Astara Raven

For those new here, I’d love to introduce myself.

I am Astara Raven. 🐦‍⬛

That wasn’t always my name. In fact, I wrote a whole book about it called How the Stars Tell Time — a cosmic love story about identity, destiny, and time travel.

On my birthday this year, relaxing quietly at a little cabin in the Ozarks, I found myself reflecting on the unexpected path that brought me here.

You may not know that I’m an architect licensed in the state of California who now designs very differently in the heartland of Omaha, Nebraska.

For years, I designed sustainable spaces and places intended to support human well-being and the natural world. 🌿

Alongside that work in eco-psychology, biomimicry, and sustainability leadership, I spent decades studying dreams, consciousness, healing, creativity, relationships, the human psyche, astronomy, quantum mechanics, and what helps people thrive.

Eventually, I realized I was asking the same question in both worlds:

What shapes the shape-maker?

(We’re all shaping our reality.)

Today, my work looks less like designing buildings and more like helping people design their lives.

I write books. I run a consciousness school. I teach. I speak. I mentor. I facilitate sound and healing experiences. I help people navigate transitions, uncover hidden patterns, remember who they are, and reconnect with their own power.

Lately, I’ve been simplifying how I talk about what I do.

Not because the work has become simpler, but because I’ve realized that accessibility and connection create the real magnetism. It’s where everything begins.

So perhaps the simplest introduction is this:

I’m just a woman who designed buildings, studies people, sees patterns, writes books, heals hearts, and helps others navigate life.

I’m glad you’re here and that our paths crossed. ✨🫀

A little light summer reading.
Thank you to and Underwood books for these two treasures 📚

…waiting for me at the back of where Underwood Books winks and waits for you.
(Hours are Wednesday through Sunday 11am-5pm for Omahans who are wanting a summer read)

These books have been calling me for days.
The last time I read them was in college.
I am not that woman anymore.
I’m more me.

As winter turned to spring this year, and I entered our own strange, yet beautiful odyssey.

Two road trips west in the span of 3 months later, we’ve left parts of ourselves by the road.

Old ancient personal traditions are composting even now somewhere in the Cascade mountains of Washington. ⛰️

Months later, we retired more stories as redwood nourishment in the high Sierra’s of California. 🌲

Others were spread like dust in the low desert expanse east of LA, or melted like the marine layer at the Pacific Ocean. 🌊

Miles upon miles, meetups and rendezvous later — all to face mortality of family members, the powerful weave of the storytelling mind, and the tractor beam of time travel in a family system.

Two weeks back, I sat with my cousins in Ojai at dinner and one of their friend’s dropped by with the Iliad under his arm.

My cousin shared this quote like a thespian with smiling flair at the table, “Now go, don’t tempt my wrath - and you may depart alive.”

We all laughed heartily at her booming voice rippling potency.

Here’s the thing.
Parts of us must go.
Like old skin sloughed off by friction and water, parts of us will drop off on the roadside.

The only way we can wake up is through disruption.
Because, as you may have discovered, friction is our ally.
For all our demons are here to greet us as friend.

What’s your summer read?
I’d love to know.