Witchy Woman

Artemis who doesn’t hunt animals anymore (humans do it enough) She now walks in clubs looking to hunt the real animal

Athena who donates hundreds of books to local libraries and schools

Apollo who watches all street musicians hoping their talents can get them a little money (He gives more than a little)

Dionysus who watches over everyone’s drinks at the bar making sure they stay safe

Zeus who makes it rain for the couples that just want to frolic and dance and kiss in the rain

Hera who donates to woman’s and SA survivors shelters

Ares who is at the forefront of every protest because those are battles too

Hestia who holds and keeps thousands of secrets so the ones who whispered them into flame don’t have to

Hades who let’s families get one last goodbye to a loved one before they die

Persephone who personally makes sure that the ones taken too early feel safe and secure in the Underworld

Demeter who gives Her best crops to food banks and homeless shelters

Hecate who is a street magician and does actual magical for the kids

Poseidon who finds the best seashells and leaves them on the beach for someone to find and treasure

From Old English to Modern English in One Monologue – how long does it take you to start understanding what’s being said?

All stories should have more disabled people, honestly, because disability is a basic part of being alive! What am I supposed to think of any given fictional community if I never see any elderly people, any retired people, any injured people, or any disabled people?

Few works in contemporary spiritual literature have exerted the enduring influence of Power vs. Force, the seminal text by David R. Hawkins. Since its publication in the mid-1990s, the book has shaped how countless readers understand consciousness, morality, and the dynamics of personal and collective power. Its core thesis—that truth possesses an intrinsic, self-sustaining power vastly superior to coercion, fear, and egoic force—offered a moral and spiritual compass at a time when such clarity felt urgently needed. Yet spiritual understanding, like consciousness itself, evolves. While Power vs. Force remains foundational, its framework reflects the concerns and assumptions of its era. In contrast, Book of Light: Transforming Shadow, Suffering, and Self arises from a later and more psychologically nuanced moment—one informed by trauma theory, developmental psychology, somatic awareness, and post-nondual inquiry. Together, these works illuminate not a contradiction, but a progression: from mapping consciousness to inhabiting it; from transcendence to integration; from hierarchy to wholeness. The Promise and Limits of Mapping Consciousness Hawkins’ Map of Consciousness offered something rare in spiritual discourse: apparent objectivity. Emotions, beliefs, institutions, and even historical figures were assigned calibrated numerical values, locating them on a scale ranging from shame and guilt to enlightenment. The distinction between force and power—between egoic striving and truth-aligned presence—provided readers with a compelling interpretive lens through which to understand both personal suffering and global conflict. For many, this framework was liberating. It reframed inner turmoil not as personal failure, but as a temporary residence within identifiable states of awareness. It suggested that alignment with truth, rather than effort or domination, was the true engine of transformation. In a culture saturated with force—political, psychological, and relational—this insight was revolutionary. Yet the very act of mapping consciousness introduces an implicit hierarchy. While useful for orientation, hierarchies carry shadow. Emotional states such as fear, grief, rage, and shame risk being interpreted not as intelligible human responses to lived experience, but as indicators of inferiority or spiritual deficiency. The subtle danger is not intellectual error, but avoidance: the impulse to transcend what remains unresolved. From Transcendence to Integration Book of Light enters precisely where hierarchical spirituality begins to fracture. Rather than ranking states of consciousness, it asks how those states come into being. Ego is not treated as a moral failing or energetic liability, but as a developmental adaptation—formed through early relational experiences, unmet needs, and the nervous system’s attempt to maintain coherence under stress. In this framework, shadow is not something to be eliminated, nor an obstacle to awakening, but the residue of unintegrated experience. What Hawkins might classify as lower-level states, Book of Light understands as fragments of consciousness that have been split off in order to survive. The work of awakening, therefore, is not escape, but return. This represents a shift from transcendence to integration. Where Power vs. Force emphasises surrender as release from egoic attachment, Book of Light reframes surrender as the willingness to remain present with what has been exiled. Liberation is not achieved by rising above the shadow, but by metabolising it—by allowing the nervous system, psyche, and awareness itself to complete unfinished movements of feeling and meaning. Truth Beyond Measurement

One of the most debated aspects of Hawkins’ work is his use of applied kinesiology as a means of discerning truth. While compelling to some, this approach places truth in an externalised framework: something that can be tested, verified, and ranked independently of relational context. The authority of truth, in this view, rests on measurement. Book of Light quietly dissolves this assumption. Truth, here, is not a proposition to be tested but a quality of presence. It emerges through intimacy with experience rather than evaluation of it. The question is no longer “Is this true or false?” but “What remains when resistance ceases?” Truth reveals itself not through muscular response, but through coherence—through the felt sense of alignment that arises when nothing is being avoided. This does not reject Hawkins’ insistence on truth; it radicalises it. Truth is not something consciousness points toward from a distance. It is what consciousness becomes when fragmentation resolves. Power, Force, and the Psychology of Shadow Hawkins’ distinction between force and power remains one of the most elegant contributions to modern spiritual thought. Force is compulsive, reactive, and extractive. Power is generative, stable, and inherently benevolent. Yet Power vs. Force rarely examines how force is psychologically produced within the individual. Egoic reactivity is identified, but its origins are left largely unexplored. Book of Light fills this gap. Force, in this later framework, is the behavioural expression of unintegrated shadow. What is denied seeks expression; what is repressed returns as compulsion; what is unacknowledged becomes projected. Power does not emerge simply by aligning with higher states, but by reclaiming disowned parts of experience. When shadow is integrated, force dissolves naturally—not through suppression, but through understanding. This psychological grounding renders spiritual maturity less performative and more embodied. Awakening ceases to be an identity and becomes a process of ongoing integration. Collective Implications: From Enlightenment to Healing Both texts recognise that individual consciousness shapes collective reality. Hawkins famously argued that a relatively small number of individuals operating from high levels of consciousness could counterbalance vast amounts of societal force. This remains a powerful idea. Book of Light does not refute this, but reframes how collective change occurs. Rather than relying on hierarchical enlightenment, it emphasises the cumulative effect of widespread shadow integration—particularly intergenerational and systemic trauma. Unintegrated patterns do not disappear; they replicate themselves through institutions, ideologies, and relationships. Collective evolution, therefore, depends not only on elevated awareness, but on the willingness to face inherited pain. In this sense, Book of Light speaks directly to the psychological conditions of the present moment—polarisation, identity fragmentation, and the resurgence of coercive force in social discourse. The work suggests that consciousness evolves not only upward, but inward. An Evolution, Not a Rejection Seen together, Power vs. Force and Book of Light form an arc rather than a dichotomy. Hawkins mapped the terrain and named its fundamental law: truth outweighs force. Holmer steps into that terrain and asks what must be integrated for truth to be lived rather than idealised. If Power vs. Force articulated awakening as alignment with higher consciousness, Book of Light articulates awakening as wholeness. Force cannot defeat force. But neither can light bypass shadow. What is rejected returns as force.

What is integrated becomes light.

—⭐️—

Aries 7th House You attract lovers who compete with you instead of protect you. They mirror your need to dominate love rather than surrender to it. The partner meant for you is calm but firm, someone who sees your fire and steadies it without dimming it.

Taurus 7th House You fall for those who take without giving, who make you earn affection. They mirror your fear that love must be proven. The right partner gives consistency freely and reminds you love is safe when you stop begging for it.

Gemini 7th House You attract charmers who talk in circles and disappear when things get real. They mirror your fear of emotional stillness. The one meant for you listens more than they speak and helps you feel seen through silence, not distraction.

Cancer 7th House You chase wounded souls who need mothering. They mirror your fear that being needed equals being loved. The real match makes you feel safe without draining you and nurtures you back instead of keeping you empty.

Leo 7th House You choose those who steal your spotlight or feed off your light. They mirror your hidden fear that you must perform for attention. The true partner admires your shine without competing and helps you feel adored when no one is watching.

Virgo 7th House You attract people you must fix. They mirror your own belief that love must be earned through service. The right one accepts your flaws and teaches that intimacy isn’t built through perfection but through acceptance.

Libra 7th House You fall for takers who use your softness as leverage. They mirror your fear of being alone. The one meant for you meets your energy, communicates clearly, and values peace without making you disappear.

Scorpio 7th House You choose chaotic, possessive lovers who awaken obsession over connection. They mirror your fear of losing control. The real partner makes you feel safe enough to surrender without disappearing into them.

Sagittarius 7th House You chase the free spirit who won’t stay. They mirror your fear of commitment and intimacy. The right one makes freedom feel like home, showing you that growth can happen inside devotion too.

Capricorn 7th House You attract emotionally unavailable people who make you work for closeness. They mirror your fear that love is something you must earn. The true one shows up consistently and teaches softness is not weakness.

Aquarius 7th House You fall for distant, cold lovers who intellectualize emotions. They mirror your fear of being truly seen. The right person helps you open emotionally and stays when the walls fall.

Gemini IC

You get nervous when everything’s quiet or the same for too long. Your mind’s always jumping, needing new things to chew on. If no one’s talking or moving, your brain gets stuck in a loop and you get on edge. You feel okay when things switch up, people joke or share stuff. You don’t trust long silences or feeling stuck. Your safe zone is noisy, fast, and full of stuff to think about. If things slow down, your nerves light up like a fire.

Libra IC

You feel safe when people around you aren’t fighting or yelling. When there’s tension, your body locks up fast. You want things calm and fair, even if they’re not perfect. You feel better when no one’s pushing or pulling too hard. You need folks to listen to both sides or you can’t relax. When stuff’s uneven or unfair, your brain goes on edge. Peace, even if it’s shaky, makes you breathe easier.

Taurus IC

Safety for you is when things don’t change too fast, like same food, same bed, same people showing up. When stuff flips or gets loud, your body locks up like it’s ready for a fight. You trust people who keep their word and don’t disappear on you. Your safe place is steady, quiet, and you can touch it or feel it. Anything shaky or fast-moving makes your nerves scream. You need slow and real, or you feel like falling.

Virgo IC

You feel safe when stuff isn’t messy or broken. When things get out of place, your body tightens and you start worrying. You like fixing problems because it makes you feel like things won’t fall apart. You want things to make sense or you feel lost. Your brain calms when you know what’s coming next. If stuff’s wild or confusing, you get tense. You trust steady, quiet, and clean, not chaos.

Capricorn IC

You feel safe when things happen slow and steady and you can see progress. Quick changes or chaos make your body tense. You want people who do what they say and don’t make empty promises. Your safe place is serious, with rules you can count on. If stuff feels shaky or wild, your nerves spike. You calm down when things build bit by bit. You grew up learning slow and steady keeps you alive.

Pisces IC

You feel safe when you can hide out, daydream, or float away from the harsh world. Loud or rough stuff makes your body tense. You want soft voices and kind people around. You don’t trust tough words or people pushing you to be tough. You need to feel feelings without explaining them. Your brain calms when you’re allowed to just drift. Harshness or rules make your nerves spike.

Cancer IC

You feel safe when someone’s soft with you like they’re watching your back without being pushy about it. You want the kind of care that feels like a blanket on a cold day. When people act cold or don’t notice how you’re feeling, your body tenses and you want to hide. You trust people who check on you without asking too much. You need familiar smells, sounds, or routines to calm down. Your safe space is warm and quiet, not harsh or loud.

Aries IC

You feel safe when you can just do your thing fast, without people telling you to chill or wait. If someone holds you back, your whole body gets tense like you’re about to explode. You need folks who don’t play games or waste time. Quick, honest talk makes you breathe easier. When you’re stuck or can’t move, your brain freaks. You need that space to act or fight or run, or you feel trapped and wired.

Leo IC

You feel better when people look at you and make you feel like you matter. When folks ignore you or treat you like nothing, your whole body tightens up. You want to show off a little, be loud, get some praise. You need people who cheer you on without putting you down. When no one’s paying attention, your brain feels empty and restless. Being seen and liked is your safety net. If you don’t get it, you feel invisible and shaky.

Scorpio IC

You trust only a few people, and you keep your guard up. If someone breaks that trust or pushes you to share before you’re ready, your body freezes or tightens. You want your space and secrets protected. You don’t like fake feelings or small talk. Your safe zone is dark and private, not loud or crowded. You need loyalty or you feel vulnerable and tense. Your brain says trust is life or death.

Aquarius IC

You feel safe when you can be yourself, even if you’re weird or different. You want people to leave you alone when you need it. Crowds or close feelings make your body jumpy. You don’t trust fake smiles or people who push you to open up. You calm down when you have space to think or be by yourself. Your brain learned to protect itself by staying a little apart. If you get forced to fit in, your nerves freak.

Sagittarius IC

Tara Brach