A broken microphone led to a bigger truth: I’ve been called into the alchemy belly, that messy middle where certainty dissolves and something wiser takes root. I open up about receiving help, resisting hyper‑independence, and trusting a season that looks like stillness from the outside but feels like honest, necessary change from the inside. Naming what so many feel yet rarely articulate: the split between divine feminine and masculine work when nuance goes missing. I share why I’m building ...