I’m Diana, the creator of Remembering Wholeness — a contemplative space where flower photography, reflective writing, sacred song, and spiritual practice meet.

What began as a daily practice with A Course in Miracles has slowly become something more: a way of listening, creating, healing, and sharing beauty.

Some days, a lesson becomes a reflection.
Some days, it becomes a chant or devotional song.
Some days, it simply becomes a quiet companion.

This website is the home for those offerings.

My Creative Process

My work grows from a simple longing: to help myself and others pause long enough to remember the light within.

Photography teaches me to see.
Writing helps me listen.
Music helps the lesson move from the mind into the body.
Spiritual practice helps me remember what has never been lost.

Everything here is offered gently — not as performance, but as practice.

What You’ll Find Here

On this site, you’ll find:

Lessons
Daily reflections and music inspired by A Course in Miracles.

Music
Chants and devotional songs created as companions for practice.

Videos
Visual meditations made with nature imagery, flowers, music, and stillness.

Writing
Essays and reflections on healing, spirituality, creativity, caregiving, and remembering wholeness.

My Story

For much of my life, I moved through the world as a doer.

I learned early how to achieve, how to push, how to become who I thought I needed to be. Beneath it all was a quiet belief that if I did enough, became enough, I would finally feel at peace.

But that kind of peace never truly arrived.

Illness changed everything.

What began as a frightening diagnosis, and later a long journey through misdiagnosis, slowly became something I could never have planned. It became an invitation to stop, to listen, and to question everything I thought I knew about healing.

The body became a teacher.
Fear became something I could no longer avoid.
And control began to soften its grip.

There were moments when everything I had relied on fell away. Moments when I could not think my way through, fix my way out, or push my way forward. In those spaces, something quieter began to emerge.

Not answers.
But presence.

Long before illness changed my life, A Course in Miracles had already found me through the work of Marianne Williamson. At first, it was a teaching I was drawn to. Later, it became something I needed to live. Illness did not introduce me to the Course, but it deepened my need for what it had been quietly offering all along.

A Course in Miracles became a daily anchor, not as something to master, but as something to live with. The lessons began to move from words on a page into lived experience.

Photography became a way of seeing again. Not capturing beauty, but recognizing it. Slowing down long enough to notice what had always been there.

Writing became a place where truth could rise gently to the surface, without force.

And eventually, music began to emerge. Not as something I set out to create, but as something that began to move through me. The lessons started to sing.

What once felt like something to overcome has become part of what opened me.

I no longer experience healing as fixing what is broken.

I experience it as remembering what has always been whole.

This site is one expression of that remembering.

Not a finished story, but a living prayer.