Journal Entry: Redefine Spirituality By Tiffanie, Founder of Alchemist + Co.

Let’s strip it back. Spirituality, in its rawest form, is simply the pursuit of connection—to self, to source, to something greater. It’s not about dogma. It’s not about hierarchy. And it’s definitely not about performing purity. For me, spirituality is the soft whisper that reminds me I am more than a body, more than a name, more than my past. It’s the invisible thread that ties my intuition, my creativity, my truth together into something whole.

I’ve come to see it less as a belief system, and more like a remembering—a returning. When I speak with our community, I hear the same words echoed again and again: "I don’t know what I believe, but I know I feel something." That something is the pulse of spirit. It doesn’t always show up in a temple or on a yoga mat. Sometimes it’s a deep breath that brings you back into your body. Sometimes it’s goosebumps when someone says exactly what your heart needed to hear.

Now let me be clear—this isn’t about pitting spirituality against religion. Both can be sacred, both can offer peace. But they aren’t the same.

Religion often offers structure—a map. It provides doctrine, community, and a set of beliefs to orient your life around. For many, that’s a beautiful source of grounding. Spirituality, on the other hand, is more like wandering through a forest with a compass that lives in your chest. It’s intuitive. Messy. And deeply personal.

I have Virgo rising and a Libra sun—so trust me, I love a good ritual, a tidy altar, a beautifully structured belief. But my Taurus moon insists on grounding everything into felt experience. What I’ve found is that spirituality is a practice of self-trust. It’s learning to listen inward, even when it doesn’t make logical sense.

Let’s talk about it. Because I hear this all the time: "Is this just woo?"

Rumi’s words—“The wound is the place where the Light enters you”—capture the quiet, transformative power of ritual in a way few things can. Crystals, when held with intention, have a way of bringing us back to the parts of ourselves we’ve forgotten. They're not magical rocks. They're anchors. Reminders. Embodied prayers. When I hold rose quartz to my chest, it’s not about what the crystal will do for me—it’s about the space I’m creating to let something soften inside. To listen inward. To let light touch the wound.

I think that’s the beauty of ritual. It gives us something tangible when the healing is invisible. Crystals help us externalize what we’re working on internally. Whether it’s clarity, compassion, or courage—we can choose a stone, a candle, a mantra, and allow it to become a bridge. It doesn’t matter if anyone else believes in it. The act of believing, of honoring, of showing up with reverence—that’s where the magic lives. Not in the object itself, but in the energy we bring to it.

Here’s where it gets juicy. Because this is the part that I think really redefines modern spirituality: bringing together the unseen with the present.

You don’t have to choose between meditating and smudging. Between journaling and pulling oracle cards. Between neuroscience and numerology. The alchemy happens when you let them coexist.

For me, mindfulness is the gateway. It's the Virgo rising in me that needs to be rooted in presence before reaching into the cosmos. Mindfulness teaches us to notice—our breath, our thoughts, our patterns. And once we’ve noticed, we can work with what’s underneath.

Esoteric tools—like astrology, tarot, herbalism—are simply ways of engaging with deeper layers. When we approach them with discernment (hello, Mercury-ruled chart), they become potent technologies for self-awareness. The point isn’t to become obsessed with rituals or lunar phases—it’s to use them as guides, not gospel.

So what does it mean to be spiritual today?

It means you can listen to trap music and chant mantras.It means you can light a candle for your ancestors and also have a 401k.It means you can work a corporate job, live in the city, and still be deeply connected to your spirit.

Spirituality isn’t an aesthetic. It’s not a certain brand of sage, or how many amethyst towers you own. It’s the intentional way you meet your life. It’s the willingness to soften into mystery, even when you want certainty. It’s the courage to trust your own knowing, even when it goes against the grain.

There’s a quiet revolution happening—and you’re part of it. People are waking up to the truth that they don’t have to earn worthiness. That healing doesn’t have to look like perfection. That the divine is not out there somewhere—it’s within.

If you’re at the edge of your spiritual awakening—or even just dipping your toe into the idea—know this: you don’t need to be perfect to begin. You don’t need all the answers. You don’t even need to feel "spiritual."

You just need to be willing.Willing to notice what stirs your soul. Willing to question what no longer resonates. Willing to open the door to possibility.

Start where you are. Light the candle. Take the breath. Pull the card. Walk outside and let the sun touch your face. This is all prayer. This is all enough.

People often ask me what my spiritual practice looks like—and truthfully, it changes with the seasons. But here’s what stays consistent:

• Morning presence. I wake up slowly. Before reaching for my phone, I take three deep breaths and say thank you.

• Intuitive ritual. I check in: what do I need today? Sometimes it’s a candle and oracle card. Sometimes it’s silence.

• Movement. Whether it’s yoga, walking, or dancing barefoot in my kitchen—moving my body helps me clear stagnant energy.

• Reflection. Journaling is a portal for me. I don’t force it—I just ask, "What needs to be seen?"

• Nature connection. Even if it’s just standing under the sky for a minute. This reminds me I’m part of something bigger.

This isn’t about being perfect. Some days I forget. Some days I rush. But I always return. That’s the practice.

Redefining spirituality isn’t about rejecting tradition or chasing trends. It’s about coming home to your own rhythm. Your own truth. Your own sacred way.

So if no one has told you today: you’re allowed to define what spirit means to you. You’re allowed to blend the ancient with the modern. You’re allowed to be both soft and strong, both skeptical and full of wonder.

You are the alchemist. And this is your becoming.

With love,

Tiffanie
Woman, Mother, Intuitive, Founder.