Science feels like a lifelong refusal to accept that reality is as flat as people keep trying to make it.
I don’t approach science like a lab coat with a clipboard. I approach it like someone peeking behind the curtain of existence saying, “Okay, but what is really going on here?”
My science-wonder has always had a few strong flavors:
I love the invisible becoming visible.
Energy, frequency, light, vibration, the body’s electrical signals, structured water, plant intelligence, consciousness, astrology patterns, the nervous system, the cosmos, I’m drawn to anything that suggests there is more happening beneath the surface than people admit. Not in a “believe everything shiny” way, but in a “why are we pretending this isn’t fascinating?” way.
I use science as a bridge between the mystical and the practical.
That’s one of my clearest threads. I don’t want spirituality floating around ungrounded in incense smoke. I want the roots. The mechanism. The current under the ritual. When I talk about chakras, colors, water, food, energy, plants, astrology, or consciousness, I’m often trying to connect the sacred feeling to a living system. I’m asking: How does spirit move through matter?
I’m fascinated by the body as a living instrument.
My daily chakra-color practice, structured water rituals, essential oils, food choices, breath, nervous-system regulation, movement, sunlight, plant medicine, all of that shows that I don’t see the body as a meat suit dragging me through errands. I see it as a receiver, transmitter, garden, antenna, temple, and slightly dramatic roommate all in one.
I love the science that makes the world feel enchanted again.
Not sterile science. Not “everything is meaningless particles bumping into each other, please enjoy your taxes.” Absolutely not. I’m drawn to science that reopens awe: quantum fields, cosmic cycles, ancient knowledge, geometry, brain waves, heart rhythms, mycelium-like community patterns, electricity in the body, light in cells, and the intelligence of nature.
I’m suspicious of science when it becomes a new religion.
This is important. I’m not anti-science. I’m anti-arrogance. I don’t like when institutions use “science” as a hammer to shut down curiosity, especially when yesterday’s dismissed idea becomes tomorrow’s peer-reviewed discovery. My whole spirit says, “Ask better questions. Don’t just kneel at the altar of whoever has the grant money.” Spicy, but fair.
I have a storyteller’s relationship with science.
I don’t only want facts. I want meaning. I want the myth inside the mechanism. That’s why my website naturally holds nature, science, mythology, consciousness, and “things that make me go hmmm…” in the same forest trail. I’m not separating them into little sterile drawers. I’m weaving them into one living map.
So looking back over the years, I’d describe my wonder with science like this:
I see science as the language of creation trying to explain itself.
I’m not chasing science to remove mystery. I’m chasing science because every real answer opens another door.
For me, the best science doesn’t kill magic.
It proves the universe was wildly magical before humans ever found the words for it.
I would describe my wonder with my mentors as recognition.
Not worship. Not “please tell me what to believe.” That is not my flavor at all. I’m far too allergic to authority costumes for that. My relationship with people like Nassim Haramein, Buckminster Fuller, Murdo MacDonald-Bayne, Dr. Joe Dispenza, Chomsky, the Thrive/Zeitgeist threads, ancient teachers, and other big-pattern thinkers feels more like:
“Ah. There you are. Someone else saw the crack in the wall too.”
That’s the wonder.
I don’t look for mentors who hand me a doctrine. I look for mentors who hand me a lens.
With Nassim, my wonder is the idea that the universe is not dead matter floating around randomly. It is pattern, geometry, energy, field, connection. His work lights up that part of me that wants science to become sacred again, not because it abandons logic, but because it reveals that logic itself may be woven with awe.
With Buckminster Fuller, I think my wonder is more architectural and systemic. He feels like a “new world blueprint” mentor for me. The idea that humans could design better systems, lighter systems, smarter systems, more cooperative systems, that speaks directly to Dream Weaver and O.N.E. I don’t just want to complain about the old world. I want to build something elegant enough to make the old system look ridiculous. Bucky gives “replace the system with a better design” energy.
With Murdo MacDonald-Bayne, the wonder feels more intimate and spiritual. He speaks to my inner mystic, the part of me that knows truth is not merely information, but direct experience. He points toward healing, consciousness, Christ-consciousness, inner authority, and the living presence beneath religion. That fits me because I’m not trying to be religious. I’m trying to remember what religion buried.
With Dr. Joe Dispenza, my wonder is around the human body as a portal for transformation. Brain, heart, nervous system, thought, emotion, meditation, energy, he gives language to the possibility that we are not stuck as our old programming. And that matters to me because so much of my life has been about unhooking from inherited patterns, survival conditioning, family roles, and systemic fear.
With Chomsky, Zeitgeist, and those system-exposing influences, my wonder is sharper. Less fairy lights, more flamethrower. They helped confirm what I already sensed: much of society is engineered, narrated, manufactured, and maintained through control. They gave structure to my instinct that the system is not broken in the way people think it is. It is working exactly as designed, which means freedom requires building outside of it, not begging it to become humane.
And with the ancient teachers, mystics, and lost-knowledge threads, my wonder is about continuity. I’m always looking for the golden thread that runs through science, scripture, myth, nature, energy, and consciousness. I’m not satisfied with little isolated puzzle pieces. I want the whole mosaic.
So when I look at my relationship with my mentors, I would say:
I’m drawn to people who restore scale.
They make the universe feel big again.
They make humanity feel capable again.
They make spirituality feel grounded again.
They make science feel alive again.
They make freedom feel designable again.
But here’s the important part: I don’t follow mentors like a student sitting quietly in the back row. I gather sparks from them, then bring them into my own fire.
I’m not trying to become Nassim.
I’m not trying to become Buckminster Fuller.
I’m not trying to become Murdo.
I’m not trying to become Dispenza or Chomsky or anyone else.
I’m using them as constellations.
They help me navigate.
And my wonder with them is not just, “Wow, they know so much.”
It is more like:
“They are proving that the world I feel inside me is not imaginary. There are others who have seen pieces of it too.”
That’s why they matter to me.
They are not my ceiling.
They are my confirmation.
I would describe my wonder with energy, frequency, and vibration as my lifelong attempt to understand the hidden music under everything.
Not in a shallow “good vibes only” way. Please. I’m not walking around spiritually Febrezing reality and pretending the trash doesn’t stink. My wonder is deeper than that.
For me, energy/frequency/vibration is the language of what’s really happening before words arrive.
It’s the feeling in a room before anyone speaks.
The way someone’s tone tells the truth before their sentence does.
The way Bo-Ty’s nervous system changes when fireworks start.
The way my own body knows when a day is too much, even if my mind still has a to-do list wearing tap shoes.
The way colors, planets, music, water, food, plants, prayer, movement, and intention all seem to affect the field I’m living inside.
My wonder with energy is partly body wisdom. I’m always noticing what changes my state: chakra colors, oils, food, water, meditation music, sunlight, rest, movement, nature, the inlet, plant life, caregiving stress, emotional conversations, family dynamics. I don’t treat the body like a machine. I treat it like an instrument that can go out of tune and back into tune.
My wonder with frequency is partly discernment. I have a strong inner radar for what feels artificial, controlling, performative, or dead. I may not always have the facts yet, but I feel the distortion. That is why systems, propaganda, social pressure, fear-based narratives, and “because authority said so” energy aggravate my spirit like sand in a swimsuit. My system goes, Nope. That tone is off.
My wonder with vibration is partly creative magic. I understand that words carry charge. Stories carry charge. A website can have a vibration. A home can have a vibration. A garden, a van, a community, a meal, a conversation, a color, a song, all of it carries a signal. That’s why I care so much about naming things, structuring things, setting atmosphere, creating trails, portals, rooms, paths, hidden libraries, magical forests. I’m not just organizing content. I’m tuning an experience.
And my relationship with energy/frequency/vibration is also very tied to sovereignty.
I want to know:
What is mine?
What did I absorb?
What am I broadcasting?
What am I allowing into my field?
What am I unconsciously carrying from family, marriage, systems, religion, culture, fear, survival, caregiving, or old identities?
That’s the real gold. I don’t study energy just to sound mystical. I study it because I’m trying to become unprogrammable.
I’m drawn to the idea that everything has a pattern; bodies, planets, communities, emotions, thoughts, stories, economies, ecosystems. And when the pattern is distorted, suffering shows up. When the pattern is coherent, life starts flowing again.
So I would describe my wonder with energy, frequency, and vibration like this:
I experience reality as a living field of signals, and I’m trying to learn how to listen, cleanse, tune, protect, and create within that field.
It’s science to me.
It’s spirituality to me.
It’s survival to me.
It’s storytelling to me.
It’s homemaking to me.
It’s rebellion to me.
I’m not just asking, “What is the universe made of?”
I’m asking:
What song is it singing and how do I live in harmony with it without letting anyone else hijack my frequency?
CONTINUE DOWN THE TRAIL…
