what part of the house is your apartment?”  I said, “U hm, this isn’t an apartment, it’s a single home.”  Then he said to me, “So where’s my house?”  Oh, the thoughts that were swimming through my head!  Needless to say, I’ve never invited them over again and have remained on guard.

Shortly after the death of the older brother, a young lady and her son moved into the apartment with Tim (a fictitious name to keep it simple).

I recall at least three times, police being at the apartment.  One incident involved Tim brandishing a knife and threatening his sister  There have been numerous fights between Tim and his girlfriend.

Not two weeks ago, my husband was outside.  He opened the door and asked me to come outside.  Tim and the girlfriend were having a heated fight.  My husband kept asking me, “Should I call the police?”  My husband told me that he heard her say to Tim, “What are you doing to my son?”  The son is between 2 and 3 years old and we hear this kid cry a lot.

Fast forward.  Around 9pm last night I heard Tim screaming at his girlfriend, threatening her not to “…go out that door…”  The next thing I hear is him screaming at someone I’m presuming the little boy, “Get back in the room pussy.”  Then I hear a lot of banging, like someone is punching a wall.  I dialed 911.

The police officers arrive.  I hear one of the officers say, “What happened to his face?”  I can only assume, they were referring to Tim, as the child was not removed.  Either he banged his head/face into the wall, or the girlfriend tuned him up.  I also hear the little boy say, “I’m scared.”

What I didn’t expect to hear:  The police officer asked if either one of them wanted to press charges and they both declined.

After the officers left, they were quiet as church mice.

I am scared for that little boy.

I will never hesitate again to call the police.

Something is going on and I don’t like it.

And what the hell are the parents doing?  I know they have to hear this shit.

Have you ever been in this type of situation?  What did you do?

Dancing (with my heart in my throat),