The Green Jag and Me - My sacred Release

How Life Has a Way of Giving You Signs 

As I parked my forest green Jag by the side of the road, surrounded by the stillness of the eastern lakes on either side, I leaned back, closed my eyes, and let go. 

It was another pause in the stormy saga with my Finnish man. Oeff.

When I opened my eyes, the emblem on the steering wheel stared back—jaw set, fierce and unyielding.

Wow. What power.

It immediately reminded me of Aries energy aligning with Saturn this week. Girl, get your boss suit on.

Gemini spring winds were swirling, shedding everything outdated. A clearing.

Then it dawned on me.

I was sitting in a green Jag. And my logo—created in April 2024—was a green jaguar. My laptop confirmed the date. I had designed this vision a year ago. And now, I was living it.

That’s when I truly understood: Life has a way of preparing you for your own empowerment. The seeds you plant bloom—exactly when they’re meant to.

This is the season we realign—values, self-worth, integrity.

This is the moment

This is the year I become the woman I was always meant to be.

No more shrinking for a man who doesn’t see me.
No more bending for ideas that don’t resonate with my soul.
This time, I choose me. My path. My purpose.

I stared at my logo again and looked up the meaning of the jaguar totem: power, resilience, top of the food chain.

Yes. That’s me.
It has to be me.

My totem had guided me here—to this place, this moment. In the green Jag, by a shimmering lake, among birches that shed their bark like I’m shedding my past.

Serendipity in full bloom.

Earlier, I’d seen the birch trees in a painting of a wise women with an ould among the birch trees, painted by a dying artist adn it was the first of his 7 paintings. I bought one gave it away and then bought another and left it there.

 That’s why Zeeland wasn’t working. I was meant to come here. To meet my soulmate. To meet myself. To heal. To let go of old illusions and karmic bondages.

After two hours of rest, music, and a bite to eat, the heavy energy melted away. I stepped out to reconnect with nature... and to pee. It’s the little things. 

My Soulsister and Me talking about sex: 

Later, after a long gravel road and away from manicured expectations, I met an Airbnb hostess who welcomed me like a long-lost sister. Within minutes, we were talking Finnish men, sex as exploration, and how her house—now for sale—once held space for her family of eight, including foster children.

I felt it. That grounded, nurturing, commanding feminine power. The kind that says:
Now is the time. Make your own choices.

I set up my laptop on her large oak dinner table—weathered and beautiful—and got to work. Later, I paused for a luxurious bath in her vintage-style tub, under a rain shower beside a stone sauna made for eight.

She told me her story: 58, post-divorce, a social worker, Camino pilgrim, walking 30K tomorrow. She discovered her sexuality late, thanked every man who taught her what she liked, and finally said: enough. She now knows what she wants.

Thank you, God.

I wonder, Have I found my "special One"... in God? 

Have I found my special One… in God?

Can I finally say: I did the sex thing. I’ve explored it. And honestly? It doesn’t excite me—
it never really has.

Can I finally say it?

Sex never really excited me—not in the way people talk about.

I think I was always more aware of the man’s energy than of my own desire.
That was the ride: tuning into his pleasure, his intensity, his need to conquer or consume.
And in doing so, I abandoned myself.

But no more.

Now, I choose to be deeply present with my own energy.

My divine self deserves to be felt, honored, lived. 

But now, I’m choosing me.

My divine self.
My sovereignty.

Maybe tantra is still a path to explore—where energy flows both ways, sacred and equal.
My current man pleases me sexually. I could want more. But this time, I owe it to God, and to the world, to honour who I truly am first.

I’m done performing.
I don’t need to please the power yielder anymore.
I am a self-made woman.

Yesterday I earned my own wages when helping a geriatric patient.
I launched Airbnb listings in multiple countries.
I moved through my day with grace and craft.

This time, I’m not shrinking.
This time, I rise.

But in the bath, talking to God—my bestie—we agreed:

Patience. Perseverance. Purpose.

And for now, that is more than enough.