the world is on fire
Hello, animal lovers,
I am writing to you on Thursday, Jan 23, 2025. The energy feels heavy. The world is on fire—both figuratively and literally. I am personally going through a very intense healing process (read: awful flu). During this time, I haven’t been meditating or talking to animals as much as usual, which is understandable. Yet, that’s all I want to do these days. I have a deep yearning to sit in meditation when the outside world feels like too much—too chaotic, too anxious. And even if you aren’t actively reading energy, I have no doubt you can feel it, too.
Presently, I am working a “stable” government job that offers security and benefits, yet it is becoming painfully clear that I am not suited for this environment. At every turn, I feel myself wilting. I know it’s time for (another) big change, but my life has been full of them, and I’d really like to just sit back and coast for a while. Yet, Spirit has other ideas for me this year. The plan is being revealed in a slow, painful, yet somehow not entirely unpleasant way.
I can no longer sit idle while ideas swim in my head with no action taken. I am working through a lot of childhood trauma—something about my late 40s has brought everything to a full stop. I’m evaluating all of my actions, choices, and decisions with an eagle eye. I am no longer asleep in my own life. When I do (or don’t do) something, I am discovering why. I am determined to break generational curses and trauma. I carry this burden with pride (or is it a stiff upper lip?), though it has been a tough road. I am estranged from most of my family—not all, but most. Interestingly, though, I am very close with my family on the other side. My ancestors are always there, guiding me and cheering me on. They remind me of my farming roots, my connection to the land, and a call to an easier, simpler time.
In my future, I absolutely see a small cabin on as many acres as we desire, surrounded by dense trees that keep me safe from the outside world. I see many rescue farm animals on the property. I see us growing our own food as best we can. I see this parallel life, and I want to skip everything and jump straight to that timeline. My ego whispers, “Oh honey, you’re almost 50—the best years of your life are over.” Yet my spirit knows, with certainty, that nothing is ever over. Even when my human body gives out, I will go on and on forever. The lessons will never stop—of this, I am sure.
The most recent lesson I’d like to share is this: A few issues surfaced that I didn’t know how to handle, so I decided to seek counseling for support. I’ve been in therapy before but never had the right person to walk with me through everything. I found a therapist locally, but I was incredibly let down when I went to my first appointment and quickly realized it was not a fit. I sat with it for a while. My ego said, “Oh, f** that—we are not doing this again.”* I dug my heels in.
Then, a friend gently reminded me that finding the right therapist could be life-changing. I didn’t let too much time pass before I reached out to another person—this time, for a consultation rather than a full appointment. I hadn’t realized you could interview your therapist ahead of time. That would save everyone a headache!
As I reflected on my knee-jerk reaction to never try therapy again, I started to pick apart my mindset, my thoughts, and where that voice was coming from—the voice that was encouraging me to give up and flip everyone the bird. The one that felt disempowered simply because one therapist wasn’t the right fit. Ahhh… hello, daddy drama. This is exactly what I’ve seen my father do his entire life. Why even try? Life sucks—a s** sandwich anyway. Ain’t nothing you can do.*
But I reject this.
My children are watching. If I won’t do it for myself, I will at least do it for them—so that when they enter their late 40s, their experience will be different.
As I filled out the form to request a consultation, I acknowledged my scared inner child and my angry teenage self. I see you. I love you. I’m sorry. I promise to keep us safe. I am learning, quite simply, to trust myself again. A long time ago, I was taught not to trust myself. But now, finally—blessedly—I am reclaiming that inherent right. To trust myself. To feel confident in my decisions without needing outside validation.
At first, I was angry that I didn’t stop the therapist when she bombarded me with too many questions and zero feedback or emotion—even as I sat there sobbing. But then, I realized: I didn’t go to the second appointment. That is something! I fired her after one session. In the past, I probably would’ve gone back a few times, convinced the problem was me and not her. But this time, I saw the red flags—no green ones in sight. And honestly? That alone feels like a huge win, my friends.
I’m sharing this because it feels right. I want to be transparent. I think the online world is full of so much bullshit. I am hungry for real, genuine connection, and I think you are, too. I am ready for less fluff and more depth. I’m so ready for an overhaul that I even took down my Instagram account—the one I created over a decade ago. The energy there wasn’t right. It tethered me to a person I no longer am.
Yet, at the same time, I miss the people I’ve followed forever and ever. Which, in and of itself, is just… well, weird. I’ve never even met most of them in real life. As I scrolled through the 850 or so people who followed me, I was disturbed by some of the darker accounts I found—porn, spam, people selling things, accounts I had already removed before. Moving forward, I will be much more intentional with what I share and consume on social media.
I let Facebook go years ago, and I am not exaggerating when I say it was extremely healing and expansive. Right now, I won’t lie—I miss my online “friends” a lot. But that account no longer aligned with my mission, so it had to go. And I stand by that. Even if it stings a little.
I’ve started a new account dedicated to Soulful Tails. I’ll be sharing primarily animal and tree communication content there—along with anything else that feels relevant. What I won’t be doing is trying to impress you, trying to show you how great my life is, or pretending I have it all together.
If you’ve read this far, thank you.
I’d be honored if you followed me on IG: @soulfultails_byemily
For the animals,
Emily
