Philomena Petersen

Let me tell you about the kind of spiritual upgrade they   don’t   write about in the wellness books. It started with a nap I never fully took. The kind where your body is trying to shut down, your eyes are sealed shut by some kind of divine override, but your phone won't stop glitch-calling you with numbers from a past life—literally, my   old   number was lighting up like a haunted hotline. Finally, I managed to let go—physically. My stomach, bloated from cosmic stagnation and unprocessed downloads, released something so massive it blocked the toilet. That’s right. Blocked. The spiritual constipation was   literal . Cue my old phone buzzing again. Cue the financial news tanking harder than my motivation. Cue my uterus deciding,   "Oh hey, you know what would make this more intense? Bleeding." That’s when I officially upgraded from "spiritually drained" to   ZOMBIFIED . With Limp Bizkit's "Take a Look Around" blasting through my speakers, I looked...

  🌙 🌌 🌀 I had one of   those   dreams  The kind that lingers, layered in symbols and half-sentences. Frogs, hospitals, elevators, plantain chips. I was searching for documents with coworkers and a young intern. My ex-husband appeared, short on money. There was excitement and confusion, a feeling of being close to something, but not quite there. Then a friend’s phone   pocket-called   me and woke me up mid-dream. Later she said, “Oh, you’re up early!”; and I laughed because she knows I’m   not   a morning person. But maybe that call was the universe’s way of saying:   bring it back now… and reflect. Here’s what the dream showed me and how it mirrors my life right now, just days before a major meeting about my future. 🐸 Frogs in the Hallways There were frogs everywhere, inside a building, not just outside in nature. That’s how it feels in real life: transformation crawling through every corner. Frogs are liminal beings, always between one e...

When people ask why I don’t have stacks of my own books sitting at home, or why my printed books aren’t available everywhere — I want to tell them the whole story. So here it is. 📦 The Truth About Stocking Books In the past, I ordered boxes of my own books. I thought it was what authors were “supposed” to do. Have copies ready to sell. Be professional. Be prepared. But what really happened? I got stuck with them. Books sitting in boxes. In corners. In closets. And slowly... the energy got heavy. Because my books aren’t just “products.” They’re pieces of me. Reflections. Energy I’ve shaped and shared through deep experiences. Holding them without movement began to feel like keeping stories trapped instead of shared. So I chose something different. I chose to let them live online — where they can travel freely, be downloaded, be printed, and reach the hands and hearts they’re meant to reach. 🌍 The Invisible Limitations of KDP And here’s what most people don’t know about self-publishing...

  There’s a strange kind of energy that settles in just before something big, not the moment itself, but the   space right before it . That’s where I am now. Waiting. Wishing. And not knowing yet. A meeting was scheduled weeks ago, the kind where authorities will decide something about my future. Since then, I’ve been living in that in-between. Doing what I can to rebuild my energy, tend to my soul, and balance the everyday demands of life. It’s a delicate space. not quite stable, not quite chaotic. Just... unfolding. 🌀 When You’ve Done All You Can (And Still Don’t Know) There’s a deep vulnerability in not having control. I’ve taken steps. Organized what needed organizing. Strengthened what could be strengthened. But there’s still a silence that stretches between me and the outcome. I used to think waiting meant passivity. Now I see it as a kind of strength. It’s   holding yourself with care   in a space where nothing is certain. 🌕 The Wishing Part I wish for clari...

 There’s something I’ve recently become aware of— Not just about how I  see  the world... But about how I  sound  when I speak the truth. When I’m in full clarity When something lands in my body as undeniable My voice changes. It sharpens. It gets louder. It feels firm. I don’t plan it. I don’t raise my voice to dominate. It’s just how my truth comes through. But I’ve now realized… That truth tone can  feel  like judgment. Especially to those who are fragile, uncertain, Or holding onto something they’re afraid to face. Today, my friend called me again. She needed clarity. She was stuck in something painful. And like so many times before, I reflected what I saw Not to tell her what to do, But to give her choice. I asked: “How would you feel if it was you?” “What will happen inside you if you choose this path... or the other?” “What weight will you carry later if you follow fear, not truth?” I didn’t mean to raise my voice. But she felt it. And it hurt h...

In this post, I reflect on creating three spiritual videos in one week using voiceover and intuition, without pressure.   I never imagined I’d be able to do this. VoiceOver … it sounded technical, complicated, like something for people with equipment, experience, and endless patience. But then I started to play. With voices, with pauses, with nuances. And the Universe became my co-creator. It started with one little video idea. And suddenly I had made   three voiceover videos in one week,  each with its own vibe, its own gods, its own cosmic chaos, and a wink of humor. Not because I pushed myself. Quite the opposite. I listened. I followed the rhythm. I took breaks. And that’s when the magic started to show itself. I discovered how   one extra letter could shift the energy of a word. How   a pause could land like a punchline. How   my own words , in my own rhythm, actually carried a power I didn’t expect. And I had fun while doing it. Real fun. “When I crea...

  This reflection is part of a deeper shift I shared recently in: “When I Speak My Truth, My Voice Changes — And That Can Be Hard to Hear.” There’s something I’ve had to face about myself lately And it’s this: When I speak truth, my voice changes. It sharpens. It cuts through softly layered emotions. It doesn’t come to cuddle It comes to clarify. And I’ve noticed that this shift in my tone… Can be misread. By those closest to me. Even by people who’ve trusted me deeply for a long time. They feel judged. Or scolded. Or like I’ve turned into someone colder than I used to be. But that’s not what’s happening. What’s happening is: I’m tired of whispering the same reflection To people who don’t truly want to see it yet. I’ve realized that people come to me when I’m in my reflective state When I’m quiet. Still. Deeply tuned in. They bring their emotional storms, their loops, their pain Because I hold space in a way that makes them feel seen. But they often come… Not to listen, But to be h...

 There’s something I’ve recently become aware of Not just about how I  see  the world… But about how I  sound  when I speak the truth. When I’m in full clarity When something lands in my body as undeniable My voice changes. It sharpens. It gets louder. It feels firm. I don’t plan it. I don’t raise my voice to dominate. It’s just how my truth comes through. But I’ve now realized... That truth tone can  feel  like judgment. Especially to those who are already fragile, uncertain, Or holding onto something they’re afraid to face. Today, my friend called me again. She needed clarity. She was stuck in something painful. And like so many times before, I reflected what I saw Not to tell her what to do, But to give her choice. I said: “How would you feel if it was you?” “What will happen inside you if you choose this path… or the other?” “What weight will you carry later if you follow fear, not truth?” I didn’t mean to raise my voice. But she felt it. And it hu...

 Something is shifting in my writing. If you’ve followed me for a while, you might sense it too. The tone. The rhythm. The place it comes from. It’s less poetic sometimes. Less abstract. And more… embodied. For a long time, I wrote from a place of  searching . From deep emotional processing. From wounds still bleeding and truths still forming. Back then, my words wrapped around feelings like smoke Soft, indirect, sometimes scattered. Not because I was unsure of my truth, But because I wasn’t always ready to stand in it. But something’s different now. I’m not just reflecting anymore. I’m  embodying . These days, my words come sharper. Cleaner. More direct. Not out of anger. Not out of a need for validation. But because I finally believe what I’m saying. That can be triggering For others, and even for me. Because when a soft voice suddenly becomes clear… It forces people to listen differently. I’ve noticed that in my relationships too. The people closest to me sometimes fli...

 I’m not a loud voice in the online space. But I create deeply, honestly, and in my own time. You’ll find my books, my Reflector Moments videos, and my quiet offerings here. I don’t post every day. I don’t chase trends. But when I share, it’s because something  true  has taken shape. If it resonates with you, stay connected. If not, I wish you softness on your path. People often ask: “Where can I follow your work?” And my honest answer is:  Here , if you feel called. I’m not here to chase attention. I’m not trying to convince anyone to stay. But if my words meet you in a moment where you need them, then I welcome you. You’ll find: My books. My videos. My reflections. Sometimes I’ll post. Sometimes I’ll go silent again. It all depends on the rhythm of my soul, Not the pressure of the world. I’m building something slow and honest. And if that speaks to you, Then we’re already connected, even if we never speak. Thank you for being one of the quiet ones who understands t...

 One of the ways I’ve learned to love people better… is by giving them space. No pressure. No expectations. Just truth. I don’t need long conversations to feel connection. Sometimes five minutes can heal more than five hours. I don’t want people to feel guilty for needing time I just need to know how to show up, so I can meet them in the moment they’re ready. This is how I hold space for others. And it’s how I wish to be held too. I’ve realized I’m not the kind of person who needs people to  perform  connection. I just need  real  connection Even if it’s rare. Even if it’s quiet. And I know I’m not alone in that. So if you’ve ever felt guilty for needing space... Or pressured to keep showing up when your soul needs rest Your pace is valid. Your silence is not rejection. Your short bursts of presence are enough when they come from the heart. Let’s stop pretending we’re not carrying too much. Let’s make new agreements that honor the truth For ourselves, And for th...