The Journal Prompt That Changed My Creative Life

Imagine asking that on a first date or to a new friend. It’s giving, she’s been through a few healing eras, huh?

The prompt found me again this week. It’s been sitting on my altar ever since, staring back at me while I write this.

I have a dedicated walk-in closet in our guest bedroom that I’ve converted into a cozy space for client work. It’s quiet, the light is warm and dim, and when I enter, shut the door, and settle into my comfy desk chair, my body registers that we’re about to do some of our most connected work. All in a modest little closet.

I have my microphone set up, which I yap into as I guide.

In front of me is a shelf that holds my altar. It has notes from clients and former tarot students, a photo of my inner child, a piece of watercolor art I thrifted, a photo of my great-grandmother, candles, crystals, a copy of my book (no shame), and more little trinkets. There’s another shelf above it that holds all of my tarot and oracle decks.

At the start of each week, I pull one tarot card (it would be weird if I didn’t, no?), and the second comes from a deck called Practice You. It holds somatic, embodied prompts, so while I think of the tarot card as revealing the what of the week’s energy, this second card helps me understand the how. How I’ll move with it. How I’ll embody it. How I’ll practice it.

The deck was created by a teacher and writer whose work changed me, honestly. That writer is Elena Brower, and the deck (as well as the accompanying journal) is in my belief, channeled.

As a renowned teacher and writer, she has no idea who I am.

Elena has no idea I took her yoga class in Los Angeles in 2018 when she was visiting for a workshop and didn’t then talked about it for weeks. Or that I’ve purchased her journal four separate times over the years because I fill it and immediately want another.

She has no idea this exact deck traveled with me to Sicily when I taught one of my first-ever yoga retreats back in 2019.

Evidence below:

And I think there’s something incredibly beautiful about recognizing a teacher who shaped you in ways they’ll likely never know. That’s the power of creating good work with good intention. It continues traveling long after you’ve finished making it.

The same card I’ve pulled countless times over the years. The same one I’ve journaled on, meditated with, cried over, and returned to whenever Spirit seems determined to get my attention.

It reminds me why I write (or meditate) in the first place. It reminds me what channeled writing has always meant to me, and how different it feels when the words aren’t something I’m manufacturing, but something I’m truly receiving. I consider it when Self and Spirit meet somewhere in the middle and I become the person willing to write it all down.

I’m sharing the actual prompt, yes, but also what channeled writing feels like in the body, how I’ve learned to recognize when I’m writing from that place, and how this single card is directing my week (life) right now—with paid subscribers.