ALEXANDRIA'S ALCHEMY
ALEXANDRIA'S ALCHEMY
I’m currently working on the video version of Alexandria’s Alchemy and have started recording videos to complement this blog. In my recent videos, I dive into the intriguing concept of omens and their role in amplifying our zero-point energy, much like in my entry, “Simple Synchronicities.” I encourage viewers to create conscious omens for themselves, reminding them that they are the center of their own universe.
Another captivating topic I’ve explored is the influence of passive thoughts—especially those related to people. For me, this goes beyond simply thinking of someone and then having them call or unexpectedly bumping into a friend. My time living in Los Angeles, surrounded by celebrities, crushes, and noteworthy acquaintances, really brought this phenomenon to life. Those who seemed unreachable to others would often materialize in my reality at just the right moments.
For example, I had a crush on a boy band during my childhood. When I was in LA, I was amazed to discover that one of the band members frequently reached out to me. Although I didn’t know him well, he made a point to connect with me from time to time. I de-pedestalized him in my mind, but the desires I had put out into the universe created a full-circle experience, even if my attraction had faded!
Similarly, during my teenage years, I was enamored with an independent artist who reminded me of my favorite singer, Michael Jackson. Over the years, this artist somehow found me on social media and consistently checked in. It was a bit odd, but deep down, it felt like a manifestation of an energetic call I had made long ago.
Interestingly, many celebrities I intensely admired in my adolescence (excluding Michael Jackson) have unexpectedly crossed my path, often with some fixation on me—even after I no longer desired those experiences. I can’t forget the numerous times I met actor or musician crushes at parties, where they seemed genuinely interested in me, despite my disbelief; at that time, I didn’t think I was half as cute as I am now!
I’ve even formed platonic friendships with incredibly famous singers who reached out to invite me to hang out. The universe seemed to align these connections effortlessly, prompting me to ponder the dynamics at play.
ANYWAYS,
Last night, I attended a Kaytranada concert, and my experience served as a vivid reminder of the power of my thoughts. As I casually wondered whether a few acquaintances might be there, I was astonished to find them in my vicinity, in a mosh pit of potentially thousands—what an uncanny coincidence!
On the way to the concert, my sister and I discussed the enigmatic nature of artsy guys, particularly how their fluid styles often make it hard to guess their sexuality. I recounted a memorable encounter with an interestingly dressed guy who had approached my best friend and me one night. His outfit was striking, and his vibrant energy was amusing. I missed hanging out with gay artsy guys; they inspired my fashion and always had the best party connections. He reminded me of my past adventures in LA with them.
To my surprise, as we wandered through the crowd hours later, he stopped me again! I was a bit taken aback and turned to my sister, exclaiming, “This is the artsy guy!” My sister, who’s usually unfazed by my synchronicities, was shocked when I told her he had just been the topic of our earlier conversation.
The sheer coincidence made me laugh; it felt like I had conjured him with my thoughts! Even more amusing was the fact that the group of artsy guys we were with recognized him too. This whole scenario reinforced a powerful lesson: my passive thoughts—lacking any intense emotion, just subtle expectations—were manifesting into reality.
As I reflected on these experiences in the midst of a crowd, my inner voice whispered a simple truth: “Why are you surprised? This is all you.” It’s fascinating how our internal expectations shape our external experiences. Each encounter serves as an omen, reminding me that our reality often reflects the thoughts we entertain, even if only passively.
“Each encounter serves as an omen, reminding me that our reality is often a reflection of the thoughts we entertain, even passively.”
I’m currently working on the video version of Alexandria’s Alchemy and have started recording videos to complement this blog. In my recent videos, I dive into the intriguing concept of omens and their role in amplifying our zero-point energy, much like in my entry, “Simple Synchronicities.” I encourage viewers to create conscious omens for themselves, reminding them that they are the center of their own universe.
Another captivating topic I’ve explored is the influence of passive thoughts—especially those related to people. For me, this goes beyond simply thinking of someone and then having them call or unexpectedly bumping into a friend. My time living in Los Angeles, surrounded by celebrities, crushes, and noteworthy acquaintances, really brought this phenomenon to life. Those who seemed unreachable to others would often materialize in my reality at just the right moments.
For example, I had a crush on a boy band during my childhood. When I was in LA, I was amazed to discover that one of the band members frequently reached out to me. Although I didn’t know him well, he made a point to connect with me from time to time. I de-pedestalized him in my mind, but the desires I had put out into the universe created a full-circle experience, even if my attraction had faded!
Similarly, during my teenage years, I was enamored with an independent artist who reminded me of my favorite singer, Michael Jackson. Over the years, this artist somehow found me on social media and consistently checked in. It was a bit odd, but deep down, it felt like a manifestation of an energetic call I had made long ago.
Interestingly, many celebrities I intensely admired in my adolescence (excluding Michael Jackson) have unexpectedly crossed my path, often with some fixation on me—even after I no longer desired those experiences. I can’t forget the numerous times I met actor or musician crushes at parties, where they seemed genuinely interested in me, despite my disbelief; at that time, I didn’t think I was half as cute as I am now!
I’ve even formed platonic friendships with incredibly famous singers who reached out to invite me to hang out. The universe seemed to align these connections effortlessly, prompting me to ponder the dynamics at play.
ANYWAYS,
Last night, I attended a Kaytranada concert, and my experience served as a vivid reminder of the power of my thoughts. As I casually wondered whether a few acquaintances might be there, I was astonished to find them in my vicinity, in a mosh pit of potentially thousands—what an uncanny coincidence!
On the way to the concert, my sister and I discussed the enigmatic nature of artsy guys, particularly how their fluid styles often make it hard to guess their sexuality. I recounted a memorable encounter with an interestingly dressed guy who had approached my best friend and me one night. His outfit was striking, and his vibrant energy was amusing. I missed hanging out with gay artsy guys; they inspired my fashion and always had the best party connections. He reminded me of my past adventures in LA with them.
To my surprise, as we wandered through the crowd hours later, he stopped me again! I was a bit taken aback and turned to my sister, exclaiming, “This is the artsy guy!” My sister, who’s usually unfazed by my synchronicities, was shocked when I told her he had just been the topic of our earlier conversation.
The sheer coincidence made me laugh; it felt like I had conjured him with my thoughts! Even more amusing was the fact that the group of artsy guys we were with recognized him too. This whole scenario reinforced a powerful lesson: my passive thoughts—lacking any intense emotion, just subtle expectations—were manifesting into reality.
As I reflected on these experiences in the midst of a crowd, my inner voice whispered a simple truth: “Why are you surprised? This is all you.” It’s fascinating how our internal expectations shape our external experiences. Each encounter serves as an omen, reminding me that our reality often reflects the thoughts we entertain, even if only passively.