About Joanna Becker

Hi, I’m Joanna.

I believe in a world where our inner voice — the part of us that feels guided, connected, and seen — matters just as much as our work experience or formal training. Whether it’s through meditation, nature, intuition, or prayer, I’ve come to trust the way Spirit speaks quietly through daily life.

I currently practise Angel Mediumship and Sound Healing as part of my personal and professional journey. My path has always woven together creativity, energy work, and entrepreneurial thinking. I’m especially drawn to those who sense a deeper calling in their lives — professionals, creatives, and business founders who speak the language of both purpose and practicality.

Between 2000 and 2024, I built a broad foundation of experience across business, education, and spiritual studies. I hold formal qualifications in management, entrepreneurship, creative writing, and digital marketing, alongside certifications in meditation, stress management, metaphysical counselling, angel mediumship, sound healing, and early childhood education.

I’ve written and produced two children’s books and developed two self-awareness courses. I’ve trained small focus teams in health marketing, supported early-stage business owners with creative direction, and delivered copywriting for both print and digital platforms. Alongside my husband, I’ve also helped build and now co-manage a local trade business — now operating as a registered company — focused on environmental responsibility and civil works. We work closely with local councils and government agencies, and I oversee administration, strategy, compliance, and creative direction as part of our small but capable team.

Across all of this, I’ve followed a thread of intuition, creativity, and quiet leadership — bringing structure to ideas, and heart to the work I do. Whether in writing, business, or personal practice, I’ve learned to trust the deeper intelligence that moves through life, and to meet it with both grounded action and creative openness.

I now call myself a Practicality Entrepreneur — someone who honours creative purpose and spiritual calling, but also understands the importance of compliance, systems, and structure. I support lightworkers, creatives, and small business owners who want to do their work ethically, sustainably, and in alignment with both inner truth and external obligations.

My approach blends intuitive insight with practical know-how — from building a registered company to creating spiritually informed content, without losing integrity or footing in the real world.

Becoming a Lightworker, Channel, Medium

MY INTRODUCTION TO ARCHANGEL MICHAEL

In 2010, something shifted. I began experiencing deep states of meditation that opened parts of me I hadn’t accessed before — physically, emotionally, and spiritually. These moments came with vivid imagery, peaceful inner messages, and a quiet clarity that felt ancient and wise. It wasn’t something I’d sought, but it came with a strong sense of purpose.

What followed was a period of creative awakening. I received guidance through dreams, began writing stories in flow states, and noticed a heightened intuitive sensitivity that shaped how I made decisions and supported others. I became more attuned to energy, connection, and the subtle language of the body and spirit.

Receiving Inner Guidance

One of the most surprising parts of this journey was the clarity that began to come through during meditation. I’d receive specific, supportive insights — often in the form of short, eloquent phrases — about what I or my family needed in that moment. These inner messages were calm, precise, and kind, often arriving with more clarity and compassion than I could have written myself.

Spiritual Awakening alongside Illness

The Early Signals

As my sensitivity deepened, I began noticing the impact of certain foods and substances on my clarity and energy. At first, I believed this was a spiritual shift — part of opening to intuition and energetic awareness. But looking back, I can see it was also physical. My body was already sending signals: early signs of post-natal depletion, mammalian meat allergy, and what I now understand as nervous system dysregulation and dystonia from long-term emotional strain.

It’s taken me time to acknowledge that it wasn’t just spiritual growth. And it wasn’t just a health collapse. It was both — layered, complex, and hard to explain. But both shaped me, and both still matter.

I began making gentle lifestyle changes: removing gluten, sugar, alcohol, caffeine, and synthetic additives, and leaning into a more plant-based, conscious way of eating. These shifts supported my physical wellbeing and helped me feel more grounded and steady in my spiritual practice.

During that season, I often received quiet reassurance from within — a voice I came to know as Myste — reminding me not to fear my sensitivity, but to trust in my body’s capacity to heal.

the CREATIVITY, THE collapse and the consent

It was also during this time that I wrote Dusty’s Wonder Bug — a children’s story that came through direct-voice channelling from Archangel Michael. The original message centred on the importance of natural foods, clean water, and gentle nourishment — honouring a way of eating that supported sensitivity and peace.

Following peer feedback, I revised the story to include references to animal proteins such as chicken, eggs, and seafood — offering a broader view and making it more accessible to families with diverse food traditions. However, I felt a firm spiritual “no” to including mammalian animals as a food source, and chose to honour that boundary in the story’s final version.

In hindsight, I now see that the story held a message I wasn’t yet ready to fully receive — about my own diet. My body was already beginning to react to mammalian meat. The signals were there, woven quietly into the story itself. Ironically, I can read it now and recognise it as almost a lifestyle formula for someone living with mammalian meat allergy — which I was medically diagnosed with four years later, after another tick bite worsened the symptoms and AHPRA began formally training GPs to recognise and manage the condition.

The realisation that the angels were communicating something trustworthy and real came slowly — and not without unconscious, but very tangible resistance. It unfolded alongside the physical experience of living with a condition that, at times, was both life-altering and life-threatening. I was taken to hospital more than once, often treated by staff unfamiliar with the allergy, as it hadn’t yet been widely recognised in Australia. My nervous system crashed and my energy system recalibrated. My family rallied around me until I could become stronger and more determined.

There were seasons where I lived within my healing space for months at a time. I experienced fatigue, anxiety, and moments of emotional depletion that left me searching for stability in my body. All the while noticing achievements, breakthroughs and magical realisations. I remained deeply aware of what was good in my life — especially the gift of being at home, homeschooling my children. Our home life stayed vibrant and full of care, even in the background of these quieter personal reckonings.

I coped by going inward — using deep rest, guided meditation, and, in daily unfolding chapters, adopting complete dietary restriction. The level of vigilance I now live with has reshaped not only how I eat, but how I move through the world — how I understand myself, and how others identify with and interact with me.

Over time, I learned to welcome spiritual guidance more gently. Not just as a reaction to crisis, but as a steady practice — a conscious way of listening. Even when things are quiet and good.

listening through food

Food had always been my pride and joy — a language I spoke intuitively. It was where my creativity, spirituality, and sense of connection all flowed together. So when food became something I had to fear and control, it wasn’t just a lifestyle change — it felt like the angels were interrupting my play in my favourite place. And over time, I came to understand that they were.

Just as others might hear a voice or receive a sudden message, I was shown the need to stop — not in words, but through taste, through digestion, through the act of eating. It was the one place I was always paying attention. And so the angels — or whatever name you give to that quiet knowing — spoke to me through food.

Through that disruption, I began to understand that I was being guided toward something deeper — to live more grounded and present, to grow in compassion, to listen more fully when others shared their stories. And to find the courage to share my own, in a way that might offer others comfort, connection, or hope.

the messy, honest middle

I also learned honesty. I learned to be bold. I learned to set boundaries, to put myself first, and to stop believing everything I told myself. I learned not to take life for granted, not to take myself so seriously, and not to turn spiritual guidance into strict literal expectations.

I used to think I could save myself by doing everything “right” — by following what alternative therapists said, or by making the spiritually aligned choice. But the truth is, healing hasn’t come from perfection. It’s come from learning to meet my reality — to say, “This is my condition,” and choose to work with it, not against it. It’s come from not seeing myself as broken, but worthy of love and respect as I am. And when others offer pity, or a fix, or metaphysical meaning, I’ve learned to listen lightly — because spiritual insight doesn’t always mean I can meditate or manifest my way out. Sometimes, it’s in the acceptance, the daily care, the gentle persistence and commitment to meeting my body where it's at… and then one day, without even realising, I find I’m driving my car again.

I learned how to parent myself — to hold space for the parts of me that were scared, exhausted, or unsure. I began rebuilding an inner relationship with the younger versions of myself, offering comfort and care where I hadn’t known how before. It taught me how to soften, how to speak kindly to myself, and how to love myself with the same patience I’d offer a child.

I’ve adapted. I’ve been reborn into a new version of myself. I’ve slowly, and with care, redeveloped my creative relationship with food. And every day now, when I prepare or eat a meal, I reflect on who I’ve become. My sensitivities — once overwhelming — can feel like gifts. The dark path brought me to a good place.

I carry a light to guide myself, and sometimes, others. But I’m not overconfident or frivolous enough to believe I’m beyond breaking. The truth is, I still crack, and I know I will again — and that’s what helps me stay open.

The tools I’d developed through meditation helped me hold steady when nothing else could. They didn’t prevent the illness — but they supported me emotionally and spiritually. They gave me something I could return to and a way to feel safe within myself in a challenging moment.

the role of spiritual practice

This experience taught me something important: spiritual practice isn’t a shield from life — but it can be a steady support through it. Just because you walk a spiritual path or cultivate inner alignment doesn’t mean you’ll avoid hardship. Life still stretches you. Growth still asks a lot.

That said, I do believe in protection. I’ve experienced the presence of Archangel Michael as a real and helpful support — especially when called upon with clear intention. That energy can feel grounding, strengthening, and calming. It doesn’t override our human experience, but it does remind us that we’re not alone in it.

The angels once told me to call on them the same way I’d call 000 — not instead of human help, but alongside it. They reminded me that while most of us are taught to call a friend or an emergency service, we often forget that spiritual support is available at all times. And it’s not just for big moments. They can help with the everyday — calming our nervous system, easing fear, clearing the energy in a room, guiding the right person toward us, or sending a sign to affirm our path.

Meditating with them has been one of the most powerful tools in my life. I don’t use it to escape reality — I use it to come back to myself, to ask for help, and to feel safe again in my own body. The support is always there. We just have to remember to ask.

It’s not about avoiding reality — it’s about staying steady through it. For me, spirituality is a way to keep showing up when things feel uncertain or hard. It doesn’t mean I get fewer lessons, or that I always handle them well. But it gives me something to return to.

Sensitivity isn’t something that makes life easier or harder — it just means you experience things differently. Some people develop it over time. Others are born with it. For me, it’s both. And I’ve had to learn how to manage it, instead of letting it manage me.

I don’t see this path as something that deserves pity or praise. It’s simply the path that chose me — and the one I keep choosing. Whether change comes gently or through pain, I believe we all get chances to grow. And I’ve stopped asking, “Is it this or that?” Most of the time, it’s both.

Everyone has a journey. Everyone faces challenges — some early in life, some much later. Some storms are visible, others are quiet and internal. I try not to be naïve about that anymore. We all carry something. And whatever your something is — it’s valid. You’re not alone in it.

evolving as an author

Alongside everything unfolding in my body and life, I was noticing how guidance would come through creative material. Sometimes it was through writing — spontaneous words arriving as I typed with my eyes closed. Sometimes it came as audio — a clear, intuitive voice I’d record and transcribe later. Some times it was through music I'd compose in my sleep, and other times in front of the piano while awake, letting my hands play the keys in meaningful ways in front of my half-closed eyes. Other times, guidance would flow through drawing, movement, dance, or meditative reflection.

These experiences weren’t random. I learned how to invite them in with intention, how to stay grounded, and how to return to my day with clarity and ease. Tools like breathwork, visualising tree roots, or touching a salt lamp helped me stay anchored while allowing the creative energy to move.

As I explored these experiences more deeply, I came across others who seemed to receive intuitive insight in similar ways — through writing, dreams, and meditative states. For a time, I felt nourished by that world. I found comfort in voices like P’Taah (via Jani King), Rachel Scoltock, and even in certain pieces of music, which still feel like the most honest channels of all.

supporting my unique path and presence

Over time, I felt a quiet prompting not to overly affiliate or attach myself to collective identities or spiritual labels. It wasn’t fear or judgment. It was soul alignment. A deeper knowing that in this life, my safest, strongest expression would come through grounded practice, clean boundaries, and quiet, individual integrity.

So I made a conscious decision to walk my path without joining a tribe or spiritual collective — not because I don't value others' voices, but because I know the cost of overexposure, and the hazards of group ego. My work is quiet. My space is sacred. My presence is intentional.

I listen, and I create, when it feels right. I listen lightly, and I choose what to carry.

Legally, channelling and angel communication are classified as “entertainment” — and ethically, I believe we each remain responsible for what we choose to integrate. That’s not a disclaimer — it’s a principle of spiritual maturity.

My practice isn’t about claiming authority. It’s about creating sacred space, doing the work quietly, and letting the work speak for itself.

Explore Guided Meditations, Stories, and Quiet Empowerment