The Path to Living Light

Dedicated to my beloved husband, best friend, and ascended "pod caster"

Since I was a little girl, I knew death was somehow… wrong.

Even though I was raised in a strict religious environment that taught me we’d be together forever—if we obeyed the laws of the church—I sensed something deeper, something freer. It wasn’t that I rejected eternal connection. It was that I knew love didn’t need permission. I knew, without doubt, that after my grandfather passed when I was just eight years old, that he was still with me. I could feel him coming through the clouds, surrounding me in unseen presence. No authority could determine whether or not we would reunite. That connection was already alive.

I carried this inner knowing quietly through childhood, protected by innocence. And for many years, I was fortunate not to experience the sudden unexpected death of loved ones—until I came to live on my horse ranch.

Aside from my beloved grandfather’s passing when I was eight, I hadn’t been visited by the deep grief of losing beloved companions. But as I stepped into life on the land, the waves came. Friends, family; animals I loved like my own breath began to transition one by one. And while the grief was heavy, it was my horses who began to show me something extraordinary.

When they prepared to leave their bodies, they did not panic. They glowed. They knew. They taught me that their love was not ending—it was evolving. And that my childhood intuition, that we could somehow stay together forever even out of the body, wasn’t wrong after all. They showed me that reincarnation is real—that some of them would return in other forms to be with me again, and others would remain in their fully ascended light bodies, always nearby.

They also taught me something even more profound: their ascension is reflected by ours. Animals are mirrors of nature. Nature herself waits for us to remember so she can rise with us. My horses showed me that their ability to ascend in the body was interwoven with our own human ascension—that they could not fully embody their light without us stepping into ours.

This became my vow: to ascend while still alive, so that all who walk beside me—horses, trees, children, rivers, dogs, and birds—can rise too.

And then the teaching deepened.

While seeing spirits and interdimensional beings was a natural state for me, there came a time when my family and I were confronted by lower frequency interdimensional beings—those of both benevolent but trapped spirits, and those of malevolent nature, including cryptids—beings and forces of distortion who terrorized our space. No sageing, no prayer, no patriarchal blessing, or pleading could remove them. All my years of energy healing, communication and protection rituals were nothing against them. I tried everything.

And then, through one moment of clarity and inner surrender, I realized: I wasn’t meant to battle them.

I was meant to ascend beyond them.

It wasn’t just metaphor. It was literal.

From that moment on, I understood that ascension is not a singular leap—it is a spiraling journey.

There are levels, realms, and frequencies—stacked like layers of light. Each one we ascend to is shaped by our awareness, our breath, and the courage it takes to face ourselves. While I will share the full story in another chapter, I’ll say this for now: what I experienced during a temporary stay at a former home—before we arrived at the land we now so lovingly call Chevalia—forever changed me.

It was during that time that I came to understand something both sobering and clarifying: my heightened sensory abilities, gifts of healing, animal and spirit communication, and deeply empathic nature—combined with a destiny to speak for the horse—had placed a target on my back. There are forces that do not want this voice to rise.

Over the past several years, with my three precious daughters by my side, I came to see that we were in the midst of a living initiation. Not just of motherhood, not just of healing—but of warriorship and spiritual ascension. I had fled a toxic relationship that threatened to separate me from my children—my deepest fear—and carried that trauma with me into what I thought would be a place of healing. But instead, we unknowingly entered a desecrated land—a neighborhood haunted by buried grief and spiritual violation.

The ground itself felt unsettled. A nearby cemetery had been plowed over in the name of development. Children had been secretly buried and forgotten. And surrounding us, strange and disturbing reports of cattle and horse mutilations, whispers of vampirism, and an undeniable sense of something deeply wrong. We had literally moved into the gates of hell.

And it wasn’t just me. My three stallions were also targeted—literally attacked by unseen forces. And then myself. We had stepped into a space of darkness that no one had prepared me for. And I didn’t know how to protect my children, my horses, or even myself. But what I came to realize is this: when we make a soul-level commitment to awaken—and to help others awaken—we will inevitably be met by forces that try to stop us. My passion to rise, to speak, to stand for truth and life, is also what draws the tests. And while I was fearful—and rightly so—I never stopped knowing that this path mattered.

I’ve always believed that my journey would plant seeds of remembrance in others. That my awakening would ripple into the lives of those I may never meet. And while I still don’t know the full reach or reason of my path, I do believe it will affect someone—maybe just one very vital person. And for that, I keep going.

Scarred and forever altered by that year of darkness, we fled. And in that flight, we came home—to the sacred land we now call Chevalia. But though I had escaped the outer terrain of that tormented place, the inner gates of initiation had only just opened. The realms had followed me. The invitations from other dimensions could no longer be outrun. They had to be faced.

While we had escaped the land of hell, we found we were still living in a place where the presence of interdimensional beings was strong. There were forces—both paranormal and interdimensional— both wondrous, to intimidating to terrifying. They were testing us, initiating us. At first, Jeff tried to use what his former religious practice had taught him—casting out, rebuking—but it didn’t work. Jeff was a strong man whose masculine and yet gentle loving kind nature was not enough to protect us against the unseen forces and it frightened him. But as we respected one another's individual path, he too began to realize that the power in the face of the unknown—forces that were not only dark but intelligent—could only be overcome by increasing our frequency to rise above theirs and thereby move into a higher realm where they could not follow.

What we were dealing with wasn’t just metaphor. It wasn’t a dream or intuition. These were real attacks—physical, interdimensional, and cryptid. One of our young colts was attacked. We were staying up all night, night after night, trying to protect the horses, exhausted from a battle that had moved far beyond the physical. My daughter even saw the being—so we knew this was not just energetic. We were being confronted by entities from the lower realms who had found cracks in the veil, and I knew they wanted to stop us from ascending. I felt they were threatened by what we carried.

I even slept in the barn to protect the horses. But nothing we did was working. The physical world had no answers. This was spiritual warfare. It was initiatory. And it was asking for something deeper than fear.

After the colt was attacked, and just following the transition of his mother, something else happened—something sacred. Looking out my balcony one morning, I saw a massive white wolf appear in the field. She was real. And she was playing with Nefertiti, who was a young filly at the time. Panicked, I raced downstairs and out the door. But by the time I got there, the great white wolf was gone and Nefertiti and her mother Diva stood staring at me peacefully. But she left something in the field—an energetic signature. A message. We weren’t alone. We were being watched over. We were not only being tested; we were also being supported.

That was the turning point. I called a meeting. I said: We have to stop being afraid.

Everyone else I had reached out to said to flee, to move. But I loved our land. I knew that this wasn’t about running. It was about rising.

And in the darkest moment having our young colt attacked and faced again with unseen forces, this time, this moment, I learned that which I was destined to face should I ever desire to continue my path of ascension. And that was not to run in fear, but to turn and face the dark, and from within, generate my inner light,. And as a family, bound hand in hand, our energetic bodies ignited—we held within us a power of love, not the feeling of it, but a power that I then witnessed was the key.

For on this night, our family circled hand in hand, outside as the sun was setting and as twilight’s soft veil was covering over our land, we stood, radiated our love, our light and made a proclamation—not a ritual, but a remembering. I felt impressed to call in the sword of truth and light, and invoked by our sovereign light bodies, this would literally not cast out, but ascend us out where the dark beings could not follow.

As I spoke, Jeff looked to the sky and gasped.

Whispering to me to turn around, I looked up and above me, in the clouds, stood a flaming sword. A perfect silhouette, glowing with sunset hues—pink, red, orange, gold—a symbol of not just protection, but of our ascension. A sword of truth, and divine essence and power from within and without. As above, so below. As we burned it within, so it manifested without.

From that moment on, everything changed.

The attacks ceased. The land was calm. The darkness fled along with our fear. Only love and light remained.

We had ascended to a frequency where they could no longer reach us.

Are the cryptids gone in this realm we now call home? Are the spirits no longer here?

No—not gone. Only the ones who match our frequency remain. The ancient ones who were here aeons before we arrived and will be here still after we have left.

These are the ones who have allowed us to stay—the beings who observed us, and once frightened us (another story) when we arrived, who tested our intentions and watched to see if we would walk this land as guests or as guardians. Nature spirits, interdimensional beings, ancestors, and cryptids—each one ancient in their own right, each one woven into the fabric of this place.

When we first came, they initiated us. Testing our fears to see if we could overcome the illusion of fear itself. And in so doing, crossing these thresholds we began to build their acceptance, which evolved into not only mutual respect but family. For in the beginning, they needed to know: would we be gracious stewards? Would we take only what was given and offer something in return? Would we live in respect, in awareness, in harmony?

As accepted into their family, they helped protect us from the darkness that had followed us—the forces that sought to break us. But they never positioned themselves as saviors. Like my horses, they were mirrors. Guides. They showed me that the true key, the one that would unlock both protection and peace, was never outside of me.

It was always within.

By consciously calling upon my light body to inhabit me more deeply, by facing my fears rather than fleeing, I began to rise. And together, with my daughters and Jeff—we shifted. We stepped into another dimension. We didn’t move. The house was the same. The land was the same. But everything was lighter. Those beings could no longer touch us, because we had entered a frequency where they could not exist.

I know now that to live as a light being while still in the body is not only possible, but the very path we were born to walk. This doesn’t mean perfection or avoidance. It means becoming more real, more aligned with the truth of nature, the truth of our breath, and the light that pulses within our cells.

But I’ve learned it isn’t about meditating for an hour and returning to distraction. For us, that doesn’t work. Our life is a meditation. Our breath is the temple. We walk in nature as a sacred rite. We care for my horses not as labor, but as ceremony. We talk to trees. We listen to the birds, the insects, the wind. We eat only the highest-frequency foods—plants, nuts, and seeds. We live in reverence for all sentient life.

Ascension, for us, is a constant state of introspection and refinement. If something blocks me, it’s never “out there.” It’s something I’ve allowed to remain within me—an old belief, an unprocessed grief, a fear yet to be faced. And so I turn toward it. Every time.

This path has made us a constant student of the Earth. Every day we seek to learn more about her, about ourselves about the Tao that breathes through it all. And our horses—oh, our beloved horses—they have taught us that our journey to connect with them was always a journey back to the self.

Back to nature. Back to God. To the pulse of the Tao.

They are not just animals as the world perceives them. They are reflections of ascension itself.

And so we walk beside them now, not with sorrow, but with sacred knowing.

That we are rising, together.

To walk the path of embodied ascension is to apprentice in the art of remembrance—to return, not to something new, but to something original. Something eternal. To remember that the body is not a limitation but a temple of light. That nature is not a backdrop, but the very altar of our transformation. That animals are not beneath us—they are our co-initiates, mirrors, teachers, and companions in the return to sacred reality.

Ascension is not a ladder upward—it is a deepening into the center of all things.

Among the most powerful practices are the ones that require no tools, no temples, no teachers—only presence.

Co-Ascension with Animals and Nature

The invitation is simple: be with life. Not above it. Not managing it. Not mastering it. Be with your dog, your horse, your chicken, your cat—not to train them, not to use them as therapy, but to listen, to join, to attune.

If you see a cow in a pasture—pull over. Ask to sit in her space. Breathe and let go and watch her walk towards you. Let your stillness be your offering. Let the pulse of her heartbeat realign yours. This is co-ascension.

It’s not metaphor. It’s quantum. Every being you harmonize with brings your field into greater coherence. The horse eating hay beside you, his jaw rhythmically moving, becomes the drumbeat of your nervous system returning to peace.

The cat resting on your lap while you breathe brings your energy down from the mind and into the earth. The rooster greeting the sun reminds your cells how to rise in rhythm with life. This is sacred technology—not mechanical, but mystical.

Stillness as Portal

Stillness is not silence—it is sacred attunement. It is when you stop striving, stop fixing, stop doing—and simply become receptive.

In stillness, you will begin to feel the subtle symphony of what is always speaking: the breeze in the leaves, the gentle presence of those watching over you, the quiet love of the earth rising through the soles of your feet.

Ascension begins not with doing, but with remembering. Not everyone feels this call—many live to avoid discomfort, to chase fleeting pleasure, or to manage the world rather than meet it. But for some, there is a quiet ache, a piercing knowing: this world is not as it should be. Something deeper calls. A memory from before memory. A glimmer of truth behind the veil. This is the first step—awareness that there is more, and the desire to become more, to embody that knowing as truth.

“You do not learn who you are. You remember.”

This inner calling is the voice of your light body—your eternal Self—drawing you into reunion. You cannot contain it all at once. It arrives in waves, as you’re ready. Otherwise, you would burn up from the radiance of your own soul.

Recognizing the Ascended Masters Among Us

I have come to recently recognize that animals don’t need to ascend at all. In truth, it is we who must rise in frequency to recognize the masters who walk beside us every day. They just reflect where we are along our path.  To the unconscious, they will reflect to them what people like this would call a “dumb animal, or a beast”.   But in truth, they are merely reflecting the dumbness of that person through their own unconscious perception.  

As we ascend—through breath, devotion, stillness, and the light-body embodiment practices—we begin to step into expanded dimensions of consciousness. These aren’t abstract planes “out there,” but subtle fields already present and interwoven with the world around us, waiting for our eyes to awaken. When this occurs, we start to see with spiritual sight, hear with spiritual ears, and perceive with the deep inner knowing of the soul.

In these higher vibrational states, horses are no longer just horses. Chickens are no longer just chickens. A cow in a field is not a mundane animal—it is a portal to divine wisdom, a living elder. Nature, in all her facets, begins to communicate. And not through words, but through resonance.

These beings do not need to ascend to meet us—we must ascend to meet them.

This is a great paradox. We often view ourselves as superior, caretakers, dominators, riders, trainers. But this illusion dissolves as we enter the sacred dimensions of communion. Only those walking the path of sincere embodiment and frequency elevation will be allowed to witness their true nature—not because they are hiding, but because we have not yet attuned ourselves to their realm.

The Ascended Masters have always been here. The trees, the wind, the eyes of the deer in the woods. The soft breath of a horse in morning fog. They are not withholding themselves from us—they are simply not visible to eyes that have not yet softened into presence.

I remember a profound encounter with an interdimensional being—a mantis being—who appeared during one of my deep meditations. Its presence was powerful, ancient, gentle. But it communicated clearly: “I cannot stay long. To remain too long in this density would diminish my frequency, and I would not be able to return to my realm.” That one moment taught me something life-changing: that these elevated beings can only meet us when we rise. And their visitation is not about spectacle—it’s about alignment.

In that moment, I felt honored; humbled.

And yet I have experienced that same magnitude of sacredness while sitting with a dying horse. Or holding one of my chickens close to my chest as she dozed in my arms. Or listening to the munching of hay in the golden light of dawn. I felt the infinite. I felt the presence of what some might call “God”—not separate from them, but within them.

They are already ascended. They are waiting for us to see.

This is why the path of ascension is not one of egoic mastery or spiritual superiority. It is a path of remembering what the ancient ones—the animals, the land, the stars—have always known. When we purify our field through awareness, breath, thought, presence, and stillness, we become capable of witnessing their truth.

And then something miraculous happens: they begin to reveal themselves.

Not because they suddenly become more than what they were—but because we have finally become less of what we are not.

This is the sacred task before us: to rise in order to see. To embody the light in order to recognize the Light. To soften so completely into stillness that the voices of the wild, the whispers of the divine, and the songs of our animal kin return to us—not as a metaphor, but as real communion.

They are not our companions on the journey to ascension.

They are the journey.

It’s easy to think we’re here to uplift the animals. To heal them. To protect them. To be their guardians or caretakers. But that narrative is still human-centered. Still rooted in the illusion of superiority. What if the opposite is true?

What if they’ve been the guardians of our soul all along?

I have seen, with spiritual sight, what few allow themselves to see: the radiant intelligence that lives behind the eyes of a horse. The silent knowing in a chicken’s gaze. The divine presence in the breath of a cow lying under the open sky. These are not just animals. They are encoded with ancient frequencies. They are emissaries of a more harmonious world.

But their truth doesn’t reveal itself to just anyone. They do not speak through dominance or demand. They only reveal themselves to those who quiet themselves enough to hear—to those who soften, surrender, and rise into the vibration of truth.

My own experiences have confirmed this again and again: the more I rise, the more I see. Not upward—but inward. As I bring more of my light body into this body, it’s as if a veil lifts. And suddenly, the field is alive. The horse becomes a teacher. The tree becomes a transmitter. The morning birds become a choir of celestial alignment.

It is not that they are changing. It is that I am arriving.

The Light Body and the Breaking of the Matrix

What if the ascension of the light body is not a solitary path, but one lit by those we love, both seen and unseen?

While others were going out to dinner or seeking distraction in the outer world, my husband Jeff and I would sit under the roses or among the trees, near our beloved horses, and speak of the soul. We talked for hours about ascension, death, the illusion of this world, and what lies beyond. We questioned everything—religion, governance, control. We felt the cage of the matrix tightening around humanity, a system designed not to empower but to distract, to govern not with love but with fear.

As we slowly walked away from the religious structures we were born into, I began receiving transmissions from the horses—ancient wisdom that awakened parts of me no scripture had touched. Jeff, in his beautiful trust, listened as I shared what I was remembering. And then, he too began to have his own encounters—with energies of different frequencies, entities of the in-between. It was as if, once he opened the door, the initiations began.

We didn’t just read about darkness—we lived through it. We were visited by interdimensional forces that tried to shake us from our path. These weren’t metaphorical demons. They were real. And the rituals of old—patriarchal proclamations of spiritual dominion—were powerless against them.

But light was not.

As we ascended, as we activated more of our light bodies through breath, visualization, nature, sound, stillness, and fierce devotion to the truth, the darkness couldn’t touch us anymore. They couldn’t stay in our field.

It was terrifying. And sacred. And necessary.

Jeff, who had once felt helpless in the face of the unseen, began to understand that his protection didn’t come from force—it came from frequency. He stepped into his own light. He began glowing. Radiating. Speaking with such clarity and tenderness to our children. I watched a man I loved become a walking beam of grace, a soul whose higher self was fully embodied.

Two weeks before he transitioned in a weightlifting accident, he became the most luminous version of himself I’d ever seen.

He didn’t know, consciously, that he would soon be leaving. But on some level, he did. He poured love into us like it was his last chance. His eyes sparkled. His voice softened. He gave his children words they would carry for a lifetime.

Even to our daughter, Alexandra, he would say strangely as if standing between two worlds, perplexed, “I shouldn’t be here.” Not in despair—but in unknown premonition.

He was soon to be a pure being of light.

The day it happened did not come with understanding, peace, or acceptance. It came with horror. Agony, Pain. Fear. I was shattered. I couldn’t breathe. Sitting on the stairs, overcome by grief, I felt my daughter beside me—an angel manifesting, gently coaching me to breathe. I heard the voice of my own higher self: You know how to do this. Breathe. And I did.

And when I did, I felt him. And something happened.

I felt between worlds. The veil thinned.

I saw Jeff.

His light body.

Standing before me.

He put his hands on my shoulders and said, “It worked. It worked. We’re still together! Trust me! Trust me! Trust me! Everything is ok! More than ok!”

I could feel his elation, his pure bliss. He was celebrating.

He had crossed over, yes—but we were still one. Not metaphorically. Literally.

His greatest concern had always been, “Will we still be together when death comes for one of us?” And now he was answering that question.

Absolutely, yes.

Since that day, I’ve felt him beside me. Not as a ghost, but as a light being. An ascended master. A guardian. Just like my animals, my parents, my brother and sister, my beloveds who have crossed over—they are not gone. They’re more present now than ever, because I can feel them. I can see them. Because I have ascended enough to perceive what has always been there.

We do not need to leave our bodies to ascend.

And he still has his humor. He has said clearly, "I am the 'pod-caster' now!"

And while my beloved, my horses, dogs, cat, and other beloved family members, my parents have ascended without their bodies, it doesn't matter. They've ascended. The truth is however, we can ascend within our bodies if we choose.

And through that, the matrix shatters. The illusions fall. The lies dissolve.

This is why the system does everything it can to keep us distracted, disconnected, dulled, dumbed down, thinking that nature is insignificant and stupid. They engrain in every one of us to look outward for a savior, instead of the inner Christ, within.

But nature doesn’t lie. The animals don’t lie. They show us. They mirror our state. They know who we are before we remember it ourselves.

This is why I walked away from society. So my children could grow up in a field of truth, not in the fiction of conformity. So they could know who they are, not who they are told to be. And despite the judgment, the criticisms, and the losses—I would do it all again.

Because it’s here, in this sacred space of remembrance, that we return to the real. To the love that never dies. To the light body that outlasts the flesh. To the wisdom of the earth, the whisper of the horse, the presence of those we love.

This is ascension.

Becoming the Living Light: A Path of Embodied Ascension

Ascension is not something that just happens after death. It is not an escape or a disembodied event reserved for the spiritually elite. Ascension, in its truest form, is a process of attaining the full embodiment of light while still alive. It is the slow, reverent attunement of your body, mind, and soul to a higher frequency — one that already exists within nature, within animals, and within the core of your being. It is a return, not a reaching. An uncovering, not a performance. It is about becoming fully alive, present, and sovereign, rooted in truth and radiating in love.

This path of embodied ascension is not abstract. It is practical, sensory, and intimate. It unfolds in the moment-to-moment choices we make — to listen instead of react, to breathe instead of grasp, to remember instead of follow. And it begins, as all true initiations do, with awareness.

Suggested Practices for Embodied Ascension

These are not steps to follow in order, but harmonics that can weave through your daily life. They are reminders of what your body and soul already know.

1. Sacred Awareness

Pay attention. Not with your mind, but with your entire being. Listen to your horse.

Watch the trees. Breathe with the earth. Awareness is not passive — it is the very root

of participation with the divine. This is where co-ascension begins: recognizing that animals, nature, and spirit are already in a state of divine harmony, and we are being invited to align.

2. Breath and Rhythm

The breath is the first doorway. Not just a tool for calm, but a portal to presence. Begin each morning not with a to-do list, but with breath and gratitude. Rise with the sun. Let your day be a prayerful rhythm, not a performance. Let your inhale say, “I receive,” and your exhale say, “I give back.”

3. Thought Mastery

Our thoughts create frequency. The stories we tell ourselves become the codes we live by. Ascension requires that we become sovereign stewards of our mind, choosing thoughts that nourish life, not feed fear. This isn’t about toxic positivity — it’s about sacred discipline. It’s about tracking the origin of every belief and asking, “Is this rooted in love?”

4. Light Body Activation

We are not just physical flesh. We are bioelectric, harmonic fields of light. Through visualization, intention, sacred movement, and alignment with the elements, we awaken the dormant codes of light within us. Practice holding the frequency of joy, gratitude, and stillness. These are not emotions — they are frequencies that realign your cellular structure to divinity.

5. EMF Reduction and Nature Immersion

To ascend, we must reclaim our biological sensitivity. That means reducing electromagnetic pollution, turning off screens, and re-attuning to the resonance of the earth. Walk barefoot on the land. Enbody sunlight on the skin. Bathe in cold water, moonlight, birdsong. Let the earth recalibrate your nervous system. Nature is not background — she is the temple, the teacher, the frequency we return to.

6. Music and Sound and Dance

Play high-frequency tones. Sing. Chant. Use your voice to awaken dormant codes. Sound creates form. Choose music that supports coherence and resonance — Solfeggio frequencies, indigenous instruments, nature sounds. Use music as medicine.

7. Dance

Like no one is watching. Move freely to the dance of the horse, the birds, the sea, the trees. Move like the waters that flow in fluid form within you.

8. Presence as Portal

Your presence is the most powerful tool of ascension. Not your intellect, not your striving. Just your full-hearted, honest, moment-to-moment awareness. This is where the sacred lives. This is how animals recognize us — not by our ideas, but by our frequency. The more you become present, the more you become light.

This is the Invitation

This world is filled with distraction. Even children now suffer under the weight of anxiety, disconnected from their bodies, nature, and truth. But you can remember. You can walk away from the noise. You can walk toward the Real.

It won’t be easy. The matrix will scream. People will judge you. But you will find your soul again. You will find your light. And you will remember that nature, animals, and your own breath are already whole, already awake — waiting for you to join them.

Ascension is not out there. It is here. It is now. It is in the next breath you take. The next truth you choose.

The next time you walk barefoot into the morning light and remember:

You are already light.

You are already home.