Bonnie Hassan: Reiki Master, Medium, Psychic, Psychotherapist

11/24/2025

When art, music, and clean energy all come from the same breeze Greece created something magical.

Across Greece, a new kind of renewable beauty is rising: wind harps sculptural structures that turn moving air into both music and electricity.
During the day, they sing softly as the wind flows through their strings. At night, many glow with the very power they generate, transforming into illuminated musical sculptures along parks, coastlines, and historic walkways.

Made from corrosion-resistant materials and engineered for silent, sustainable operation, these wind harps blend culture, creativity, and clean energy in one breathtaking design.
They don’t just let people hear the wind they let them see how it can light the night.

11/24/2025

Mayim Bialik never intended to walk back into Hollywood. Not after earning a PhD, not after constructing a quiet life in academia, and certainly not while living on a lecturer’s salary that barely brushed $4,300 per semester at UCLA. But life has a way of backing even the strongest people into corners, and in 2009, Mayim found herself pressed against one she could no longer ignore. Fans would later call her return a “career comeback.” She knew better. It wasn’t a comeback — it was survival.
After Blossom ended in 1995, she didn’t cling to fame. She walked away from it. She chose labs over red carpets, textbooks over casting calls. “I wanted something real,” she once said. Neuroscience became that anchor. Her PhD opened doors in research and teaching, but those doors didn’t come with real financial security. She was teaching basic courses, pouring hours into lectures, assignments, grading — all for less than $10,000 a year. Her childcare expenses routinely swallowed more than her paycheck. She and her husband stretched every dollar until it frayed.
And then came the letter.
A plain envelope from their insurance provider. A date printed in cold, unfeeling ink: November 1 — the day their coverage would end. She remembers holding that letter and feeling something sink inside her. “I wasn’t scared for myself,” she said years later. “I was scared because I’m a mother. My kids needed care. That was non-negotiable.”
Days later her agent mentioned a small guest role on a sitcom she’d never watched — The Big Bang Theory. She didn’t apply because it was glamorous. She applied because the clock on her children’s healthcare was ticking.
On the day of the audition, Mayim drove to Warner Bros. in her 10-year-old Honda, the one with the broken air conditioner that only blew warm air no matter the weather. The car rattled as she pulled through the lot, her old printed résumé sitting beside her, still showing the long gap where she’d chosen science over screens. In her glove compartment, folded and tucked under her registration papers, was the insurance termination letter. A reminder of why she was really there.
When casting director Ken Miller asked why she’d come back to acting, she smiled the way people do when they’re trying not to reveal the weight they’re carrying.
“I just… miss comedy,” she said.
What she didn’t say was, “I can’t lose our insurance. I can’t fail my kids.”
Then came the chemistry read with Jim Parsons. The script required sharp, surgical comedic timing. As the cameras rolled, Mayim held her ground — calm, quick, precise. Between takes, she tapped notes into the same tiny spiral notebook she used for lectures. On one page were cues from the scene. On the next were reminders about pickup times for her children, along with the cost of an upcoming doctor’s appointment she wasn’t sure she could afford without insurance.
Jim Parsons later said she walked in “already calibrated.” He never knew she was doing mental math between jokes, calculating co-pays and deadlines between lines of dialogue.
A few days later, CBS called.
They wanted her.
They wanted Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler.
And with the role came something that mattered more than the exposure, more than the paycheck, more than the prestige of joining a hit show: full medical benefits. Her first network check didn’t buy luxury. It bought her children’s next year of healthcare. She cried in the car when she read the contract — not because she was back on television, but because she had finally exhaled after months of carrying a fear she never spoke aloud.
People love to tell the story as though she returned to acting because destiny guided her back to the spotlight. But the truth is far braver, far quieter, and far more human.
Mayim Bialik didn’t return because Hollywood needed her.
She returned because her children needed her.
Because a mother with an expiring insurance plan will do whatever it takes.
And because sometimes, necessity — not fame — shapes the greatest performances of our lives.

11/09/2025

He fought bravely with every ounce of strength he had — against addiction, against despair, against the slow erosion of joy that fame can bring. Dick Van D**e, the man who made the world laugh, once came dangerously close to losing himself. Few knew it then, but behind that dazzling grin in Mary Poppins was a man quietly falling apart.
It was 1963, and Van D**e was living the dream. The Dick Van D**e Show had turned him into America’s favorite husband — charming, funny, a symbol of wholesome optimism. Yet every night, that same man who made millions laugh drank alone just to sleep. “I was drinking just to get through the day,” he admitted years later. “I was the life of the party — and dying inside.”
When Walt Disney cast him as Bert in Mary Poppins, it was both a miracle and a test. He was hungover on set more times than he’d ever admit, his infamous Cockney accent mocked for decades — and yet, the camera loved him. The sparkle in his eyes wasn’t just acting; it was defiance. “He had this innocence you couldn’t fake,” Julie Andrews said. “Even when he was breaking, he glowed.” That glow came at a price.
Born in West Plains, Missouri, in 1925, Van D**e came from a time when joy was a luxury. The Great Depression forced him to grow up fast — stealing pies, patching shoes, dreaming of laughter in a world that had none. He served in the Air Force during World War II, not as a soldier with a rifle, but as a performer. “They needed someone to make people forget the bombs,” he once said. “So I danced.”
After years of rejection and hunger, his big break came with Bye Bye Birdie on Broadway in 1960. One year later, The Dick Van D**e Show made him a household name. But success, he’d later confess, “didn’t fill the hole I thought it would.” The bottle became his silent co-star. By the 1970s, it nearly killed him. “I’d look in the mirror,” he recalled, “and not recognize the man who smiled back.”
Rehab saved him — barely. “I’d made too many people laugh to die a joke,” he said. And he didn’t. He fought his way back, step by trembling step. In time, laughter stopped being a mask and became a medicine.
Even in his nineties, Van D**e refuses to slow down. He danced again in Mary Poppins Returns at 91 — no stunt doubles, no excuses. “I’ve waited fifty years for this sequel,” he told the crew, grinning ear to ear. To this day, he sings, trains, and drives himself to rehearsals. When asked how he stays so young, he smiles: “Just keep moving. When you stop moving, you stop living.”
Dick Van D**e’s story isn’t about effortless joy — it’s about survival through joy. He taught the world that optimism isn’t born of ease but forged in pain. He didn’t just make us laugh — he showed us that laughter itself can be an act of courage.

10/28/2025

A Reminder for When You Forget You are not separate from the universe. You are its living expression — a pattern of starlight and breath, spiraled into a body. Every cell in you carries the memory of oceans, the spin of galaxies, and the pulse of the earth. Your heart beats in fractals. Your thoughts ripple like waves. You are geometry, resonance, and intention in motion. Science shows belief can heal. A shift in trust can release pain. A moment of coherence can restore balance to an entire system. This is not magic. This is design. You are capable of miracles because you are made of the same fabric as everything miraculous. And yet — it’s easy to forget. We get caught in noise, in fear, in the illusion of smallness. We start to think we are separate, fragile, or less-than. So pause. Breathe. Feel your feet on the ground and your lungs fill with air that once moved through forests, mountains, and stars. You are not an accident. You are not broken. You are not alone. You are life remembering itself — powerful, creative, infinite. Trust that. Act from that. And when you forget, return to this: You already are everything you’re seeking.

10/26/2025

10/15/2025

Every delay in your life right now is refinement, not resistance. ❤️