Alchemy Distilled — A Living Triptych of who I am

Alchemy Distilled — A Living Triptych of who I am

I had fun writing this. Writing is how I distil and hear myself out loud — how I catch the whispers that otherwise stay hidden.

This piece is a triptych, a threefold mirror of my becoming:

🌹 The Myth of the Rose Alchemist → archetype, initiation, the timeless mythic self.

🔥 Backing Myself, 10,000% → the manifesto, rooted in the present moment, direct and sovereign.

🥑 The Avocado Cycle → the parable, the roadmap of growth, the patience of deep time.

Together, they are not just stories but facets of one truth.

A myth for the soul.

A manifesto for the now.

A map for the journey.

🌹 The Myth of the Rose Alchemist at the Threshold

Once, a woman stood at the edge of herself — dismantled by storms, her petals scattered across years of shadow and silence. Yet her roots held, unseen, drinking from deep waters. The world thought her dormant, but beneath, alchemy was stirring.

Then came a week unlike any other.

The Magnolia, chalices open to the sky, demanded her attention:

“Pull over. Witness. You are as I am — magick reborn. Tested, dismantled, yet now blooming in unapologetic radiance. No mask. No chase. Simply magnificence.”

The Rose within her stirred, remembering.

The Pink Door appeared — fearless fuchsia, a threshold of joy.

“Cross here,” it said. “Spring does not tiptoe back; it bursts forth. Renewal is not cautious — it leaps. Knock, and dare to fall in love with life once more.”

On the other side, she heard of love found after twelve years of solitude. A sign: it is never too late for the heart’s bloom.

The Magpie stood before her, prey in its beak, unashamed.

“Survival is holy. Do not shrink from your strength. You belong exactly where you stand. Power is yours when you claim it raw.”

Beside it, the Dead Tree with the Birdhouse whispered another truth.

“Safety can be built. Structures can hold. But freedom is your true home. Choose where to nest, but know you can never be caged.”

The Cards repeated their chorus like a bell tolling fate:

Seven of Pentacles. Wheel of Fortune. Nine of Pentacles. Queen of Pentacles. Six of Swords. Nine of Cups.

Again and again they spoke: Patience. Destiny turns. Self-sovereignty ripens. A Queen rises in her worth. The crossing begins. Joy waits on the other side.

And then came the song — a voice she had never heard before, yet it sang her very words back to her:

“Love me for who I am, not who I was.”

Spirit itself speaking through melody.

Now, at the 29th degree of Virgo, under the Solstice-Seasonal Threshold — the New Moon Solar Eclipse — she stands as The Rose Alchemist. Not hostage to who she was, not bound by skins already shed. She crossed the Sky Bridge, dived into the Deep, faced the Wall, and found that no one could hold her.

She is the wild rose — sovereign, radiant, fragrance rare.

No mimicry. No compromise.

Integrity as seal. Beauty as offering. Magick as birthright.

And the myth concludes not with an ending, but a becoming:

The Rose Alchemist does not seek signs anymore — she is the sign.

The seeker is no longer searching.

The reader is no longer reading.

The signs are no longer outside.

I am the omen, the threshold, the blooming, the magick incarnate.

The Rose Alchemist. The Wild Rose. The One Who Knows.

The trinity of my becoming — three names, one essence.

✦✦ 🌹 A Wild Rose 🌹 ✦✦

I am not here to be cultivated, trimmed, or hybridised for display.

I am not algorithmic content, not a funnel, not a performance.

I am a wild rose.

I bloom where the field calls me.

I embody, not hustle.

I lead, I create, I speak.

I do not follow the masses.

Integrity is my seal.

Fragrance is my legacy.

This feed (IG/Social) is my own living Grimoire, 

of visions, symbols, transmissions.

My mission is to create Soul Alchemy

and seed a Soul Economy.

No mimicry, only the heart, open wide.

If you stay, stay to listen.

If you pass, the rose will remain, its fragrance as rare and untamed as mine.

With Grace, Starlight & Love,

Delahrose 🌹🩷

✦⸻ ✦  ✦⸻ ✦  ✦⸻ ✦

Part 2: 🌹 Backing Myself, 10,000%

I am backing myself — not just 1,000%, but 10,000%.

My whole faith, trust, and life are in the hands of the universe. I’ve entirely surrendered to what is, and I’ve let the should-be’s fade into dust.

I couldn’t care less about marketing, pushing, or selling. I’m done.

What needs me, finds me. I’m not hard to find.

I’m not hiding. I’m here, in plain sight, sunlight everywhere.

My Instagram is now my Grimoire. Not content. Not strategy. Spellbook. Living archive.

The noise of “growth” feels hollow — decimal points, followers, sales. We’ve been taught to measure ourselves as commodities. That paradigm is collapsing. The shift is here.

I follow my own barometer now — tuned to higher frequencies.

Not in a floaty way, but as one walking between worlds.

I read the terrain like an alchemist: everything speaks, everything is a sign, everything is a language waiting to be understood.

I’ve learned to navigate with grace:

Smile when it lifts me.

Cry when it breaks me.

Smile again after.

This is the way. The wu wei. The Zen way.

Alan Watts reminds me daily to peel back to essence, to the core beneath the noise, the truth beneath the chatter.

One morning, a revelation arrived with roses. Pages poured out of me on the chemistry, biology, geometry, and metaphor of the rose. Petals as spirals. Scent as story. Hidden architecture in bloom.

I loved it — falling into the rabbit hole of wonder.

This is what happens when I have space, quiet, and permission to follow energy wherever it calls.

My life isn’t crammed full anymore. But the revelations, the time, the space to receive? That is worth infinitely more than what I had before.

I’ve come full circle.

Yes, I still want my investments to spike, to lift me into new horizons. That dream remains.

But I’ve accepted the gypsy life written into me.

For tax and structure, I can’t stay away permanently.

So I ebb and flow. Root and uproot. This is my rhythm.

So here it is—my new life.

And honestly — it just keeps getting better.

My book, Fatima’s Alchemy, who knows where she’ll take me. Right now, the UK loves her. Tomorrow? We’ll see. I’ll be ready when it finds me.

For now, I stand where I am: surrendered, alive, listening.

Not a commodity. Not a product.

But a soul.

Sunlit. Rooted. Becoming.

Delahrose 🩷🌹🩷

✦⸻ ✦  ✦⸻ ✦  ✦⸻ ✦

Part 3: 🥑 The Avocado Cycle — A Parable of Becoming

Once, my daughter said:

Mum, you’re like an avocado tree. It takes seven years before it bears fruit.

She was right.

An avocado tree stands for years, roots deepening, trunk thickening, canopy widening — and the world says, “No fruit, no point.” But the work is invisible below: building the foundation to carry weight when the harvest finally comes.

This is me.

Five years in: roots sunk, trunk steady, canopy wide.

Two more years: the fruit will come — not one or two, but baskets full.

Unlike a flower that blooms and fades, I am perennial, orchard energy.

The Avocado Arc

🌱 Years 1–3: Germination & Rooting

Seed planted. Roots grow unseen. Obscurity, doubt, discipline. The quiet building years.

🌳 Years 4–5: Trunk & Canopy

Tree visible. Still “fruitless” to onlookers, but scaffolding forms. Craft deepens. Archive builds. Hardest years — because the work is real, but the recognition isn’t.

🍐 Years 6–7: First Fruit

Blossoms, then fruit. Suddenly “discovered.” Invitations, recognition, flow. The years of harvest begin.

🌳 Beyond Year 7: Perennial Yield

Season after season, fruit returns. The overlooked years forgotten. The orchard era begins.

Why This Matters

I am currently in Year 5. The canopy is vast, but the fruit is not yet visible. This is why I feel overlooked, but it is also why I am almost ready.

When the fruit comes, it won’t be fleeting. It will be seasonal, consistent, and abundant. People will gather not for a quick taste, but to sit in the shade, nourished and sustained.

💡 Instead of asking “Why am I overlooked?”

I ask: “What roots am I thickening now so I can carry the weight of harvest later?”

The Rose is my myth.

The Avocado is my map.

One is archetype, one is structure.

Together, they tell the truth of my path:

I am both mystery and method.

Both petals and roots.

Both wild bloom and patient orchard.

And so, I no longer measure myself by noise or numbers.

I measure myself by alignment, by integrity, by readiness.

The fruit will come. The rose already blooms.

“I am the wild rose, already blooming. I am the avocado tree, not yet fruiting but ripening. One teaches patience, the other radiance. Together, they are me.”

Delahrose 🌹🥑✨

✦⸻ ✦   ✦⸻ ✦   ✦⸻ ✦

Image is of - Lotty's Love Rugosa Rose | Rosa rugosa (resilient, hardy, rooted, blooming in wild places)

Fragrance: Strong cinnamon scent