“It does not matter how slow you go, as long as you do not stop”. – Confucius
Hi! I’m Steph Churchill – an artist in every sense, a forever “Big Kid,” and a wildly compassionate spiritual teacher and healer. I adore people and animals… and I mean LOVE. As a child, the arts were everything to me. By grade 10, I, unfortunately, abandoned them after being fed the FALSE, outdated narrative from the school system that the arts are “unprofitable” or “irrelevant.” So I stopped studying them. Looking back? What a JOKE. There’s nothing better than tapping into your imagination and letting the inner child out to giggle and play!
At 31, I finally followed my heart instead of the ego-driven chase for money. I became a professional makeup artist and then dabbled in an industry I thought would be my dream come true – the film and television industry. I found myself in front of the camera often during those times, finding others’ reactions to seeing me more entertaining than my own. Something wasn’t sitting right. I felt an emptiness in my soul (that I later realized matched the majority of the superiors’ energy fields that I was forced to deal with). That chapter was eye-opening; it showed me very clearly where real joy comes from… and spoiler alert: it’s NOT the entertainment industry. Joy is born and found within.
Fast-forward a decade. When the Covid pandemic hit, I knew exactly what I needed to do: channel my angels, which I had never attempted to do, and gain some clarity on what my path truly is in this life. I’d always been aware of my spiritual gifts, and this was the moment to stop avoiding them – quiet the chatter-brain, sit still, and commit until something happens.
(Side note: Anyone who reads the Bible or accepts its God-referenced words should remember – those words were channeled too.)
After many hours of meditation, many frustrated tears, and many attempts… It finally worked! In September 2020, a metaphorical chandelier shattered before my eyes, and a message came through loud and clear:
You are to become an author and illustrator of children’s books, helping bring light to this planet through your art and teachings.
I can still hear my response in my loud, booming voice: “HUH???” I mean, I hadn’t drawn anything in 27 years! That was NOT what I expected at all. The floodgates opened. My love for teaching, learning, energy work, yoga, animals, and children – all the purest parts of life – combined with the creative spark I had stuffed down for decades all fused together. That fusion led me to create my very first book. The subject of chakras instantly came forward as the foundation for the teachings, and oh WOW, the colour play is SO much fun! From there came more ideas – uplifting, thought-provoking messages for shirts and art – because spreading joy, with a sprinkle of sarcasm, is kind of my thing. *smile*
- I hadn’t planned on including this, but my year of struggle deserves to be shared. It was tough, but it taught me resilience. May it inspire you to keep pushing forward “like a boss” as well!
Now, the hard truth about life. In the beginning of my creating this book, I lived alone with my kitty, Farley, outside of London, Ontario, which is where the rest of my family lives, and where I was born and raised. My little fuzzy black baby kept me sane throughout the chaos of covid. I was constantly visiting London (once the government claimed we were “allowed” to) and found that paying rent for my apartment was pretty ridiculous being that I was rarely there. Farley had also been adopted in London prior to me moving, so he was a great traveling buddy. My dad had been diagnosed over a decade prior with Parkinson’s disease, and he wasn’t getting any better, so the need to spend time with him was obvious. My parents and I agreed that it would make more sense for me to move into their condo’s basement where I could finish creating and publishing my book, as well as help my mum with caring for my father. Parkinson’s is brutal, let me tell ya. From the start of 2022 to 2025, it goes without saying that witnessing your loved one suffer and their health dwindling day after day is not easy. I won’t get into the specifics, but I already was aware that I had some pretty serious issues with my lower back, and having to pick someone up after falling time and time again (dead-weight at times) made it that much more difficult. My mum was grateful for the muscles and insisted that I get some sort of help for it on her cost. I’ll get to that, but let me say, I’d take that pain over and over compared to the sequence of events that came next.
I didn’t get my shipment of books in time for Christmas 2024, so naturally, they arrived in February 2025, long after the season when you actually want to unveil your shiny new book. My dad was already in rough shape, so there wasn’t much of a celebration anyway. We all were hoping it wouldn’t be his last Christmas, but sometimes reality outweighs hope, no matter how hard you try to pretend otherwise. Then March roles in and my mom decides to do something she had never in her life done before: fall … in the morning … over her dog Gizmo’s bed and snaps her humerus bone clean in half. That’s when it hits me like a ton of bricks: I’m now caretaker for both parents, 2 cats, and a dog. Truly living the dream. April roles around and I willingly and gratefully take my mum up on her offer to find some healing help by going to a spinal decompression clinic. That’s when I found out that I literally do not have any “shock absorbers”, or “intervertebral discs” in my lower spine. None. Bone-on-bone, and I had been operating like this for years. Like any caretaker who loves their “patient”, I just pushed through, trying to ignore the pain. By May, on Mother’s day, of all days, I take Gizmo out for a walk, come home with itchy eyes, and wake up looking like I lost a boxing match I didn’t agree to enter. After getting home from hours at the walk-in clinic with a frozen pound of butter lodged in my eye (that made the nurse behind the desk ROAR with laughter), one of the funniest moments of my dad’s sickness happened right then.
He had fallen again and needed me to lift him off the floor, because clearly my mom, with her broken arm, was basically functioning at “cheerleader on the sidelines” capacity. He hadn’t seen my swollen face yet, so when I leaned over him, he took one look, and said, “Geeeeez-us!!! What the hell happened to you?” I started laughing, explained everything, and then in his tiny, Parkinson’s whisper he added, “You know, it’s kind of funny to think …. if someone came to the door right now and saw the three of us. Me on the floor … you looking like you just lost a scrap, and your mother looking like she gets knocked around.” We howled. My dad had an incredible sense of humour. **Note, I have been through domestic abuse, and I know it is nothing to poke fun at, but a joke is a joke, and hell, that one was funny!**
The truth underneath the joke, however, was clear. His health continued to drop significantly, and in June, after months of deliberation, my “Pops” chose to move forward with the “MAID” program. We initially agreed that Father’s day would be a nice fit so that we may celebrate him every year on “his” day. My Pops was in such rough shape, he actually shaved off a week, by choice, and had it set for June 6, 2025. We, my Mum, 2 sisters + 1 fiance, and 4 nieces, scrambled to try and make sure that everything we ever wanted to say was said … all the pictures possible were taken, etc. etc. before that day, and they were. It truly was incredibly peaceful, and I’ll never forget the warm, fuzzy feeling I got when my pops (who was lying down) looked at my hand that was over his heart, smiled, and whispered, “Chakra”. I beamed and said, “Yes Pops! Your heart chakra.” Moments later, the injection was given and my dad was finally at peace. For those who have been caretakers, you well understand that after your person transforms, there is a period of feeling lost and discombobulated. You really don’t know what to do with yourself for a while. My pops insisted that we celebrate him, and that there be NO sad sob stories posted online (which is not anyone’s style in my family anyway). This is the first I have written about it … tears flowing and all. So the beautiful summer hit and we all did our best to move forward with positive moods and attitudes because that’s what he wanted. On July 1st, I head downtown London, ON to do a bit of celebrating and on my way home …. BOOM. Another curve ball. Anyone over the age of 30 knows that any sort of unexpected, serious fall is not fun to the body … not fun at all. I was riding home, going full speed on my bike, when I hit a bump and saw the sidewalk coming toward my face. All I could hear inside my head was, “NOT THE TEETH!!!” and so, my forearms, neck, shoulders … and ultimately my back took the brunt. Yay! More healing. I had to take it easy, so on a positive note, I fell in love with paddle boarding, and became very bonded with my mum’s dog (who I wasn’t a fan of initially). To no surprise, it was because I found areas where I could let him be the actual dog he is designed to be and let him run off leash. Totally different animal. He became my paddling companion, and I had my Farley to come home to and cuddle (when he’d let me, *wink*).
It felt like things were starting to settle in with the new order in the condo. August hit, and I decided that I really wanted that strong channelling connection back that I had in 2020 so I spent, what is called, “The Lion’s gate” time period (peaking on August 8th every year) deeply meditating, yearning to get my life moving forward in an independent direction. I made it clear to the Universe that I was ready for whatever is set for me on my path. On the night of August 12th, I sat with my kitty as usual on the front porch, but that night, I didn’t take him for a walk the way I usually do, for I had promised the Universe, and myself, that I was going to try and get my hours switched around and that I needed to be in bed by 11pm (early for me being a natural night owl). He was having a lot of fun with all the rare commotion going on in the area, so he decided to stay outside instead of following me in. You know where this is going. That was the last time I saw my baby. It’s one thing to say goodbye to my pops, who chose his date and was ready (as were we due to his suffering), but I did not see this one coming. It ROCKED me, and still does from time to time.
I’ll just make this quick. Whilst bonding with Gizmo over the summer, I also was including my sister’s dog, Teddy with our runs. He was a pleasure in the beginning, but throughout the summer, became increasingly despondent, and difficult. He had been diagnosed with epilepsy and was on meds, but they seemed to no longer be effective. Then, after having to go through surgery for consuming clothing (it sounds funny, but is beyond dangerous and annoying) and my sister forking out thousands to fix him, in September, he got into a LARGE bottle of medication and had to be put down. I don’t know if I have to say anything more for those who have made it this far. June … August … September … 3 boys … gone. Just like that.
It has just been one of those years that make you shake your head and for many, would make them question their faith. My faith and understanding of how this all works is the only thing that continues to get me through. It wasn’t until I joined the London Writers’ Society and met some like-minded people that the spark finally came back – my interest in my book, in writing, illustrating, and in creativity as a whole. It honestly felt like 2 years had passed since the shipment of my beautiful books arrived, not just 8 months. I’m not bragging, but when I opened one up again in October, I’d genuinely forgotten how gorgeous and special it is. After everything my family and I went through, one thing keeps circling back in my mind: my dad never stopped cheering me on. Even on the hardest days, he’d still look over my shoulder, shake his head, and quietly say, “I don’t know how you do it. Good job bud”. I’m beyond grateful I was able to spend those years with him, no matter how taxing they were at times.
I now want to thank you so much to those who took the time to read this extended version. I now have to gather all the tissues, mop up the tears, and possibly send out an apology letter to anyone who was under the impression that this was going to be a light, breezy read. *wink*
“Stay true to your own path and never surrender to the darkness that loathes the POWERFUL LIGHT that you truly are. You ARE energy, you ARE light, and darkness cannot shut off light unless you let it!”