How I Came to the Hearth…

I have fond memories of growing up in a home with a fireplace. Through the long, dark winters on the outskirts of Sherwood Park, the fire was always the heart of our home during those cold months—offering warmth, comfort, and a place for family to gather. Looking back now, I can see that the fireplace was where moments were shared, like Christmas Eves, family nights, and also many discussion, some disagreements, definitely teenage rebellion, but also understanding.

And so it was… and so it is now.

There was a time when I gathered women in my own home through what became The Sacred Circle of Divinely Groovy Women—an offering for clients and friends to come together and receive whatever it was they needed from the evening. To show up as they were, and go from there.

That’s not to say there was no planning involved. Quite the opposite. I loved the creating, the planning, the tending, the facilitating. Everything I brought forth was of my own creation, and I poured myself fully into it.

But over time, something began to shift.

I became increasingly aware that not everything wrapped in spiritual language is rooted in integrity. I found myself standing too close to a growing “spiritual” phenomenon—one that often blends self-serving egotism, capitalist ideology, and borrowed modalities, charging enormous sums for workshops and courses that, in my opinion, make a mockery of traditions like shamanism, witchcraft, and the deeper ancestral ways they claim to honour.

I realized I didn’t want any part of it.

The Hearth came from an evolution in thought.

I wanted something real. Something honest. Something that might be uncomfortable. Something that makes no promises to heal what ails you, nor provide all the answers, or gloss over the fact that, as a species, we are deeply disconnected—from the Earth, from each other, from spirit, from mystery, and from the unseen relationships that once helped us remember who we are.

This is not about more “shadow work,” more “womb healing,” or more “manifesting with cacao.”

This is about something far less polished… and far more necessary.

This is a journey we walk together—one that asks us to witness the state of this broken world, to act despite being uncomfortable, and to begin forging something real. To move from consumption to connection. From theatrics to presence. From seeking more… to remembering what has always been here.

Yes, it’s true—I do charge. I have bills to pay. I cover my costs and charge the bare minimum for my time.

But The Hearth was never created to build a brand.

It was created to tend a fire.