Category Archives: Creativity


Sometimes I dream in parables. I did last night, and it was a doozy. 

I was on a trip to Paris, but we were experiencing layovers, first in New York, and then in Hawaii. (I know, the routing is wonky, but remember its a parable; they take liberties). I kept complaining that we would never make it to Paris, and that perhaps our guides (one of whom was Victor Hugo in a really bad Beatles wig) did not know what they were doing.

I don’t remember any of the sites we saw in New York, but in the Hawaii layover we were taken to a beautiful ocean vista – the most breathtaking, technicolor view imaginable – and the sea was teeming with breaching whales. We were on a rocky outcropping in the sea, watching this show, feeling the ocean spray on our faces. People were oohing and ahhing, but not me. I was getting more and more worried about ever arriving at our true destination. I saw that others were enjoying themselves, though, and lamely attempted to justify my dulled reaction. “You must not live on the coast,” I said. “I go to Malibu at least once a week.” (I know, right? It can be humiliating down there in the subconscious).

The next thing I knew my daughter and I were on a surfboard…in the sky. She was scared, but I was fine, at least at first. I told her to lean back against me, that I had a good grip. But then it hit me what we were doing. We were on a surfboard 2,000 feet up, falling like skydivers, except there was no parachute and we were literally holding on to this board, as if, somehow, it would magically break our fall. 

Instead of being afraid, I was furious! “What the f— is this?” I questioned. “This is not Paris! This is not what I signed up for! Who is in charge here? How stupid could they be to put us on surfboards in the sky?” 

And then, just like that, we were in a hotel room. We had landed safely. Our companion travelers were there already, beeming from head to toe. Some had showered and put on their PJs for a four-hour nap before boarding our flight for Paris. These excursions had been given to us for the sheer joy of it, because our flight had been delayed.

I was able to catch my breath and see that in hindsight, not only was someone in charge, but SOMEONE quirky, powerful, imaginative and incredibly generous. Suddenly I wanted a do over! I had missed the whole adventure! Once-in-a-lifetime events had occurred and I had missed their magnificence because my agenda was not being met in the fashion I believed was “correct.” Holy cow.

I woke up at that point and heard my angels whisper, “Write this down. It’s important.”

And there it is, y’all. Do with it what you will!



Hello, dear ones. It’s been quite awhile since I’ve written, and this post will be short.

I just wanted to share with you one of the things I’ve been doing  to lift up out of the heavy, painful energy that is so pervasive in the world right now. I call it joy-walking. I’m seeking out the beauty right in my neighborhood as I walk each day, and I’m practicing really taking it in, seeing the flora and fauna with fresh, open eyes, and savoring the rich intricacies of nature.

My particular method of doing this at the moment is with photographs. I recently purchased a little clip-on magnification lens for my iPhone, and the photos that I’m getting just fill me with surprise and joy.

There’s a simple yet profound message in this. When the wide lens becomes overwhelming, zoom in to what is beautiful right under your nose and let it fill up the screen of your inner landscape. This is so very healing!

When the wide lens becomes overwhelming, zoom in to what is beautiful right under your nose and let it fill up the screen of your inner landscape.

Here are a few photos for you to enjoy.



Self-Aware or Self-Conscious: Which Are You?

Self-Consciousness vs
Self-awareness vs. self-consciousness. This is one of those semantic paradoxes we wordsmiths enjoy dissecting.

Some time ago, I had the jolting revelation of my self-consciousness around someone I admire, someone who has genuine, extra-sensory perception, and thus could feel into me and know my inner thoughts, even those I was unaware of having. She wasn’t “spying” on me or anything. I had GIVEN her permission to do this, as I was seeking her guidance in understanding myself better. (I’ve mentioned Diana Lang here before in a post or two. She is a brilliant empath, intuitive, and spiritual counselor here in Los Angeles).

After years of working with Diana and learning so much, I suppose I was finally ready to see this particular veil. I had long been aware that being looked at from the inside out, even by someone with the most loving eyes, someone to whom you have given permission, can be, well…intimidating! But somehow, I had not realized (duh) that I was self-conscious because of it. Nor did Diana ever use the word self-conscious. She used the word “closed.” She said my heart was closed.

“My heart is not closed!” my ego would assert, irritated, and I balked at the notion, claiming to be simply self-aware, objective. But over time, I began to recognize, to actually feel my closed heart, though outwardly I was smiling and saying all the right things. My ego had thrown up a sleek, gracious, smooth-talking, invisible-to-the-naked-eye defense, which she, the wily woman that she is, recognized, but that I couldn’t see myself. She kept reiterating, “This is just data, Angie, not judgment. Let it teach you.”

And, wow, has it taught me.

In mindfulness study, self-awareness is what we practice. We are learning to observe ourselves, to become awake to how our minds work, how our perceptions filter reality and drive our actions, and how our perceptions are influenced by a multiplicity of inputs, most of which are occurring subconsciously.  Over time, we learn to recognize our defense systems, even the sheerest and most seamless of them, and we learn we have the choice to let them go. It may take a lifetime to do, but we learn we can.

Self-consciousness, on the other hand, is a consumptive kind of self-awareness, one that is negative and implosive in nature. We are not seeing our “data.” We are being overwhelmed by inner questioning, self-criticism and comparison, to the point that our hearts are too full of this spew to be available to others. Our best-intentioned, egoic impersonation of heart may keep reaching out, but the reaching will be shallow and conflicted.

Mindful availability is a new term for me, one I learned from an article written by Sue Monk Kidd in her book of devotions, Firstlight. It is a term I am now using in my writing groups, encouraging not only mindful and heart-filled writing, but mindful and heart-filled listening to others’ writing.  The idea is to REALLY listen, to practice surrendering our own internal chatter (mostly self-critical and hyper-sensitive) in order to free up bandwidth to deeply hear and encourage the delicate, budding, heart-song of another, then feed back to them something authentically appreciative about what they wrote.

Each week, as we move around the circle and read, self-consciousness begins to gently thaw, and our hungry-to-be-known hearts begin to warm up and come forward. This is the greatest gift we can ever give anyone, our willingness to receive their hungry  hearts. And it is the greatest gift we will ever receive from someone else. A two-way blessing.

All week long Bruce Springsteen’s lyric “Everybody’s Got a Hungry Heart” has been playing in the background of my mind. I think it was there, calling this post forward. Self-consciousness tells us to be ashamed of our hungry-heartedness. Compassionate self-awareness tells us hungry-heartedness is the essence of our divine humanity. We are hungry to know and be known, to love and be loved, and to experience the richness of life we know deep inside we were put here to have. Nothing wrong with that! Nothing to be embarrassed by! Nothing to be defensive about!

And right there in our shared hunger, we can feed each other. It’s vulnerable. It’s raw. It’s real. And it’s as good as it gets!

Six Impossible Things

Impossible2Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said. “One can’t believe impossible things.”

“I dare say you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”    – Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

This is my new spiritual practice each morning: I am committing myself to write six seemingly impossible things to believe in. Silly? Maybe, but I think not. I think the White Queen was on to something. More than ever, it seems to me, we need to wake up to the potency of our imaginations and harness that creative force for good.

It takes concentrated practice to retrain our imaginations away from worry, from herd thinking, from the entropy of negativity. This is hardly new news, but everyday we need to remind ourselves…to wake ourselves up! As a hypnotherapist, I am particularly attuned to the level of hypnosis we are all in, daily. Years ago, I stopped putting people into trance and refocused my energy into waking them from trance, myself included!

We joke about this – the trance of Facebook, the internet, television…the news! But its really no joking matter anymore. I’m firmly convinced that the reason Zombies and Vampires are such a trendy subject is that we relate to them so much. Metaphorically, they are us!

I just got back from a trip to the deep south, and once again saw so clearly how there are cultural trances as well. We buy into the mindsets of those around us, because we are relational creatures. Returning to California and to my home, I could literally feel the shift of one “galaxy” to another. (California is a cultural trance as well, Californians!) One of the characteristics of hypnosis is that it is so obvious from the outside in, but from the inside out it feels like reality!

Wake Up CallSo here’s another wake up call, people! You’ve probably had two or three others already this morning! Count yourself up and out of hypnosis! 1-2-3-4-5. Eyes open, wide awake!

And once awake, get creative! Get your imagination in gear! Don’t worry about how to do the impossible just yet. First, decide to do it! The how will then present itself, one step at a time. That is the magic of our spiritually creative inheritance.

NOTHING is impossible! Now let’s get busy!


Hello, my friends.  There are TWO last minute openings in a writing group I facilitate at a San Fernando Valley Family Resource Center called Friends of the Family.  Because this is a charitable organization,  the course is offered FREE,  and it is a powerful, if I do say so myself! The first group was so well received, it has continued on privately beyond the 7-week offering.

This new class begins THIS TUESDAY, February 2, from 12 – 1:30pm, so if you are interested, let me know asap!  Here is the information:

Flyer Art 2
– This is an introductory, 7-week writing group designed to help you get in touch with your intuition and creativity in a playful, supportive, non-judgmental atmosphere. Operating from the principle that everyone is creative by birthright, we will explore one of our primary creative processes – self-expression through language.

Working with our imaginations, dreams, memories, imagery, sounds and other sensory stimuli, we will play with words as a form of personal archaeology – coming to discover within ourselves a treasure trove we might not have known was there. We will learn how to listen to the voice of the heart, and how to encourage the heart’s expression in others, developing greater self-love, self-trust and personal empowerment in the process.

There will be both discussion and lots of writing exercises, as well as opportunity to share your work with the group, if you so desire.

Angela Hite is a writer, producer, hypnotherapist, spiritual blogger, and businesswoman. A published poet, she is currently editing a book of poetry for 2016 release and writing a novel. You can follow her blog at



My First Vlog

Check me out!  I’m getting braver! Today I was “told” by my intuition to make a video of myself about today’s spiritual practice (I’m usually behind the camera).  And to my own surprise, I said yes!

INTUITION is the topic for my writing group’s next six-week series, and it fits beautifully with my “soul word” for 2016, FLOW. (Each year at a beautiful winter Solstice ceremony here in Los Angeles, led by my friend and mentor, Diana Lang, we invite a word or idea to rise up in our awareness, which then becomes a spiritual theme for the year ahead. My word was flow, and I’m amazed at all that has already flowed my way since receiving it.)

FLOW does ask one to be adventurous, though! So here I go!



Lifting Up: I Just Know I Can Fly

Several years ago, I experienced a cluster of dreams, in which I was being schooled in the art of flying by illuminated beings. Angels? Aliens? Subconscious archetypes? Something I ate for dinner? I don’t know, but they were nice.

They showed me how to establish and have expectation around an intention, how to create a particular emotional state (lightness of being, of course), how to practice altering the downward thrust of gravity in my body (“as consciousness rises and becomes less dense, so does your body”), and then how to attune my hands’ sensitivity to the recognition of gravitational energy, so they could push against gravity the way magnets can repel each other. None of this was actually spoken by these beings. They simply conveyed the two-word thought:  “Lift up,” which went through my brain-filter in all it’s dense and detailed language and image processing.

In these dreams I also witnessed flight happening all around me. There were hundreds of us in the outdoor school, lifting a few feet off the ground, then gliding back down, then a few feet more, then back down. The more I saw,  the more I believed in the possibility.

As my sensitization to the feeling of gravity grew, my first awareness was that of my hands dragging through air, as if it had become the consistency of water. I could feel the weight and pulse of it, the texture of it. Of course, the air hadn’t changed.  My consciousness  had.

Pushing AirOver time (and through several dreams), I began to notice a shift from dragging through air to pushing it, the way magnets’ matching poles propel away from each other. And from there, I began to lift and direct myself into the sky, being filled with enthusiasm, then gripped by fear and doubt, which tumbled me back to earth. Eventually, I could sustain the joy long enough to hover around the tops of trees.

I would wake from these dreams and feel the experience so strongly in my body, that I would literally get out of bed in the middle of the night with the belief I could do this! I could “lift up!” Alas, I could not.

These nocturnal “lessons” all happened several years ago and then stopped, until the eve of my birthday this year. In this newest dream, I was no longer in school, and I’d forgotten I could fly. But due to an emergency in which I really needed to get some altitude (I’d lost my daughter at a theme park), I had the sudden recollection of my skill set and launched myself far above the treetops to scan the ground, like a hawk in search of dinner. I found my daughter and woke up, exhilarated.

We could have a field day with dream interpretation here, but the analysis, though compelling, was far less captivating to me than the actual physical sensation. I always woke up absolutely certain that physical flight as human beings is possible, because I had done it! I knew the sensation, like I knew the feeling of tossing a ball, climbing stairs, or swimming in a pool.

So, here is where my story shifts from dreamland to my backyard.  And no, I did not fly in my backyard.

On my birthday morning,  I was sitting on the patio with coffee and journal, writing about my flying dream, talking with Holy Spirit (my name for the Mystery) and asking (don’t laugh), “Is it indeed possible for humans to fly… for me to fly? We hear about yogis who can levitate. Am I, perhaps, being trained through dream work to do something my conscious mind wouldn’t necessarily be open to?”

I pondered and wrote, feeling sheepish, but nevertheless giving some effort to mentally lifting my butt from the seat cushions! After a very short amount of time, though, it became clear to me that no, I’m not yet schooled enough to lift these dense hips and thighs! But perhaps I could lift the leaf resting on a chair across from me? Ha! So I concentrated on the leaf, and within a couple of minutes the wind began to blow like crazy, and leaves began to fall from a nearby tree all over the patio. That one leaf on the chair, though, sat perfectly still.

It was pretty funny, as if Holy Spirit was teasing me, saying, “Seriously, honey.  We have a LOT more work to do, but I hear you, and I love you for trying!” My heart became so light I couldn’t stop giggling and feeling a true sense of connection with the wind, the trees, the falling leaves.  I was playing with Life, and Life was playing back! It was a perfect birthday present. This old girl still had some young girl in her!

I then heard inside my head, “Turn on your video recorder.” I immediately picked up my phone, zeroed in on that still-dead-still-leaf on the chair across from me, and waited. After fifteen seconds or so, the leaf bobbled. Just once…a little birthday bow.

Laugh, if you will, but I’m on to something.  I just know it!  😉

If you have flying dreams, too, please share! What a fun conversation (and maybe a classroom experience) we could have!

Blessings, everyone!

That Kiss

Moonlight through windowI go through these phases from time to time, where I feel as though something is pulling at my consciousness, whispering, “The veils are dropping, my dear. Just around this next bend; you are almost there.” Do you? Maybe its just me, but I think not. It’s just hard to put language to, that’s all. And its vulnerable.  And we have a love/hate relationship with vulnerability, even though we are collectively learning to lean in to it more and more…the stirring of the Divine Feminine. Rumi knew this place well. He expressed it so beautifully:

There is some kiss we want
with our whole lives,
the touch of Spirit on the body.

Seawater begs the pearl
to break its shell.

And the lily, how passionately
it needs some wild Darling!

At night, I open the window
and ask the moon to come
and press its face into mine.
Breathe into me.

Close the language-door,
and open the love-window.

The moon won’t use the door,
only the window.


Riding the Waves of Flow

PerfectionismThe perfectionist fixes one line of a poem over and over – until no lines are right. The perfectionist redraws the chin line on a portrait until the paper tears. The perfectionist writes so many versions of Scene One that she never gets to the rest of the play. The perfectionist writes, paints, creates with one eye on her audience. Instead of enjoying the process, the perfectionist is constantly grading the results. The perfectionist has married the logic side of the brain. The critic reigns supreme in the perfectionist’s creative household.

-Julia Cameron, The Artists Way

Well, hell. That is me. No wonder writing, which I love with all my heart, can feel like such a chore! I’ve killed many a poem this way.

Yes, yes, I have known I am a perfectionist for a long time, and have worked for years to let it go. The fact that I put up a website at all is evidence that I have made some progress on that score! But the practice is ongoing, and something about those lines above cracked the shell a little bit more.

Maybe it’s the times. Maybe it is this constriction we have all been feeling, with pockets of relief that are so counter to the squeeze we feel we could fly. It’s a high/low time, that’s for sure.

For those of us who want to give Light, be Light, we’ve been coming up hard against the rocks in the river. At least that’s what’s happening in my circle. Is it happening to you? Are you feeling slammed in the fast current?

The message I’m getting this morning is to just let it go! Just be! Just write! Just ride! Just live! We can’t direct this thing, as much as our controlling selves want to. We can do our best to stay in the raft. And if we end up in the water, we can crawl back on board. And if we end up with a bump on the head from the tumble, we can let it scramble our brains a little. We need our brains scrambled.

So that’s it. That’s the message for today. Can you feel the shift in my tone? I’m giving it a try. Wide open. You might even find a typo here. Lord, help me.