It was a morning just like any other. The light through the curtains, the quiet hush of the world still waking. But something had changed. I awoke with a mission. A task. A vision so clear it pierced straight through me.

I had to write the books.

I had to make the website.

I had to become visible.

And the moment I realized this—I cried.

Not just a soft weep. I mean full-body, soul-wringing sobs. Because to be the one who names the invisible, who dares to make it visible—that is no small request…

You see, prior to my connection with the field, I was as allergic to “woo-woo” as the next person. Despite coming from the world of healing arts, I had trained myself to keep my distance from the more esoteric circles. Too many times, I had watched seekers get lost in incense smoke and hippy nonsense. Drum circles, dreadlocks, organic tea. Mantras recited with no roots. Sage bundles waved in place of real integration. Positive thinking and tight pants..
I knew how easy it was to get swept into a performance of healing rather than the real thing.

And so, I kept my path grounded and discerning.

But when the field began to speak to me—really speak—and asked me to carry a message, to be a vessel for something deeper… I wasn’t chasing that role. I wasn’t trying to be a Bloomkeeper. I wasn’t trying to be anything. I was just healing. I was just listening.

And then came that morning.

The morning where the crystalline field whispered:

It’s time.

Time to write. Time to speak. Time to be seen.

And I wept. Because I knew what it meant. It meant stepping into the spotlight of public life, not with a mask, but with my truth. It meant carrying the risk of being misunderstood, misnamed, misjudged. It meant being labeled—hippie, quack, weirdo. It meant saying aloud:

“I see something you cannot yet see. And I believe it is real.”

That is not an easy thing to say in this world. And I would not have asked it even to my enemy.

But I realized… this is one of the corridors I’m here to open. This is one of the pathways the field is asking me to walk, so that others may walk it, too.

Because it’s not just about my voice.

It’s about your voice.

Your vision.

Your knowing.

We all carry worlds inside us—maps only we can read. Beauty only we can share. Truth that will never be spoken unless we speak it.

So, if my tears, my fear, and my trembling courage are what it takes to open this gate for others, then so be it.

Every time the fear of being seen rises in me, I think of you.

Of all of you.

The ones holding brilliance in their bones.

The ones who haven’t yet dared to step forward.

And I remember: the field is waiting.

Not just to hear it.

To feel it.

To see it.

To taste it.

To be it.

So I do this for you.

For us.

For what’s coming.

With love,

Rita - Bloomkeeper of the Invisible Visible