I was born intuitive.
Adopted at birth.

I came home the day I was reunited with — and called — my biological mother. After my intuition screamed at me for months while I carried my third daughter. I sent for my birth records. I wrote a careful letter. And on the very day I came home from giving birth, a letter arrived from Florida.

It started:

"You have never been a secret. And I have loved you from the moment you were born."

I called her. We talked for hours. I asked about her voice — why it sounded hoarse — and she told me she was fighting cancer for the second time. Within two months, I was on a plane with my newborn in my arms, flying to meet her, my three half-siblings, and a whole second family.

She crossed over six months later. What a full-circle moment and blessing for her and me to be able to spend the precious time together that we did.

I reunited with her on the day I birthed my third daughter. I am her third child. She was the third daughter in her own line. The threes repeated. My intuition had known. My Divine Team had known.

I chose the name Temple Franklin years later, after the genealogist gave me my lineage back. Every other name I had carried in this life had been given to me by someone else, and had served its purpose. Temple is in my lineage and means home — coming home to yourself, home within yourself. Franklin is also in my ancestral line, the inventor's blood. These are the first names I have ever carried that are mine. Anchored. Earned. Remembered.

I spent years looking for the Mind, Body, Spirit teachers who could meet me where I lived.

I am a natural-born intuitive and evidential medium. I am HeartMath certified and trained in multiple energy modalities — Reiki, The Reconnection, Practical Intuition, and more. My evidential mediumship lineage came through the real ones: Sonia Choquette, Carmel Joy Baird, James Van Praagh, John Edward, Ainslie MacLeod, Wayne Dyer, and Louise Hay. I traveled the world for three years studying with a renowned meditation teacher — sitting in four-hour pineal-gland meditations, in healing pods, in workshops where I watched plasma cloaks of light drape themselves over the people I was holding space for.

I learned every one of them not to build a résumé, but to bring myself home. To rediscover what it authentically felt like to live in my own skin. To feel my own soul. To know what authentic love feels like when it is not being performed.

I have done client work as an evidential medium — readings, holding remote space for families with loved ones in comas, holding space for the dying as they crossed. All in divine white light, in the purest form possible.

For more than twenty years, I have held space for women — on radio, on the road, and on the other side of grief.

I built my own radio show, divinely guided. I was so scared — to speak in public, to read in public, to speak my truth. What was my truth, anyway? I surrendered. That show evolved into a five-host network I ran for three years. Cumulatively, I conducted my own international radio show for 15 years (KKNW Seattle, CBS Radio East Coast) — with a three-year pause to walk my youngest daughter through concussion recovery.

For just under three years in my late 40s, I traveled the world holding space — as Team Leader and Activity Leader — inside seven-day intensive immersion workshops, with thousands of women overcoming their fears and limiting beliefs. I trained hundreds of volunteers and team leaders.

Divorce after twenty-two years. The world came to a halt. My business — gone. My adoptive mother's hidden cancer — then weaponized by the people who were supposed to be "family." All three of my daughters, now estranged. Peri-menopause. Menopause. Hashimoto's. A breast cancer scare. All following my adoptive mother's death and the deep grief and trauma that came with it. The body always knows.

For seven years I was shattered.

I went looking for answers and found a functional-medicine path: full blood panels, a naturopath who listened, real testing, real support. The traditional doctors meant well — they simply did not know what they did not know. I learned to advocate for my own body.

Every morning I wake up already walking with my Divine Team. I say hello. I say thank you. I say love you too. They walk with me to coffee. They bless my morning routine.

In meditation, I lay down and call upon Mother Gaia as she surrounds me in her love nest. Archangel Michael stands at my upper left. The archangels arch to the right like a rainbow, landing with Metatron. Goddess Isis sits above my right shoulder. The Healers — three tall light beings — are always to my left.

I walk every day with my dog Levi. My dad loved Blue Herons when he was alive — so when I see a Blue Heron, it is a sign from him. Then one day I saw a White Heron, and I took that as a sign from my mom. All the signs come in divine timing — I do not see them every walk. When I do, I say Hello Mom. Hello Dad. Thank you for the sign.

There are days I ask the divine for heart-shaped rocks. There is a garden full of them now.

Every meal: thank you, Mother Gaia. Thank you, the chickens. Thank you, the farmers.

This is the Mind Body Spirit HYGIENE™ Method in play.

I was living in Bend, Oregon — divinely guided to move there from over forty years in Washington state, where I had built community and family. I was terrified to move away, so I asked Spirit for a sign that I could not deny. A deer jumped out of the trees in front of me. A grasshopper landed on my car door handle when I returned from my run. There were others, and I looked them all up for clarity and validation. I moved to Bend, Oregon, alone. Scared, and doing it anyway. I surrendered to the greater plan that the Divine had in store for me. The messy middle!

Fast-forward a couple of years. I am in my Bend home. My mother — who raised me — has, unbeknownst to me, been battling cancer for three years. She is now in hospice. And she denies us a bedside visit — herself, and me. She denied herself the closure as much as she denied me.

She crosses just after Mother's Day. I have to put my oldest dog down for health reasons. My Bend home is now rented out. I packed up for a road trip.

I got into my Sprinter van with Levi and started my cathartic drive to find my home (again).

Bend, Oregon to a very special place — Haystack Rock on the Oregon Coast. I stayed there for a few days, walking the beach, crying, talking to her — hurt, angry, in disbelief, grieving. Reminiscing. Through Oregon. Through California. Into Arizona. The whole drive, I could sense my parents were on another road trip with me — like what we would do together when I was a little girl. At one point I think it was Dad who said, take this exit. So I did. A new adventure. I just let Dad take the wheel. Eventually I ended up back on the freeway. The ride he took us on had beautiful scenery and was well worth the detour. Thank you, Dad.

I arrived in Arizona — the place I was born, the place I was adopted from. I eventually sold the Bend, Oregon home, and now I am living back in Arizona.

I had been carrying the manuscript for years. I knew everything was in there. I just couldn't name it.

And then, in Arizona — the homecoming — the divine handed me three words I couldn't have written on my own:

I GET TO.

I get to grieve. I get to rebuild. I get to be guided.