There is a pathway that as human beings, we all must walk on our journey of evolution and healing. 

On that pathway, if we are lucky enough, if the timing is right, and we so choose, we may find ourselves in front of those who offer us insight and wisdom into our own healing process—and shed light on our relationship with ourselves, with others and with the Divine.  

I had the deep privilege of encountering not one, but two such teachers that brought profound healing and guidance, putting me on a direct path of the soul’s purpose. 

This journey took me through doorways that lay so far beyond the typical experience of human life, but surprisingly enough, which brought sense, love and extreme beauty to it.  

Read on to see that while the details of our stories may differ in scope and severity, the emotionality of it may be familiar to so many of us. 

The following section is important, not for the specifics of it, but because it provides the soil from which all the rest of it blossomed.  

It was many years ago now that I was first graced with a most unusual and precious experience.  

I was a young, Korean-American woman, straddling two very disparate worlds.  I housed within me—through biology and upbringing—the East, steeped in seven millennia of culture and tradition, unrelenting in its pride of purity.  Each member emerged from the whole and contributed their highest and best to serve the collective, and in so doing, is everyone raised up and cared for, better than what one could do on their own.  

On the other side, I was physically immersed in the progressive West, a beacon to the rest of the world, holding the promise of change, transformation and forward movement.  Here, the individual reigned supreme, and the emphasis was on freedom and independence.

Each side has its own beauty and wisdom, but at the time of my entrance into this world, these two factions couldn’t have been more at odds.  I was born of traditional Korean parents who’d immigrated to the west coast in the late sixties—directly into the quintessential era of exploration with what was considered the profane.  

Juxtapose that against the stringent culture of my genetic lineage, and you can perhaps imagine the situation.  I had my own desires to be free and explore, including living outside the rules of obedience and duty, to be my own person, and to do what made me happy—and this terrified my family when it looked to them that my desires would erode our collective wellbeing.  They had given me everything and wanted to protect me from being eaten up and swept away into what looked to them like anarchy and debased living.

Heavy judgement was aimed directly at me from both sides, as each asserted and defended their stance.  All this with me—a child—squarely in the middle. I desired (and needed) both the support and belonging with my family and acceptance with the society that promised the freedom my heart so deeply longed for.   

But neither side would have any of it until one or the other had won. My outer world was a perfect re-creation of the one inside me, an intense battleground of two opposing ideas:  the freedom of the individual and peaceful union with the collective.

These two concepts, individualism and oneness, were reflected to me and clashed—oftentimes laden with fear, hate and righteousness—everywhere in my life.  Out of my deep desire for both, I became a bridge between the two.  The conflict (and its resultant mess) rose up within me as it rose up all around me.

By the time I’d reached my mid-twenties, I was deeply confused and severely depressed. I had taken things as far as I could, trying to make a life for myself, pretending it wasn’t there, that it didn’t matter. 

I had already lived a very full life of striving and achieving and money and making it all look good, desperately hoping that it would make up for what I felt about myself on the inside.  And on the other side of things, I was a mess and hid on the couch for days or months at a time, doing only the bare minimum to get by—or not—so I could gear up and do it all again.   

Although I liked people and was desperate to belong, I couldn’t have relationships that were honest or authentic.  At that time, the only choices I had within were to be myself and to be ridiculed, punished and rejected—or—to sacrifice myself and my gifts, completely in service to others' self-serving desires, so I wouldn't get dumped.  I chose a lot of the latter.

In order to fit in with my family and society alike, I lied about everything to avoid rejection, judgement, and anger.  I lied to get approval.  I lied to get love.  I lied and did things that made me hate myself beyond all reason.  Most of all, I lied to myself so I could stomach it.  And in the end, that is exactly what I became—a liar, spinning stories everywhere that would hopefully ensure a place for me to be. 

Somewhere. Anywhere.  

This occurred in just about every level of my life, with big things and small alike, until I became so hopelessly lost I could no longer find myself, the very one I was trying to make a home for with all these lies.

I was in the throes of a full blown mid-life crisis, worthy of Don Draper, by the age of 25.  I didn’t realize it, though, because I had lied to myself about that too.

Here's what I could no longer deny though:  nothing about my life felt right or true anymore.  No matter which way I turned, there was an emptiness and loneliness that I couldn't seem to fill, no matter what I did, sacrificed, accomplished, or owned.  All those things I so deeply desired for my life—to be loved & to love without reservation, to belong, to be joyful, to have peace, to make beauty—they were so far away from me, I no longer believed that I could have them.  In fact, I no longer believed it was possible in this world for anyone.  

And then something happened that, to this day—even after everything that I have been entreated to—reduces me to tears over the beauty of it.

One Wednesday evening, an acquaintance of mine invited me to what I thought was a party.  She told me that there would be someone there that brought through information from the divine, someone who could answer any question you had about your life.  

As it turns out, it wasn’t a party, but rather a gathering.  And this is how it came to be that I found myself in front of a full-body oracle, supposedly bringing through Divine Mother in the form of the Goddess Sarasvati.  I was curious but wary. Oracle, Divine Mother, Goddess—these weren't terms I'd ever really heard before.

I was educated as a Petroleum Engineer with top marks.  I had a logical and analytical mind and a lifetime of stringent discipline to back it up.  Growing up, anything out of the conservative Korean-norm was rooted out and punished in my home. Plus, this type of thing was not anything I’d ever truly considered as real.  Truth be told, it scared me.  

But there I was, in the audience of Divine Mother—whatever that was—a tightly drawn mix of being darkly suspicious, terrified, utterly fascinated, and intensely desirous.  Underlining it all, though (and what kept me in my seat) was my thorough desperation for answers.

An oracle, as I soon discovered, is someone who can step to the side of or behind their body, and allow another entity or consciousness to come through, usually to give counsel and healing.   I had a difficult time understanding what I was seeing, but this person, this consciousness, this whatever-she-was, fascinated me with her presence of being. 

At first I watched with the clinical distance of an observer. Her ability to talk with people about what mattered most to them was nothing short of powerful.  I saw something that night that I’d never known was possible.  It was not the phenomenon of full-body oracleship—although that was quite something to see—but it was her ability to put people at ease and deliver them through the excruciating circumstances of their lives into an understanding of what it was for and how they came to find themselves there. 

The stories that were cast before her were the type that were held very tightly and woven in layers of isolation, suffering, shame and loss.  To see those stories shared aloud stunned me.

I watched with rapt attention as she made her way around the circle of people in the room.  What struck me was how she attended each one; for within just a few minutes, she would ask just the right question, or say just the perfect thing—sometimes something private that the person had never spoken aloud—that made the walls that barricaded them, crumble in one efficient sweep.  

Once freed, they’d pour out the contents of their hearts, admitting things never before spoken aloud, or asking for their heart’s desire with the earnest purity of a little child, seeking what only a mother could give.  I saw things like deeply held shame and dark, hidden secrets shed on the floor at her feet—in public, no less.  

I saw that many of those people left her audience feeling unburdened and freed, having been seen more fully, not as just the accumulation of their bank accounts and their deeds in life, but as souls, journeying a human life for the purpose of expansion. 

While interesting, it was not so much in what she said to each person, but the way she regarded them that gave me pause. There was such an honoring  of each person that came before her. I'd never seen that before.  For the first time, I felt a chord of something true had been struck within me and the reverberations of it nagged at me.

At that time in my life, the notion of an emotional process, of healing, was silly and ridiculous to me.  I felt it was the stuff of flighty, airy people. I had devoted my life to making myself look strong and successful in the eyes of others, had fooled myself that I needed no one and no thing.  The touchy-feely had no place in my world; to me, it was a sign of weakness.

But I couldn’t ignore what I’d seen that night and the rumblings of a deep longing that bubbled up as a result. I could think of nothing else.  After about a week, I had decided. I knew that I had to pursue this thing, whatever it was.

What followed was something that spanned over two decades and took me to places so far beyond what I could have imagined possible for an ordinary girl like me.

I should tell you that Sarasvati was very beautiful in her appearance and demeanor.  She was a demonstration of grace, refinement and elegance that was so total that I don’t believe it can be expressed in words or anything physical. 

But really, it was her kindness that pinned my feet to the floor in front of her. She did not approach me headlong in those days because she knew I was too damaged and I couldn’t—I just couldn’t.  Instead, she wove me gently in beauty, day after day, fielding the assault of questions I plied her with—all the while, the lyrical sing-song of her voice, wrapping me in layer after layer of that indescribable beauty.  

And so began my not-so-standard education.  I approached with caution—as compelled and as starving for that beauty as I was, I was still very frightened.  

But as blessed relief from pain came, I opened up on my own accord, just a little.  For a time, this is how we worked—just a little bit here, and a little bit there with lots of beauty woven in between.  I gradually became accustomed to the rhythm and tenor of our work, and I began to relax a bit more.  It was during these first few months that we carefully constructed a robust and durable foundation of trust between us, which we would use and build upon for the rest of our relationship together.  

Soon enough, relief began to flow through me with some consistency.  At a certain point, the relief I felt was so immense that I just let go and surrendered myself wholly to it.  It was then that the thick shell I’d encased myself with cracked wide open and I began to weep a river of tears. 

I wept for myself, I wept for the injustice of my life, I wept for the sheer senselessness of the living I’d done and that had been done to me, where stuff and appearances reigned supreme over people, where exploitation and usury and want, want, want ruled the day. I wept for the waste that my life had become, despite my best efforts to the contrary.

I wept over the cruelty that I’d endured as a child, and yes, as we humans all endure, because we think we have no choice. I wept for every child that ever felt as I did—worthless, worthless, absolutely worthless, a fraud, a liar, abused, neglected, afraid and so woefully alone.  I wept because god had left me abandoned and unprotected and I was now damaged beyond repair.

And then I wept with bitterness that I might never leave this wretched darkness.  For you see, I was insane with the fear that I was made from it.  

I spent over two years like this, laying in bed and weeping.  I didn’t work or have a normal life of an educated woman in her mid-twenties—I only wept and howled with the anguish of a child forgotten and left for good, just a piece of garbage to be kicked to the side of the road without thought.

Each day, Sarasvati cradled me close and allowed the emotion that I'd held since childhood to dislodge and move to finally see the light of day.  She caught each tear and blessed it as it ran its course down my cheek to join the now sizable river of my making. She stroked my hair and whispered in my ear, over and over, that All is well, beloved one.  All is well. Shh, little one, she said, It is but a dream.  

She not so much told me, but emanated, and then demonstrated, that I was whole, that I was beloved, that there was nothing truly to fear. 

I did not believe her.

I could not. I was angry at god, the universe, and if she was that, her too. And still she tended to the wounds and gashes as they endlessly rose up within me.  Tenderly, she handled them as if they, no matter how horrific or putrid, were of the utmost importance.  

And then one day, after a little over two years had passed, I moved through an entire day without tears.  And then another.  And another.

In all of this, Sarasvati taught me the true nature of the Self—its relationship to this world and to the Divine—and gave me a true foundation from which to leap.  

First, she taught me that this world is dual:  low and high, ugliness and beauty, lie and truth.  That it simply could not be  that I was only the lowest end of the spectrum, for one end cannot exist without the other.  She taught me not with her words, but in the way she held me—with the ceaseless compassion of Divine Mother.  

Through countless hours and years of demonstration, she showed me that compassion is simply to be in union with  another in their pain.  And this is exactly how she sat with me: together in my filth and self loathing, in the ironclad identification of myself as worthless. 

She joined me there and wove her beauty under me and over me and through me, year after year, balancing my darkness with her light.  I could not help but to respond to that light, to reach for it and drink deeply.  I began to heal. And as I did, my own light began its shy peek forward to meet hers. 

In sitting with me in this way, Sarasvati was in fact, painstakingly stitching the human being of me together with my higher aspect, the White Pearl, the one that I had refused to acknowledge.

And this is how I came to know the nature of miracles.  For you see, the impossible had been born within me. 

As you might imagine, I was thoroughly fascinated with just how one might get  the kind of compassion that she showed me, or at least something in that direction. 

Through this experience, Sarasvati showed me that concepts like kindness and compassion are not things that can be taught or forced through morality or any other means, but rather, they naturally emerge from the Self when that Self is whole.  That real and true compassion did not mean to pity or to feel sorry for another's pain, nor did it mean to help another with words and instructions on how to get out of their situation.  

I eventually came to understand that a pathway to compassion was simply to allow my own pain—not push it away—and then heal it so that it existed within me in a state of expanded understanding and true perspective.  Only from that vista, could I have true compassion:  no judgement, no holding myself above or apart from, another—just as she did with me.

Part and parcel with this teaching was the gift of understanding that life is only truly safe when you are safe within yourself, come what may. 

With her, I was whole, without her, a mess.  Like a true Mother, she first did everything for me so I could finally breathe, then arranged the next piece so that I could establish that safety within myself. 

As you might understand, I never, ever, wanted to leave the heaven of her—and if I had my way, I never would have.  But in service to my evolution, she pushed me onto the next part of my journey—for which, to this day, I live forever in gratitude.  

The next three years of journey was focused on Mastery of the Ego.  For this, I worked intimately with Indra, a consciousness with a rich lore of his own. At the time and for many years following, I had no idea who he was—only that he came to me as a gift from the Mother.  And of course, by this time, I had come to trust what she served me.

What I knew was that I couldn't allow myself to fall back into the patterns of living and thinking that delivered me in such shambles to Sarasvati in the first place.  While those first years with her had saved me from drowning, I knew I was not yet capable of negotiating what landed me in my circumstances in the first place.

Through my work with Indra, I came to understand the role that the ego (also called the intellect or limited self), plays in shaping one’s circumstances and experience of life.  It took a tremendous focus and a sheer force of will to walk this pathway of awareness and healing.

Hand in hand, we walked the convoluted path of the ego, carefully tracing its every move and its twisted and insane logic. This process of forging mastery is arduous and meticulous work, all by itself.  But the hardest part for me was that it delivered me directly back into the bowels of what Sarasvati had seemingly rescued me from.  Indra continuously assured my safety and proved it over and again, as he patiently showed me millimeter by millimeter, how to master what had me so thoroughly imprisoned.   

I cannot adequately describe the experience of how this all unfolded.  If I could, you might lie down with me forever and weep over the intensity of beauty that he unleashed in my experience of life.  Once again, I came to know what it is to be wholly cherished, all the way down to the substance of Life that I am made of—but this time, in relationship with the Divine Male aspect.  

In the course of our dealings together, Indra did not, like Sarasvati, weave me in layers of beauty.  What he wove instead was a beautiful cloth, the threads of which were made of nothing more than his being and mine.  

He bid me to follow him into the haunted depths of the twisted darkness I so wholeheartedly believed myself to be.  Again and again, he’d swiftly and unceremoniously knock me over the edge of the cliff and into the abyss—with me, frantic in abject terror and freefall.  And when I’d hit bottom, there he'd be, just waiting for me to get there.

When I’d finally stopped thrashing about enough to pay attention, he’d look me in the eye, as if no one else existed save for the two of us.  And in those terrifying moments, no one else did, even though we did much of this work surrounded by, received, and held my beloved Mastery Circle, Agni.

Indra held open a very wide space for me to travel the emotions of rage and anguish over my circumstances, to push against the seeming endless layers of fear and loathing. 

When I’d finally exhausted myself, he spoke with a quiet intensity that etched into me what was true of my being. He spoke to me of my eternal nature. That I was unlimited.  That the hell I was standing in was not more powerful than me because I was its  Creator. 

He showed me how to trace the outline of the dragons that haunted me, how to run my hands over the contour and shape of them until I knew them by heart.

Then he showed me how to upend them for good.

One by one, we visited every place within the mind that had me cornered and in suffering.  And one by one, he stood in witness as I slayed the dragon into submission. In this process, each hell would become just another place—dark, yes—but now, the blackness was firmly woven together with Truth.  But even more amazing, it bore the mark of ownership—mine.  And never again was I frightened by it.  

With every layer and level of hell he journeyed with me, we rose.  For what we traversed, we did so in Tantra, in equal turns of complete surrender and union, each to one another. 

The cloth we wove together was one of devotion and magnificence, and one of outrageous Love that carried me effortlessly through the unthinkable.

Between those dark journeys, Indra spoke of the nature of God and the Universe, consciousness and soul—and how we human beings fit into the scheme of Creation.  We explored the nature of power and the truth of manifestation on this plane of existence. 

He spoke of divine union and tantra until my head spun and my heart was set ablaze with the searing longing for freedom and union that I had brought into this life.  Indra utilized that passion to burn through my resistance, my disbelief, my laziness, my fear.  And then he helped me to hone that desire into a single pointed focus to drive me into the places I most despised, again and again.

He spoke with me of Mastery and just how close it was to me, ripe for the taking—no matter what the world showed me in contradiction.  When I insisted on my powerlessness, which I did often, he used my victories in hell to prove me wrong until I could no longer push away my power or try to hand it back to Sarasvati and hide in her skirts, no matter how badly I wanted to.   

This is how the Warrioress that I  am was forged.

When we'd completed the bulk of our dark travels, Indra planted the silent and powerful seeds of Kriya within me.  And for one quiet year of Kriya, we wove into our cloth, a mighty expansion of Self and possibility that would go on in later years to pave the rest of the way Home for me.

During these years, and many more to follow, Indra entreated me to so many things.  But mostly, he treated me as if I mattered.  

And finally, I knew that I did.

The next two years of study were spent in learning the healing arts as it pertained to both individuals and for the world en masse—so back I went to Sarasvati to learn the anatomy of healing through the modalities of Pranic and Template Healing.

Through these teachings, I became acquainted with the concept of reflection as a means for coming to conscious awareness of what is so within me and ultimately, healing and expansion of the Self. 

In simple terms, whatever I saw before me was simply a reflection of that within myself. This could have been a bit depressing in that the only people who come to healers are not well.  To add to that, the world in general was shaping up to look very unwell. 

But as we worked, what began to emerge was a beautiful picture of our relationship not just with ourselves, but to our outside world.  That while yes, we were separate human beings, living an individuated experience of human life, that through compassion, we created a bridge to oneness with others and the life all around us.  

It was a slow and gentle process of moving from the familiar idea of the individuated Self to the less familiar, esoteric state of union with all that is.  It was from this foundation that came the profound experiences of deep beauty, reverence, and a recognition of what is holy. Because once you really begin to look, to really see how small we are in relation to Creation—and the majesty of what we actually live within—you cannot do anything but lay down in reverence.  

And it was here that I began to really live.

It was within the experience of these first seven years that I was schooled in the art of Embrace. I had healed the mind and emotions from the misunderstandings that I carried into this life and lived out in my childhood and early adult life.  

Sarasvati began my schooling by gifting me with the experience of bonding, in the highest and most pure way, child to mother.  Over this course of time, Sarasvati and Indra helped me to plant these seeds within myself—those of embrace and forgiveness, compassion, freedom, awareness, and power.  Sarasvati showed me how to water and nurture them so that one day, the humanity within me would flower and bear fruit.  

The process that I walked with them was one of dissolution and clarification of who I believed I was.  This led me through foreign and deeply frightening territory. But along our walk together, I learned that while life can sometimes be extremely daunting, all things can be made insanely beautiful. 

Like the very best parents, they held up for me, a vision of my full potential, one that took into account who I was as a soul, living out a journey through human life; a vision that matched perfectly the deep longing in my heart.  And then they inspired me to dig deep within myself and reach for it. They guided me and gave me encouragement when I took my first steps, but with the understanding that I would walk on my own, self-empowered.  Both let me stumble and fall, sometimes very hard, but they never, ever left me. 

Most precious to me, they gave me the gift of freedom:  to understand and gain a level of mastery over my own human journey so that I could help others navigate whatever comes their way.

I remained with them for another 9 years, closely studying what I could of how and what it was that they brought to those who stood before them.  At their feet I learned in the old ways, as an apprentice learns from a master. Hands on experience with the people who sought their counsel, each with their own story, each with their own path.

Over time, I developed the ability to see the larger part of a person, their true essence, and how to utilize it to set a trajectory toward Homecoming with the Divine and into their soul’s purpose.  

Sarasvati never told me what to do or what was so; she laid at my feet, the inspiration I would need to travel over the sometimes difficult terrain to come and we used my own life experiences as the basis for my learning.  There were no books, I took no notes. In all those years, she spoke only maybe 5 directives to me, things like, Always approach someone with reverence, or, Always ask permission before approaching in healing.  The rest was given to me in the form of life-directed discovery.

Both Sarasvati and Indra laid down before me, the people and situations that would go on in much later years to demonstrate the intricate and absolute perfection in the movement of life. In a single, long stroke, they showed me how we come together as human beings in evolution, and how the individual movements fit together like pieces of a puzzle, just so, to create a larger picture. In other words, they taught me that we are, in truth, One. One glorious, exquisite movement of Creation. 

Through the long arc of my life, start to present, the realization came that what I desired as a soul was the expansion into union with all things, great and small, the glorious and the profane—not out of duty or obedience to just one aspect of what I am.  That, because I desired it so, I was given a tremendous dichotomy to hold as a child, and when the timing was right, when I had exhausted all other avenues, Sarasvati was waiting to deliver me into everything my heart desired.  

Like a true Mother, she gave to me endlessly, and without cost, all that I needed not just to come to blessed peace but to greatly expand the potential and possibility of this life.

It was in those years that I was given everything I needed, through experience and journey, to forge my own mastery.  This gave me the ability to birth into the world, a specific ray of the numerous gifts they brought, applied to the human experience, and make beauty so far beyond what I ever believed possible.

It is through all this that I have come to know, with great certainty and astonishment, that in life, all is given.

There can be no other way.

The last time I met with Sarasvati in person, we spent our final moments together in such sweetness.  We joked together and laughed.  She kissed my two babies. Finally, I was empty of questions, empty of misunderstanding, empty of need. 

The tears that flowed from my eyes were ones of gratitude for my life, for my husband, my children, and the family we'd created with our Mastery Circle.  I thanked her for all she'd given me. 

"I told you in the beginning that it would all work out alright," she retorted playfully and we laughed again, through the veil of my tears.

As I wept this one last time in Sarasvati's embrace, I did so in the beauty of deep friendship.  Between us was the road we'd travelled together over the years: the awakening, the healing, our Union as we held open the gates to Homecoming for any who would partake. 

Sarasvati stood on one side of the bridge, holding the Divine.  And I, through all my limitation and seeming imperfection standing on the other end, holding the Human Being, grounding what she brought into physical reality as we met with people one-on-one and in groups that we traveled to be with.  

And as this chapter of my life came to its luxurious close, I felt no pain of separation as I walked away from the physical presence of her and into the living of my life. 

There was no pain in our parting for the Truth of the Mother had been written forever on my soul.  She had never left me, nor would she ever.  She simply cannot.

For we are all One.

The idea for Warrioress I AM came after I’d had a handful of years on my own, living out the human experience of marriage, children and career. 

Just like everyone else I knew, I was swept up in a faster pace of life and with more moving pieces than any of us knew what to do with. And during those years, the world seemed to be devolving into something that we mothers had to mostly just make note of for another day—and just keep going in order to get everything done that was needed for our families.  

Even though I had experienced so many years of intense beauty and meaning just a few years before, I found that it was becoming more and more difficult to touch it anymore as I deepened my engagement with family and career, and the world became noisy with unhappiness and fear. 

So I did what I had learned to do over all those many years of seeking—I began to call for answers.

Once again, my desire pulled from the universe and the Mother very quickly laid the path.  I found myself in the audience of an enlightened master, Sadhguru.  The difference between an enlightened master such as he and entities like Sarasvati and Indra, is that an enlightened master is an embodied human being.  Simply put, he is a real person.

There was always an element of doubt within me that thought that what Sarasvati and Indra brought was not entirely possible for us.  That doubt existed because they were wholly of the divine, in other words, were not incarnate human beings, and so existed without the hardship and complication of karma.  I mean, it's one thing to say you are divine, and it is another thing entirely to actually be  that inside a human life.    

But there he was, Sadhguru, an example of a fully actualized human being, standing right in front of me.

What should have been a joyous moment was instead riddled with that same suspicion and curiosity that I'd felt when I first met Sarasvati.  She came to me in an undeniable way right then and assured me in no uncertain terms that I was safe, that it was given, and when had she ever led me astray?  She bid me to simply experience  the gift laid before me.  So I pushed my doubt aside, just a little, and opened up to receive.

When I sat in his audience, what burned within me were two very large, undeniable things:  a wholly complete certainty of desire to serve the world and the searing longing to see freedom dance within humanity across the planet.  For the next 2 days while everyone around me was studiously learning the first Kriya he gave, I sat on my mat shamelessly weeping with that desire.

I still was not entirely sure of Sadhguru, but I continued my study and practice of Kriya with him.  And then one day, I felt it—that state, that up to that point, I had only ever felt in the full, physical presence of Sarasvati.  Except now, I was feeling it in his realm.

And in an instant, the barrier of doubt I held up in protection and suspicion, vanished.

I spent an intense 5 years of single pointed focus of Kriya with Sadhguru.  And while it continues to bear an immense amount of fruit, I stepped to the side of that pathway because the next piece of the journey presented itself to me and was pushing it's way forward in a big way.

What might surprise you is that although my experience of Sarasvati and Indra was everything to me, I never spoke of it to anyone outside of the people that came to see them.  Not my family nor even my closest friends. Not even clients that came to see me.  I didn’t want to have to do a lot of explaining or even defending against how impossible it all seemed.  Plus, it is a difficult thing to articulate. Even here in this very long story, I have laid out only the tiniest tip of the iceberg.    

After completing Kriya one day, the thought of an old friend stole into my mind.  What was odd about it was the deep and pervasive feeling of sisterhood that came along with the thought of her.  It was odd because we'd not spoken in 10 years.  And even when we had spent time together, it wasn't that deeply, even though she had an equally intimate relationship with Sarasvati and Indra.

What we kicked off when we reconnected was something that neither of us saw coming.  In our conversations and remembrances of Sarasvati and Indra, the flame of desire whooshed through our lives for answers.  Answers to all we were living.  Answers to how we might assist others.  Answers to how the spiritual relates to the physical world. 

We pulled heavily from the unseen, as we'd both been taught to do, and we began to explore all the things that mattered to us and how to approach the types of challenges we faced in our lives and the lives of the people we worked with—but from an entirely integrated physical-spiritual point of view. 

Whole worlds of possibility exploded in our lives.  We spent thousands of hours on the phone together, excitedly exploring new territory and trying to make sense and order of everything we held.  And in this way, we helped each other midwife our purpose as we walked closer and closer to it.

One day as I was doing some writing, an idea popped into my head of the rise of the Divine Feminine.  In my mind’s eye, I saw a beautiful vision of Women all over the globe rising up as the Mother—as Light—and I just burst into tears, right there in the middle of Starbucks on a busy Saturday afternoon.  

I was flooded with the longing to see the Mother—not just in some carefully hidden-away gatherings of women—but living and thriving and loving all over this planet.  THIS is what I burned for.  And right then and there, I knew this was my purpose. I almost had to give myself a slap on the forehead once I realized that I had been literally groomed for it for all those years. 

I’d been left with a legacy of skills and tools, firmly rooted in the wisdom of experience. I had so much material to write on and teach.  I had a robust background in marketing, sales and business strategy.   But I had no idea where to start.

As I spent time with Women, I started to see common patterns of struggle and pain that I knew could be addressed very effectively and efficiently if we organized and aligned to the Divine in some very simple ways.  I created small groups of Women in my life based on friendship or work and very quickly we created some amazing miracles of our own in helping each other to elevate life.  It was interesting to me that none of these groups of Women were particularly spiritual in nature.  They were all just good hearted Women that I knew from different places in my life.  So once again, possibility burned in my heart and mind. 

Like everything else in life, once that desire burns, the universe lays down the way at your feet.  The confluence of people and events that fell into place to get Warrioress I AM on its feet is a story for another time, but you should know just how much support there is, in the seen and the unseen, to deliver you into what your heart most deeply desires in this life.

In all of this, I wish to serve the children of this planet in the highest way that I can—by serving Women, the ones who, with just a little reframing and support, will stop at nothing to make this world a better place for them.  For within each Woman lives the Heart of the Mother, whether she bears children in this life or no.  

I serve in the tradition of Divine Mother, the Goddess Sarasvati.  It is from these years of study that I draw upon to offer you a way to rise beyond what you believe is possible in your life and for all that you Love.

I look so forward to meeting you.