My name is Michelle and I am the founder of Modern Mystic-a place to commiserate, read cards and get creative.

What about me? I am an open book but here’s what stands out.

Many years ago, I remember hearing something in the sky and looking up. And when I did, my neck hurt. That sounds ridiculous, but I remember realizing why: I never looked up.

I looked straight ahead. I moved through life doing what needed to be done. My jaw was clenched, my attention was somewhere inside my own head, and I rarely stopped long enough to really notice the world around me.

Then tragedy struck my life. My soul was ripped to shreds, and the belief system I didn’t even know I had collapsed with it. Suddenly I had questions. Big ones.

What the fuck is this life about? How can we endure massive heartbreak and somehow continue living? What is the point of any of this?

I needed answers, so I started looking.

Somewhere inside all that grief, something cracked open. The wall I had built a long time ago finally gave way under confusion, anger, regret, and an unbelievable number of tears. And through that crack came this tiny ray of sunlight.

And I became curious.

I started noticing what weather did to me. I paid attention to landscapes. I started asking questions about moments, feelings, mountains, cards, coincidences, dreams, intuition and all the strange little things we usually dismiss because we’re too busy trying to get through the day.

Eventually I discovered something important: Joy didn’t have to replace grief. They could sit beside each other. And they still do.

I’m not going to tell you that I figured everything out. I haven’t. I’m still a human being trying to understand some very difficult things. But I am awake to my life in a way I wasn’t before. And that has changed everything.

These days, I think of my life as a kind of testing ground.

Essentially: “I’ve tried this and something became visible to me. Try it yourself and see what becomes visible to you.”

That’s it. I’m not interested in telling anyone how they should live or what they should believe. I’m interested in doors. Open one. See what’s inside. It’s beautiful in there.

Somehow, against all odds, I created a life I am excited about.

I experiment with different ways of paying attention—and then I find an outlet for what I discover.

I write stories and poems and whatever this kind of writing is. I read cards (my truest calling). I create scents because smell can unlock something words can’t. I make oils, flower essences, rituals, spells and atmospheres based on emotions and intentions. I take photographs. I make art even though nobody formally taught me how, because sometimes something inside me wants to become visible. I walk outside and listen to what the landscape has to say (land spirits are very real and very chatty).

And I pay attention.

That curiosity has opened doors to projects that make my heart overflow with emotions that leave me speechless. I still get butterflies over ideas. I get obsessed. I follow strange little trails. I make things. I ask questions. I find things to be excited about.

And much of that happened because I learned to listen to myself.

Unfortunately, it took an unbearable loss to knock down the wall I had built around my life. I don’t think everyone should have to wait for their world to fall apart before they begin living inside it.

So if anything I create has a message underneath it, maybe it’s this:

Look up. Pay attention. Find what excites you and follow it ruthlessly. Question the beliefs that have kept your world small. Get your head out of everyone else’s business long enough to hear what your own soul has been trying to tell you.

Walk under the moon at 3AM. Stand in a storm without an umbrella. Follow a strange idea. Photograph something not because it’s beautiful, but because you want to capture something you feel intensely. Notice what gives you butterflies. And then go toward it.

Because there is extraordinary meaning, beauty and mystery hiding inside an ordinary life. But you have to be paying attention to find it.

And if your insides don’t occasionally rumble with something feral and desirous—what’s the point? (really think about that)

And when you’re ready, come sit with me. We’ll pull some cards and see what wants to become visible. It is my honor to do so.