Create A Safe Space Of Nonjudgment

I love the potential that a blank piece of paper holds to change your life. I am a total stationery nerd and a paper lover. This happens when you have a fully immersive experience in aligning with your thoughts and feelings. The most important thing to remember is that you should date your entries so you can review them later, and don’t hold yourself back from the flow of your responses. Create a safe space of nonjudgment. If you need any specific ideas of where to buy a beautiful journal. What are three things that you love and appreciate about yourself? What are three things that you love and appreciate about someone else? What are four feelings that you have experienced in the last seven days and why? What are the ways in your life that you’ve had to be brave? What were some defining moments that required inner strength? How have you blamed others for how you feel? Where do you see yourself in ten years? How will embracing your own magic change and transform your life? What change would you like to see in society or the world in the next ten years? Everyone has intuitive powers. Whether they show up for you as a gut feeling or a little whisper, it’s helpful to pay attention to the signs and messages we are being sent so that we can work with that information to create a more inspired path for ourselves. I once went to get out of the passenger side of the car because there was nowhere to park during school pickup time to collect my children. I thought it was very strange, and so I paused before opening the door. I feel so grateful to have paused and listened to the voice that stopped me from being harmed. He looked like a cherub with blond curly hair.

Beyond The Blue

He had round and full cheeks as if he were painted by the great master Sandro Botticelli himself in the 1480s. The child seemed fully aware of his surroundings as he sat with a straight back on a pile of golden straw. See you when I’m ready to be born, Mummy, the boy said to me directly in a clear British accent. It was a school day, so I was eating breakfast before dashing out the door. I quickly told my mother about the dream I’d had, to which she said, Sarah Prout, you are only sixteen years old, and I’m putting you immediately on birth control pills! This brash statement spoke deeply to my mother’s faith in the prophetic nature of the dream world. She was always wired for superstition, which meant responding intuitively first and then asking questions later. Furthermore, I had no intention of becoming a mother. I wanted so badly to be a punk rock chick. My friend Kasey and I bought electric guitars and loved the idea of starting our own girl band, but it never happened. We spent so much time being rebellious, and it was incredibly fun. I used to steal my parents’ cigarettes and alcohol, ditch school very regularly, and lie about my whereabouts. My grandmother told me that being bored meant you had too much time on your hands.

Coming Up

Perhaps she was right. One day, Kasey and I decided to make a giant batch of fake vomit and deliver it to the mailboxes of the popular high school cheerleader–type girls we knew and hated in the local area. We went on a long walk armed with trash bags of this faux puke. And then I did something ridiculously stupid. I poured the leftover mixture into a community mailbox. A shopkeeper saw me do it and started to run after us, and we bolted down the street as fast as we could. It was nighttime, and we were wearing dark clothes, so, thankfully, we managed to get away. It could have been really bad if I’d gotten caught. In my mind at the time, I felt justified to do it. I felt entitled to pour fake vomit into at least three or four cheerleaders’ mailboxes. What would their parents have thought? What was I really trying to express? Why did I hate these girls so much for being normal and perfect? I was never going to be the popular girl in school, let’s put it that way. In Australia, instead of having a high school prom, we had something called a debutante ball where at sixteen years old you get presented to society.

You Can't Do That

It was a clear no thank you. If I had to classify myself as anything, I was a wannabe punk rock chick with a chip on her shoulder and a heart that just wanted to find love or at least find validation from a boy. I would do love spells that I read about in magazines. I would practice visualization techniques and even speak to the Universe to send me a boyfriend. Little did I know that seeking to love a boy instead of loving myself first was a dangerous trap to fall into. It stuck in my consciousness with a feeling I just couldn’t shake. To my surprise, it was only around five years later that I held this baby in my arms. His father had the same British accent. And when my son was two years old, he had round and full cheeks and golden curly hair just like in the dream. Did I create and manifest my experience based on the information in my dream, or did I tap into a glimpse of my predestined future? Did my son’s soul send me a message, or did I manifest his form based on the data I collected from my dreamscape? I’m not sure I will ever know. What I do know is that there is a beautiful dance between divine order and the law of attraction. It’s where your intuitive faculties intersect with the cocreation of your reality. Simply put, energy creates matter in us.