About Me

Hello there!
My name is Jaala — a name I’ve only recently come to truly love. For years, I hated its strangeness and wished instead to be a Jane or Jessica — something simple, something people could spell without asking twice.

When I was born, my father was just 23 and completely besotted with his new baby girl. He decided to knit me a pair of mittens — precious burgundy wool, a little wonky but full of love. While flicking through the knitting book, he stumbled on the name Jaala, which means Divine Surprise — and so that became my name.

Over the years, I discovered Jaala has many meanings: fire, water, rose, spider’s web, she-goat… a strange mix that somehow fits me perfectly. People would always ask where my name came from, so I’d rattle off, like a rehearsed poem, “It’s Indian, Hebrew, Vietnamese, Iranian, and Ancient Egyptian.” I admit I grew tired of the questions — tired enough that I started going by Jazz. Short, easy, memorable.

So I’m Jaala to some, Jazz to most — but whoever I am to you, I’m truly glad you’re here.

Names may change, but the feeling I’ve carried inside me has always stayed the same. For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt like Earth was never truly my home. As a child, I would gaze at the night sky, longing for somewhere I couldn’t quite name — a place that felt like home in my soul. Over time, the ache of that homesickness grew so heavy that I stopped looking up altogether, except for fleeting glances when the stars call me softly.

I’ve always been an introvert, happiest in my own space and company. Even as a child, my mother quickly realised that sending me to my room was never a punishment — it was a gift of solitude I treasured. From the age of four, that solitude was never truly empty, for whenever I was alone, golden orbs would appear. At dusk, as night embraced my room, they would drift and dance around me — tiny pinpricks of light that grew and shimmered, wrapping me in peace and rocking me gently to sleep. As I grew older, the orbs changed too, moving quicker, smaller, as if reminding me that time waits for no one — yet they never ceased to bring me comfort.

When I was about ten, I discovered astrology and tarot cards, and my lifelong journey into the spiritual and unseen truly began. I read everything I could about other worlds, ancient ways, and the wisdom that lives between the lines. Reading cards came naturally to me, and soon I found I could read feathers, charms, water, smoke, patterns, crystals, and dominos too.

My curiosity led me to learn relaxation massage, Reiki, and different forms of energy clearing and healing. I deeply believe that our bodies carry our unspoken emotions, so I studied the teachings of Louise Hay, Annette Noontil, Julia Cannon, and many others who showed us how to listen to our bodies’ whispers before they become screams.

I come from a long line of Māori tohunga — healers and seers — and I hold close the strength and wisdom of my ancestor Kupe, who navigated the stars and captained the waka of the first fleet from Hawaiki to Aotearoa. It’s this same star wisdom I carry with me in my work.

My greatest teacher has been my son, Ashton. He radiated calm and peace, soothing those around him with just his presence. It was always my wish that he would walk this spiritual path beside me. Although his time here ended too soon in 2025, at just 19, his spirit is still very much a part of all I do. In his honour, Ashala was born — Ashton and Jaala forever connected. Ashala, from the Sanskrit Asha, meaning hope, holds our partnership: I work here on the Earthly plane, while Ashton works with my guides from beyond the veil.

Through Ashala, I offer a space where you can set your burdens down and be gently reminded of the hope, peace, and wholeness that is always within you. My wish is for you to feel deeply seen, safe, and supported — to remember that a life of love, joy, and connection is not only possible, but waiting for you.

Welcome home.