Self Importance Is...

Today is a short and sweet dip into a delicious pond of poetry.

Here’s the thing.

I’ve never been a poet yet my words have always had a lyrical flow to them.

Poetry is about reading between the lines.
It’s about inferring what’s being said.
And, it’s all subjective…

We give meaning to these words just as we give meaning to all things in our life.

I learned from a very wise mentor of mine that nothing has any meaning, except the meaning you give it.

And boy-oh-boy, that’s some hard truth to grasp.

But once understood…
Once you sink into that kind of awareness…
That’s when life becomes a continual skinny-dip into the silky-smoothness that is JOY.

Dive into this short read now and enjoy a moment of delicious space in your day.

It’s time to reclaim your JOY, is it not?

💜

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Self-Importance Is…

Who made you...me…
Universal Queen
B?

Who made you...me…
Keeper of all
Overseer of all
Emotional gatekeeper of the...wall?

I did.
I see the error of my ways
The emotional turmoil
Tossing and turning in waves.
The loss of peace
The constant battle
The disease.

Dis-ease.
That’s what you..I creat-ed
Dis-ease in my environment
My emotional state
Dis-ease in my very being-ness.

Who am I being?
To think I can take on the weight of the world.

The problems of spouse
The emotions of friends
The trials and tribulations of loved ones —
Those here and already gone.

I hold on,
Like a tightly enclosed fist.
Important am I.
Needed am I.
Loved am I.

I matter,
As I carry that weight on my shoulders.

A badge of honor
A battle scar—
No!
A battle cry.

See me — I am great.
See me — I bleed myself dry.
See me. See me! SEE ME!
How irate 
Am I?

That the honors are not bestowed
The metals don’t shine
The heaven’s never seem to part
And deem the world mine.

Yet, uphill I push
Forcing my way
Hubristic am I
More clever than the Universal whole
A hamster on a wheel
Watch me...soar.

Only to spin,
Ablaze.
To crash
Burn
And drop down, down, down —
A sinking stone.
So very low
We go.

I roar.
Yet, unheard I
Feel.
Let down, again
Am I.

The world doesn’t revolve around me
Sigh.

Release the weight
You say.
But then
Who am I?

That weight of the world
Defines me
Is me
Cloaks me
Comforts me
Does it not?

Release the weight
Or seal your fate.
The Universe will survive
She’s not your mandate. 

Release the weight
Note the date.

Be still
Simply await. 
For the Universe is in fact
Perfectly great. 

A sigh of relief?
To bemoan my fate?
I choose now
To be great.

💜

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Photo Credit: Ashton Mullins @ashtonmullins

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What A Third Baby Goat Taught Me About Control (Part 1)

I never gave it much thought, why I wanted FeFiFo to learn how to latch on to the nipple and suck better, until five weeks into “motherhood”. 

But I jump ahead here, don’t I? 

Let me press pause and introduce you to FeFiFo, my second new addition.

FeFiFo is a baby goat who came to me after being abandoned. 

He was found laying by a rock, crying for his mama, while roasting in the hot Caribbean sun. He was filthy and depleted, and I later learned, covered in mites. 

FeFiFo, our very first night together.

Hmm, that’s animal lice, if you didn’t know. 

I picked FeFiFo up on a Thursday afternoon, while carting along Lucky B, my first ‘new-to-me’ addition to my little four-legged family. 

Lucky B, our very first day, about 12 hours old.

Lucky B was not yet 24-hours old, and so flipping cute. He’d been in my care since that morning when I went to check on him and see if his teen-mom had returned. 

Yep, abandoned by a teenage mom, what a story. 

So a quick note on Lucky B, as I know you must be interested...

I’d gone out to enjoy a healthy dinner the night before, at my favorite island restaurant (where everyone knows my name), and it was over my delicious salad that I heard a baby crying.

Well, the first cries happened pre-salad, over wine with good friends for an impromptu dinner date, but I hit pause on my old need-to-save-all-people-creatures-and-the-bloody-world way of being and didn’t run to investigate. 

I’d spent enough time on the island, almost-two-years, to know now that while it sounded human, it was not. 

Plus, I’d work on myself and let go of that seemingly innate need to worry about-all-the-things-all-the-time and martyr myself for others.

Good-bye social worker mentality. 

(Disclaimer so I only receive love notes: I am not dissing social workers, far from it, I am acknowledging that I acted as one when it was not my place to.)

Yet this cry, it was a bit distressed, so even as I hit pause on my old way of running to the rescue, I paid attention. I mean I have mama-ears as I’m a female, so how could I not. 

I made it halfway through my delightful, perfectly-drizzled-with-pesto dressed greens before I simply had to go investigate. 

Okay, it was my choice, but the desire to make sure all was well was stronger than me. 

And I say ‘had to’ it disturbed my ability to sit there and simply enjoy a meal with friends over a glass of wine. 

It was a choice. My choice. 

[Helicopter mom, I feel your pain.]

It took me five minutes to find the cry and just as I was about to turn back, given the lingering silence, the baby called out. 

And it felt meant to be. 

[Ah, self importance? Yep. Just being real here.]

So, a short walk from the restaurant into the parking lot and standing tiptoes to look over a high hill, I came face to face with Teen Mom. 

But silly me, I’d left my iPhone by my salad and it was too dark to check on the baby I knew must be with her or perhaps still half in her. 

So, after a few soothing words to the adolescent, mama-goat, who was standing at attention, either in labor or shock that something had come out of her own body (like I know I would have been), I jogged

(yes, me, I jogged...kinda)

...up the hill to the restaurant, took the ten steps briskly and announced to my friends that I found mama but needed light to see the baby. 

And that’s how the story of Lucky B began… B stands for Brigadoon, that little restaurant I mentioned. 

B also later would come to stand for Beast, Boo, B*tch… and so many other fun words! 

But this isn’t about Lucky B and his story. That will come. 

This compilation of words is about my reaction to how FeFiFo chose to suck, or not suck his milk from a bottle. 

And how I wanted to control his way of being. 

This is about how it’s a “norm” for the nipple to be sucked straight on and not from the side of his little mouth. 

Says who? Says the vet. Says others with goats. Says all. 

Except the one who matters most… FeFiFo.

How often do we fall into doing things the “right” way without first giving thought to — “Well, what even is the ‘right’ way?”

Without asking “does ‘right’ even exist?”

And never pausing first to check in with our gut, intuition, that sense that is within all of us. 

See, that’s truly the only thing that is RIGHT.
Your inner knowing. 
And it’s right for each one of us yet also different for each of use. 

My ‘right’ way of thinking or being or feeling or acting or reacting or doing might be the total opposite of your ‘right’ way… 

And we make that wrong. 

We unknowingly take this way of thinking, taught to us early on by our parents...

Who only knows what they know when they know it so no blame and no shame here… 

We unknowingly learn this way of being in school, where all are taught to act one way… line up one way… sit one way… raise our hands one way… ask for permission for every little thing, the same way...

And that way is dictated by society, by being ‘civilized’ and also by the individual teacher. 

Parents, did you catch that?

Why do we interview employees who go through the interview process but we as parents don’t think to interview our child’s teacher. 

The one other person your child will spend so much time with and be influenced greatly by...

[Ah, the Education Lady popped out there for a moment!]

Fun side story... 

I remember listening to the Frenchman tell his son to put soap on his hands first, then wet them, or was it the other way around? 

Anyway, I clearly saw it, in my mind, as personal preference, and paid attention because the husband got a bit annoyed, not typical of him at all, when his son continuously did it in what his father thought of as the ‘wrong’ way. 

Or was it one more nail in the not listening coffin…who knows. But it’s curious to step back and think

Well, what’s right here? 

At that moment, the kid was 15. His way, as long as no harm or foul was being caused, was the right way for him, was it not? 

I mean, take to say it but hands get clean whether soap goes on them first or water, as long as one knows both are needed to get the job done. 

I think, at 15, he’d figured that little factoid out. 

So back to FeFiFo, this multicolored bundle of cuteness and dirt. 

Well, FeFiFo has been a rebel, from day 2. 

See, I took him home Thursday afternoon and allowed him to get used to me a bit that day and the next. 

Meaning, I didn’t try to clean him much, didn’t force a bottle on him and didn’t push myself on the frightened little dude. 

I offered and allowed him to sink into my presence and be.

No force. 

Plus, I was also busy with the other little dude who was under a day old. And super cute. And, I admit, very clean… 

Which meant FeFiFo didn’t eat, didn’t take to the bottle like Lucky B had that morning in all of two minutes. 

Wasn’t even ‘slow on the uptake’ like my original Moo Baah had been, who went for it in all of ten minutes. (Yet, at that time, I thought it took Moo Baah forever!)

Impatient much? Ah yeah, that was my old way of being!

FeFiFo was determined to do it his way… which to me looked a lot like starvation, but I also knew enough to know I can’t eat his food for him and when hungry enough…

At least I sunk into that knowing for a while and then I lost my peace and I pushed a few syringes full of water on him… 

Because seriously, dehydration is a thing.

So FeFiFo and Lucky B took up residence in my home starting Thursday and I thought nothing of slipping out Friday evening for a quick 20-minute trek to grab healthy take-out from a local bar called Swinging Doors. 

Eddie made the best chicken on the island, a serving size enough to last me three meals. No joke. 

Only offered Friday night, this did end up being my last meal “out” before the world shifted on its C-19 axis, but I didn’t know that at the time. 

I simply ran in, shared I had two new-to-me baby goats and that Moo Baah was still king of my world, and then headed home with my order. 

Again, when I say ran, run or moved fast that is a figure of speech. I am a walker. I can be a brisk walker, but a walker is I. 

I drive Mz. Smart, that’s my little red SMART car’s name, back to my cottage and hear Moo Baah hollering, accompanied by baby cries, before I even round the corner down to my place. 

Moo Baah prances out to greet me, all happy, frisky, excited and baah-ing up a storm. Vocalizing his displeasure with me leaving him alone, I’m sure. 

But as we walk together up the hill and to the gate, the baby cries are pretty loud. Surprising set of lungs on my new addition.

I know, leaving infants home alone even for 20-minutes, so not cool. And I didn’t even quarantine — I mean, isolate them — in a bathroom or somewhere. 

I assumed, so small, what harm can come. 

Well, I open my gate allowing Moo Baah to enter first, simply because he has flipping horns, to see FeFiFo, who’d yet to be named, in the front YARD.

Baahing bloody murder 
Or Maaaaa
And coming toward me at full baby run.

Well, I managed to shut the gate and walk ahead of Moo but missed catching FeFiFo who ran past me to, oh sh*t, Moo Baah — Daaaad.

Ah yeah, confused. 

Well, Moo was not impressed and proceeded to head-butt the little sucker, gently, but it was a warning for sure, and just about stopped my heart.

Side note, FeFiFo weighed maybe 1.5 kilos at this point, which is what? 3 pounds. And Moo Baah, he’s a good 60 lbs. 

So yeah — heart-stopped. 

Working hard not to yell at Moo, I juggled my chicken dinner, protected myself from horns, and scooped up a now-terrified (my interpretation) baby goat while hightailing it to the kitchen door… 

With big Moo Baah in toe probably thinking — game!

It was a juggle to not drop dinner, baby, water bottle and open my double dutch door all before Moo Bahh and his horns could get too close. Not that he’s mean, mind you, he’s just...well, a goat. 

So, I treat him as such, minus all the love and conversations. 

Meaning, he’s a wild animal who’s been ruined, I mean, domesticated. 

Goats head-butt and use their horns. I can not get mad at him for having his natural goat reactions to things...even when it puts me in ‘danger’. 

Or puts little FeFiFo in jeopardy. 

Speaking of, they spent up to 20 minutes together in my (thankfully) walled yard, before I arrived. 

So how did FeFiFo get outside when the door was closed? 

Great Q and how he got the Fe in his name.... 

[ Read Part 2 Now. I know you want to. ]

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What A Third Baby Goat Taught Me About Control (Part 2)

Yesterday I introduced you to my hooved family of goats and it all started with the line…

I never gave it much thought, why I wanted FeFiFo to learn how to latch on to the nipple and suck better, until five weeks into “motherhood”. 

I don’t know about you but with that opener, I’d be pressing pause here to read Part 1 and catch the heck up. You can access the beginning right here. 

Now to recap quickly, FeFiFo was outside with Moo Baah for up to 20-minutes and, thankfully unharmed by the bigger, domesticated beast, while I drove into town. 

[This is Moo Baah below. You judge the size difference for yourself!]

First Meeting Between Moo Baah and FeFiFo

So how the heck did he get outside? Because nope, I did not leave doors open to my island cottage…even though it is a safe paradise!

As we both ponder that for a second, let’s go back to the second question you might be having and that’s how he came by his name - FeFiFo.

Big name. Little dude. 

And well to share that, we must dive back into the story of me arriving home, opening my front gate with Moo Baah in tow, to find FeFiFo, the itty-bitty-baby there, outside and seconds later, head-butted by my original, full-grown goat. 

Yes, my heart all but stopped and then pounded double time as I scooped FeFiFo, did my juggling dance, and rushed into the cottage...Moo Baah on my heels. 

And left at the kitchen double-dutch door. I took a pause, a space, a breath, to collect my peace, still my racing pulse, and NOT revert back to the old pattern, which might have actually been to scream at a little, baby goat. 

Out of fear, mind you. But still, not helpful. 

Because when in fear, sometimes we let it rip, am I ‘right’ or am I ‘right’?!

The old me, totally would have had a meltdown.

The new me simply checked on Lucky B, the still tentative in movement black-bundle-of-shininess, who moved my way on awkward infant legs with little squeaks and baahs.

With FeFiFo, still cradled in my hairs, dinner deposited somewhere, and Moo Baah, the big beast on the other side of the door, I scooped up Lucky B and all but collapsed into a chair facing the ocean. 

[Statement of fact, not a brag, all chairs have an ocean view. Ahh… life is good.]

I cuddled both babies, as I took deep breaths, after first and giving FeFiFo a gentle pat down… 

Yep, I admit it. I checked for blood. 

And felt his racing heart, so hummed to him, as we three chilled in a chair and I surveyed the cottage. 

Not. A. Thing. Out. Of. Place. 

Not even a pee-puddle to clean up. 

So how the heck had FeFiFo gotten out..? I stared out the open windows as a tropical breeze drifted my way and thought, no f-ing way. 

Turns out it was the only way… and how he came to have a Fe added to the already present Fi of his name…

So now back to how FeFiFo came by the Fe.

Turns out FeFiFo must have FEARLESSLY jumped out the frigging window and sailed at least four feet to the ground. 

Okay, four feet, not much, right? Not when you’re five feet tall or more! But remember, this is a day or few-day-old baby goat here! 

A Baby!

Ouch.

Not only did he jump out the window and dive down to the ground, but inside he had to have jumped up onto something to get to the window that sits three feet off the floor. 

Talk about FEARLESSNESS and FORWARD thinking…

Man, I thought I was advanced, running away from home, with my Snoopy suitcase, when I was maybe six. 

Looks like I was a bit delayed compared to this little guy. 

Which leads me to circle back around to what I naturally, without conscious thought, did… 

Compare myself to others. 
Compare others to others. 
Compare. Period.

I started to compare little FeFiFo to Moo Baah. 

Moo who never jumped on any surface till he was three or four months old. For real.

Hmm, delayed, slow learner. Like his human mama, me, who was put in special ed, when there was nothing special about it! 

[ It was for the ‘slow’ kids back in the day, you-young-reader-you! ]

And there I go again. Comparing!

And don’t even get me started about Lucky B and his ability to jump. OMG, he is on every surface including the back of my sofa, my table, my desk... within a few weeks… 

Thankfully, he hasn’t been able to reach the kitchen counters…yet.

I kid you not.

And that’s now, but back then, back then Lucky B wasn’t yet steady on his feet and FeFiFo was running every which way.

And jumping out windows!

So now I compare FeFiFo with Lucky B’s growth and progress. There it is again, that thing we do — compare one thing or person to another. 

What good comes from comparing ourselves to another or our situation to another’s? Seriously, nothing good.

And if we’re not careful that leads to judgement, does it not?

When FeFiFo came to me he was slightly older, stronger, more mobile and interested in grass. As in he knew that grass was munch-able, he’d been around it, in it, but he wasn’t yet consuming it. 

He still needed milk.

But this showed me, he spent some time with his real mom, as a goat, before he came to be adopted by me. 

But slowly, as he refused to drink from a bottle, he lost energy. 

I had to use a syringe to get some water in him and then try some milk. 

At this point, he thought I was mom, so he wasn’t fearful of me, since meeting me at my gate, but he wasn’t a snuggle bunny like little Lucky B...yet. 

He was however filled with what I’d call anxiety. What I could only classify as separation anxiety.

[Baby goats are often left by mom to cry while she goes off to browse for food. It’s best to let the baby goats be as usually mama comes back. But sometimes, life happens… and well, a baby goat, alone, crying in the hot sun, after more than six hours, now pacing and looking for mama, yep. This is when humans tend to intervene.] 

Literally, he didn’t let me out of his sight. And when I moved too fast and he lost me, he’d immediately start crying and racing to find me.

As far as feeding, he started to gnaw on the nipple but didn’t seem to understand the concept of sucking. 

And this became a problem.

First, he wasn’t getting nutrients and would soon get weaker. 

Second, he was shredding my nipples and I only had so many!

FeFiFo was more interested in wedging the plastic between his back “molars” —

[ which I know is not the correct term for goats, but serves a purpose for all of us to comprehend, does it not? so-just-let-the-inaccuracy-go, Mr. and Mz. Farmer! ]

— to chew the damn thing. 

He went through two nipples like this, in a day, before I could say Noooo! Absolutely destroying them. 

Ah, yeah, sharp little teeth. 

Simply put, he was doing it all wrong. 

[Important, what I just said here, did you catch it. I’ll say it again and then circle back around…]

Simply put, he was doing it all wrong. 

He wasn’t able to suck from the front and I wasn’t convinced he was sucking very well from the side when he wasn’t killing the dang nipple.

I had a local Goat Lord (inside joke), excuse me, goat farmer share I should tickle above his tail and make sucking sounds, as that’s what the mother does. And this then prompts something in the baby to jumpstart his natural survival instincts.

One of which is to suck!

I figured Lucky B had the sucking sounds down pat, as he was chugging his milk like a pro. FeFiFo would hear that as they were side-by-side at all times, so I did the tickle motions but got nada.

I admit there was frustration on my part. 

I mean Lucky B was just so easy...latching on and done. Doing it right.

[Oh boy, did you catch it?!]

Even Moo Baah, who used to try my patience, but I was a different, impatient, emails-are-more-important-that-spending-twenty-minutes-bottle-feeding-you-damn-it, version of me back then, did it right.

I mean, I bottle fed Moo Baah for more than six months — yeah, we only know what we know when we know it.

And now I know that we wean goats off the bottle around three months of age…

But it’s worth a pause and a laugh to imagine a forty pound male goat, with long horns, trying to jump up in my lap while making baby sounds.

Cute as hell. Ridiculous as anything.

Are you hearing me here?!

Two years ago, I had trouble being kind and present. 

Present with myself, with a baby goat who was relying on me for survival, and present in the moment. 

Any moment. 

Now, being present wasn’t the issue. Nope, I was present with FeFiFo.

And I judging him. 

[ gasp ]

Getting real here...

His name shows just how much. 

Fe for Fearless. He flew out a window, ya’all. 

Fi. At first, this was what I called him and it was short for Dignified. 

He was. Or so I judged him to be.  Always slightly apart, aloof, separate from Lucky B and myself. 

Remember, Lucky B was less than 16 hours old when I picked up FeFiFo after he was rescued by a friend. 

He was older. Probably scared, hungry, tired, filthy and surrounded by everything new. 

From people to a car ride to another baby goat to being inside instead of roaming free with his goat mom. 

Talk about a recipe for stress. 

Plus, he’d just been alone, crying, for more than six hours in the sun — and animals are feeling beings, yo!

There I go comparing goat emotions to human emotions.

But this is what we do, is it not?

It’s no wonder the little guy didn’t take to drinking from a bottle. Unlike Lucky B, who maybe only experienced nursing with his goat mom once, directly after birth, FeFiFo had definitely had more opportunities. 

And, I believe, more memories.

Soon, that Fi also stood for Defiant, as he defied me at what felt like every turn. 

Way to make it personal, Jill!

Yes, I talk to myself and this was a slip back into WTF Land. Thankfully, one I caught and nixed, fast. 

But still, in complete transparency, that’s how he got his name. Me judging him.

As I already mentioned above, the Fo came from my sense of mad-humor to be frank… thinking he was Forward thinking, to fly out a window after me. He was actually aware, looking around and considering options. 

Ah, smart! So yes, while funny, there was truth to that Forward Thinking judgement.

I often caught myself saying things to him like For Real, Dude? each time he refused the bottle.

And Fo’ Sure (with a head nod moment from Snoop Doggy Dog, of course) as that too became a staple of my one-sided banter with the painful brother.

During the course of the first week, FeFiFo literally lived on a syringe of milk here and there and me struggling to get him to take milk from his mouth, not while chewing the nipple to the side.

It was a constant battle of wills. His and mine, as Lucky B downed his milk at rapid speed and packed on the pounds.

Was it perfect? No.

Did he suck the “right” way? No.

Did it matter? No. 

Now I’d like to say this is the happy ending to the nipple-chewing, non-sucking story of FeFiFo, but it’s not. 

Not by a long shot.

At one point his tale got worse. A tummy full of trapped air, milk and greens and the local vet pumping his stomach while I held him.

So. Not. Cool. 

Gag reflex, suffering, holding an animal down. I don’t know who suffered more. Him or me. 

All this to say, FeFiFo has not been ‘easy’.

And I was told, if he hasn’t figured it out now, he won’t. 

And I listened. 

All this as Lucky B grew bigger and stronger than FeFiFo, the older one by at least a few days. 

At first Lucky B was my jam, the baby, and FeFiFo, by choice at first, was the outsider.

And then things switched.

Lucky B started to investigate away from me more but was still at ground level, not yet able to jump like FeFiFo did with ease. But I judged Lucky B for not jumping up in my lap.

[Sigh and a dash of grace here. Grace and forgiveness for myself as I write these words of truth in the hopes they impact you too.]

All this happened as I focused more on FeFiFo out of necessity and thought Lucky B, an infant goat, had become more independent, not wanting snuggle time with me, as he didn’t jump up on my lap like FeFiFo.

(insert palm smacking forehead)

Oh hell, I somehow missed the memo baby goat. 

And not all goats are created equal, gasp, much like people. 

I mean FeFiFo went out a window after me, so surely if Lucky B wanted love he’d jump up on my lap like FeFiFo now at every opportunity.

[Head.Meet.Table.Hard. With a very loud and painful thud.]

Sometimes…

Sometimes I question the need for all that education, all those degrees because truly, it’s the little things that matter.

The most important things, never taught but so needed, desired and sought out desperately as we age which are those bits of gold… 
…that make life work, 
…make us special, 
…allow all to flow. 

FeFiFo needed me. So my attitude shifted in how I viewed him. Suddenly he wasn’t so aloof.

Suddenly, I was busy focusing on FeFiFo’s lack of eating, so I wasn’t bending down to scoop up Lucky B at every opportunity I could for a quick or long snuggle.

Suddenly, FeFiFo became a clinger and when I sat, he jumped and sat too. Right on me.

Suddenly, Lucky B took a backseat and instead of seeing it, acknowledging it, I blamed him for it.

I called him independent. I felt that I was no longer needed… so I emotionally cut a few ties… 
To protect myself. 
From what? 
From attachment. 
From the plan of him pulling away… 
From feeling, period.

Over the last 6 weeks today, I have watched myself judge first one baby and then the other. 

I have seen the stories I have told about each. 

I have sunk into my favoritism of first one…Lucky B over FeFiFo…

Come on now, it happens with human babies too and it’s okay. We simply think it’s not, sweep it under the proverbial rug and pretend it doesn’t exist. But it does and I’m not afraid to be human and say it.

...And then favoritism of the other. FeFiFo.

My favoritism fluctuated around feeling needed. 

I have seen my desire to be needed, wanted met first by Lucky B and then by FeFiFo, out of necessity…

I have acknowledged the limitations, the stories, the interpretations, the crap... I put on each of the two little goats and how it played out in their growth, their behavior and their development. 

And how it played out for me...

I have experienced just how much I wanted to control it all…

From how FeFiFo nursed to my schedule, which let me tell you, got jacked-up since the ‘twins’ arrival. 

Moms, I feel you. Dads, you too.

And to think I could have done this judgey thing, control thing with a human kid… cue a moment of guilting thinking over what doesn’t even exist! 

And yep, STOP IT, JILL! rings loud and clear in my brain just seconds after those ‘what if’ thoughts… thoughts that used to sap my energy and now just land like a nat to be laughed at and swatted away.

[Deep breath in and letting that sh*t go…]

What I had to look at is this… 

What if the point of life, now more than ever, is coming to terms with the realization, not the fact, that I control nothing?

Control is but an illusion. 

And one that keeps us trapped in limited thinking. 
Limited doing behaviors. 
And robs us from being who we can step up and be. 

The idea of control robs of us JOY.

The belief that we control anything steals precious moments from us where we could be but aren’t living in the moment.

Control is really a disguise for not wanting to feel the feels. 

Like impatience. 
Like grief. 
Like anger.
Like sorrow.
Like fear. 

I was super impatient with FeFiFo, although 1000x better than I was two years ago with Moo Baah. But my impatience and control played out in there being a right way and a wrong way.

And if he’d just get it right, we could get this show on the road, he’d eat, be okay and we’d move on to other things.

If he’d do it right, I wouldn’t have to worry about him. I wouldn’t have to feel that emotion and then practice allowing it to drain from my body because I do now know it doesn’t serve me.

But in the moment, when you have a sick baby or one who’s not eating, it’s more difficult to just breath that sh*t away!

Yet, possible as all is choice.

There was a bit of grief here that felt selfish, if I sank into it. The loss of my time, my clean home, my way of life which, before the twins, was my way, period. 

Plus, that grief is compounded by a ton of other sh*t right now.

Like how life, on a global scale, has changed, shifted, scattered. For some even shattered - seemingly. And it’s okay to grief things like lost trips, no hugs, not being able to move as freely about in the day as we once did, or for some, such as I, at all.

The anger, yes, it was there, too. Anger over the loss of what was and my inability to control every-little-thing and get FeFiFo to eat, damn it.

See, anger. 

There was also sorrow for the fact that FeFiFo lost his goat mom and Lucky B was abandoned by a Teen Goat Mom. 

The empath in me recognized that and celebrated that I felt it, released it and didn’t spin it into a story of despair to dine on endlessly and share with all, as I would have in the past.

I would have believed that thinking that way made me such a feeling, caring, giving person, better than others, in fact. 

[Oh yes, meet my ego. More deflated now than she was. But still, she lingers.] 

In reality, that old way of being and thinking never built me up. In the short term it made me feel important and special on some level. 

Yet in reality, it was leaking my energy for no reason at all. It was depleting me to the point I was unable to even take care of myself let alone others… 

And here I was someone who wanted to save the world…
Who carried the weight of the world on her shoulders…
Celebrate me. 

Thankfully, that me, is version 1.0 and no longer one a way of being that I tolerate.

Fear.

Fear was something I used to live in and was as comfortable as a favorite hoodie or sweater. Thankfully, it’s no longer snuggable to me, but it did creep up. 

A baby goat can’t go without milk for long...what if..?
Sudden bloating, pain...
Did I seriously rescue this little dude just to watch him die..? 

To fail…

Which brought up my old stories, just for a quick second, of being a failure.

Ah, yeah, that ship has sailed and been sunk in the deepest waters of an ocean in a galaxy far-far away. 

Seriously.

But the mind, the mind is a tricky thing that tried, many times, to take me down a rabbit hole, but thankfully... 

Thankfully, I have grown and saw my slips and dips for what they were. 

Momentary blips into fear and I choose peace. 
Momentary lapses in wanting to control and I choose to allow instead. 
Momentary hiccups into judgement and I choose to acknowledge and simply be.

Be in what is. 

And when I did this. 

Answers came. 

When I did this, FeFiFo took to the bottle, for me, his way.

When I did this, suddenly, FeFiFo, in week 6, yo, started to suck down his milk, full on from the front of his tiny snout — is it a snout?

All because I stopped listening to the well-meaning advice of others. Even the professionals. And sat quietly with him and with myself.

And when an intuitive hit came (again) to go find the spare bottle and nipple I had for Lucky B, a different brand, model and make, I listened.

And when I considered (again) opening up the hole, just a bit, I didn’t think naah again and dismiss the guidance. I listened.

I stretched the hole and tried.

Nothing.

I snipped the hole just a bit, widening it enough so I could see without glasses that it was different from Lucky B’s untouched nipple…

I was down to two. One for each goat.

[Quick reminder. There’s no Walmart down the street on my little 5-square mile island and we’re currently on lockdown. So nothing but food and medical deliveries for the next two weeks. Meaning, I can’t leave my yard, so finding another nipple — not-gonna-happen.]

I chose to lean in — all in — and trust. No saving that second Lucky B nipple for a what if, rainy-day scenario.

I took scissors to it and followed my gut.

And tried again.

And FeFiFo sucked. Naturally. Instinctually. Learning within just 24-hours how to down the bottle as fast as Lucky B who’d had 6 weeks to turn pro.

I learned everything is energy, well, this proved it once again.

All I had to do was shift my energy…and everything else adjusted.

Because it had to. All is energy.

Sinking into BEING had even more rewards…

When I did this, Lucky B suddenly was no longer an ‘independent’ infant but my snuggler. I simply had to lean down and pick him up until he learned to jump… 

Ah, is the Universe having a laugh at my expense now. This sucker is a jumper! Fo’ Real. 

When I did this, Moo Baah stopped pacing the property with loud, concerned Baah-ing and curled up on the kitchen step like my personal Sentinel. 

Night and day Moo Baah laid guard on the doorstep, when not leaving for his three-hour meals in the field a few times a day.

When I did this the tension flowed from my body, tension I didn’t even recognize was there… 

It’s hard to see the water when you’re drowning in it, is it not? 

When I took a beat... 

When I leaned in and stopped pushing on the pull door of life,
I found my center… 

JOY.

And I started to enJOY each moment… even the ones with spilled milk from sideways-nipple-sucking to a baby-goat-face in my coffee to having green hair from someone chewing on it while re-chewing their own curd at the same time. 

Because really, life is about the moments.

And these moments, each of them, are truly precious. 

💜

---

How I Fell Into My Coaching Practice...

I've been a coach for more than twenty years and it all began by chance. 

I was at a publishing house, about to look over galleys of a novel I’d written under another name, with my agent. She, of course, was running late as most dedicated New Yorkers often are, so I was ushered down a spacious hallway and asked to wait in a conference room...“just there at the end”.

I entered an occupied room... the wrong one... to find a rather frazzled individual all but ready to toss his physical manuscript out of the 36-story window.

Luckily for all involved, the windows didn't open and, instead of him trying to break the glass with his balled fist, we shared an awkward moment which turned into a deep conversation about this tricky thing called writer's block. 

I didn't know who this guy was at the time, as he was simply the epitome of exactly how a struggling artist would have been cast in a feature film. 

From wrinkled button-down to flip flops (uh, dude, it was winter) to three days worth of facial hair, blood-shot eyes and hair sticking out as though he'd tried to fry himself one too many times. 

He was a walking, talking disaster. 

And great fodder for my writer's mind... 

Let's call him Tom and put him in his early 30s. 

Well, I was just a girl in my mid-twenties, awkwardly walking in 2-inch heeled boots while carrying an oversized, leather bag, as was the then style - don’t judge.  

A purse I couldn't wait to unload onto a chair, as it was all but cutting off my damn circulation. 

Tom proceeded to brain dump his issues as I deposited my bag with a thankful sigh. 

He was the cliché of a published, successful first-time writer struggling with his sophomore book. I didn’t dare tell him it was cute and so normal because he so felt like his pain was unique. Special even. 

And as I listened, I wondered why I'd never fallen into the trap myself. See I was there on my 7th title, but I didn't tell him that little tidbit. 

Never poke the bear. 

I listened and instead of sinking into his despair or showing pity for his plight, (he later shared), I asked him about why he wrote, who he impacted with his words, and why he was choosing to be a self-ish ass.

Okay, the last is a bit embellished, as it's not my nature to be confrontational, but something I did say worked for him. 

About 30 minutes into our chat, his eyes brightened, something clicked and he started scribbling frantically on the back of those recent, ready-to-be-tossed pages as though his life depended on it. 

Completely understanding this creative taking-over, I sat back and let him write, content to just ponder my upcoming meeting and a new idea swimming in my mind.

A struggling writer in a wrinkled shirt meeting the publisher who rejects his book flat out.

I still smile thinking about that plot…did I ever write the story?

Hmm…

I realize now, with distance and maturity, that I wowed him into seeing he had a choice to get back to telling his story and impacting his readers or not. 

It was really that simple.

But when we’re in the proverbial-black-hole, sometimes we can’t see the rope we know is there and pull ourselves out… 

Sometimes someone else has to come along and literally tie the damn thing around your neck so you can wake up enough to feel it. 

That was my role that day, as I waited for my agent and my own meeting about my own words of impact, and possibly taking on a role of collaboration for another who didn’t have the ability to string words together. 

We all have our gifts.

In case you missed the memo, words are my SuperPower. 

And well, after Tom started singing my praises from the publishing-house chandeliers like Sia, and thanking everyone on that floor for the brilliantly-awesome (his words not mine) writing-coach they'd sent in to “pull his head out of his arse”, I found myself suddenly donning a new hat. 

A coaching hat to be specific. 

And if I hadn’t been such a meek, little, people-pleaser, afraid to say no, and all-but-apologizing for the air I breathed, yet forceful and confident when sharing about words and the craft, I might have had a panic attack and run screaming from the building. 

But that wasn’t an option. Saying no, to just about anyone and letting them down, at that time in my life… simply not an option. 

And thus, The Writing Doctress was born.

Or that's what they called me while I blushed and hemmed and hawed a bit…I mean, come on. Who was I?

And then my agent set me straight.

I was the writer without a sophomore slump, contracted for three more f-ing books. She all but yelled in my face, red lipstick so chic and proceeded to sucker-punch my forearm.

I think I still have the bruise. 

She said yes for me and negotiated my new “coaching to the rising writing stars” contract, and of course took her then 10% cut.

So, thus began my journey as a private coach within the secret walls of first, one publishing house, and then I was shared with a few others. 

Writers and creatives became my stomping ground for listening, coaching them out of writer's block, their shared fears, and the limiting stories they chose to tell themselves...

And occasionally I ended up “coaching” an editor or executive out of 'a what the hell am I doing with my life?' crisis moment. 

I put coaching in quotes because these were often stolen waiting-room-moments between signing contracts, reviewing words and meeting with potential writing clients.

But I learned early on that an outward appearance of success was a fragile and often misleading thing. 

Why do I share this tale of my beginning days as a coach for word-artists? 

Well, the reason is two-fold.

One, I’d like to start a little game on this site called Fact or Fiction. 

Whenever a post has this category, you decide if it’s Fact or if it’s Fiction and leave a comment to cast your vote. But you gotta share your reason in at least one complete sentence or more!

Now will there be a winner-winner-chicken-dinner?

You tell me!

People love to win but I’ve never been much for games. Ah except for playing UNO with my grandmother. Now I distinctly remember a conversation I had with her when I was about 6 years old, and she reminded me and everyone who would listen to it as often as possible.

“Grammy, I’ll only play UNO with you if I win!”

So there you have it. I was a control freak as a little kid.

Sorry, not the point!

Yes, there will be a WINNER.

What they will get, who the heck knows but that’s not the point, right?

I mean we’ve all heard it’s not about the prize but the journey to get there… Ahh, are you fed up with that stuff too?

Some it’s crazy-talk, but real personal development, that’s the reason I’m able to now write these words, share this tale and publish under my name. 

I don’t know about you but I like ‘em apples. Okay, enough Good Will Hunting. 

As for a prize, each quarter I’ll don my Word Doctress Coaching hat and offer one Lucky B a 30-minute coaching call absolutely free (that’s high value, yo!) to talk writing or to discuss being the creator of the story of your own life and to say adios to living someone else’s version of your script… or anything you desire.  

If that sounds like a plan… case your comment below and vote. Winner for this Fact or Fiction offering will be chosen on June 1st. 

You must be a subscriber to Wednesday Words so that you see the announcement and make contact to claim your price!

It might also help to follow me on INSTA. Just saying. (And yes, this is a shameless plug!) And yes, JOY-Subscribers, you may enter and play! Want to know what a JOY-Subscriber is? Find out all the deets right here.

The winner will be posted on INSTA and in our Wednesday Words Newsletter. It’s up to the winner to come forward and claim his or her prize!

POST SCRIPT
In Case You Think I Forgot, I Didn’t.

The second reason I shared this tale is to show that no one fully has their sh*t together.

Not even those who may LOOK incredibly successful or have the perfect life on the outside.

We are ALL a work in progress and YOU, my friend, has just as much right to be fully here in this life as the “successful” person you perhaps admire and think, but I could never do that.

What if today you started from a place of YES, I CAN! And simply choose to step out and show up as you.

Now that’s a powerful place to BE coming from, is it not?!

💜

---

Photo Credit: Mimi Di Cianni @mimidicianni

---

When I Found JOY...

See, little did I know that JOY was one of my TOP VALUES, if not the highest of them all.

Yet now, looking back, I can see the magic that is JOY in my life. When things didn’t work, there was no JOY present. 

Whenever I was sick, which was all throughout my teens and twenties…
And even into my thirties...
Yep, a lack of JOY.

It’s so incredibly simple yet I made it so very hard. 

When I work from JOY, everything flows. 

When I live from a place of JOY, my world expands.
When I love from a place of JOY, all is possible.
When I give from a place of JOY, boom… 

Cue purple faerie dust and all things that sparkle!

But let’s focus on you…
As this article is all about the JOY I wish to share with you today…

And that comes in the form of my SuperPower…
Words.

When I write, I write with utter JOY and thus it works.
Words pour out of me, stories unfold, copy runs wild and everything ALIGNS...

From my very cells
To the sun, the moon, the stars
And all my wants, desires and needs in between. 

All are met with grace, with ease, with dare I say it…
Delicious JOY.

See the Universe knows the secret of me. 
JOY is my fuel... 
To greatness

JOY is my drug of choice
My essence
My way of tapping into HER essence
Which in turn is tapping into the very essence of me. 

We. Are. One. 
The Universal Goddess and I. 

(Dudes don’t get jealous, Gods have ruled long enough… or so they thought?!)

Topic for another day, cue my goddess, Ichel. 

JOY made all possible yet I was always pushing my JOY away
Which leads me to another top VALUE…
Integrity. 

Hmm, this starts to get fabulously interesting. 
So buckle up, buttercup, we’re going for a ride. 

A ride down the path of Jill-o-licious,
the JOYFUL side of me that had child-like fun
(but wasn’t super ‘responsible’)… 

And the alter ego I’d created to get sh*t done.
(She shall wait to be revealed for a more appropriate time...
but The Word Doctress gives you a clue.)

Which meant I lived separately from, well, me… 

Three parts of myself…
And thus, so incredibly
Out
Of 
Integrity...

And the now allows me to see that while I have been successful 
(as a writer) 
I have never FELT successful. 
(Until now)

While I have been stable
I always FELT out of sorts.
(Until now)

While I have the dream life (literally)
I often found myself sick…
Dangerously so. 
(Until now)

Yet, with a new found awareness, that all changed. 
One year later (almost), I can honestly say I am not the same Jill
As I once was.  

One year later (almost), I can smile and say I LOVE ME. 
And not feel weird about it or 
Out. Of. Integrity.

One year later, I can shine bright like a diamond (sing it Rihanna)
Step fully out into the spotlight
And shine bright
As me. 

No more hiding. Boom.
No more fake names. Cue, Freedom by George Michael.
No more fear of judgment. Bring it.
No more shame that, the me that I am isn’t enough.
‘Cause I’m Perfectly Imperfect, b*tches!

(That’s for you Teri, you know who you are.)

No more bullsh*t. 
No more compartmentalizing the pieces of me 
to stay safe, 
play small, 
hide the greatness that is me.

Because this greatness...
This SuperPower of Words
That I have
Is a gift
From the Universe To me.
And who am I to hide it?
Who am I to keep it from you?

So this is me... 
Stepping Out. 
Stepping Up
Stepping In.
With Utter JOY.

In complete aligned INTEGRITY
Saying welcome to the house of me… 

My new LIVE OUT LOUD project
That no longer hides the very essence of me
But instead invites you inside 
To access your own slice of JOY
Through my words.

Some are totally free… 
Some are available via what I like to call the JOY-Scription… 

And my intention is to simply share
What’s possible
When living from one’s highest values. 

I’m out.
I’m aligned.I’m finally in INTEGRITY...
And I’m so friggin’ full of JOY...
I could booty dance non-stop into the new decade.
...And beyond.

(Update, I am!)

Why not join me. 
Check out what FLOW feels like
What ALIGNMENT looks like
And what this Jill 2.0 is up to
Now that I fully accept and embrace myself...

And if you want even more access
Dive into the JOY-Subscription

And get all of my words…
I’m looking for my first 108…

A special blend of JOYful Souls
And my founding members that will get more of me as this tale unfolds. 

---

What’s More JOY Worth To You?

For Less Than 191 Pennies A Week
Access All My JOYful Words

For the detailed soul, click here for more.

In The Silence I Found Me

One Moment Can Be Defining

So, we all know it’s a crazy-ass time. I think that cat’s out of that bag. And he’s got his claws out and he’s hissing at all of us to stay back. 

And let’s face it, for the non-introvert, this might be hard. 

I mean, being locked in. If you are. 

Being more silent than you’re used to, perhaps, because the family is, well, home. 

There’s a lot of emotion that goes with this moment in time. One day it will be seen as historical and spoken about in classrooms and lecture halls, medical schools and symposiums. 

But for right, in this moment, we are in the thick of it. And it kind of sucks for many… 

And it’s okay to feel that. 

Loss, of what was. From your daily routine, to your everyday freedoms, to your privacy, to the simple ability to shop whenever you want or hang with friends. 

Loss for some even means their jobs.

And that can bring on fear. 

Again, it’s normal and totally okay to FEEL what we are FEELING, the key thought is to not sink into the pot of emotions and stew. 

This is when we can get off-track and even sick. Been there. Done that. In my life… thankfully not now.

Feel and Release. It’s the new way to “fish” from within. 

And when able, I encourage you to fish for some JOY. 

See, when we feel JOY, whether during a 60-second, spontaneous dance party with the kids while cleaning up after dinner or singing off-key at the top of your lungs while brushing your teeth, we get our very cells a-hopping. 

[The toothpaste wipes right up… Try it. Super fun.]

The JOY these little moments bring boosts not only our mood but also our immune system. 

No joke. Seriously! 

Now, if dancing isn’t your thang, try a laugh-out-loud movie night or curl up with a good book. 

And also consider working on you during this time. And all the time.

That one thing, other than adding more JOY to your life, that you put off learning or doing. 

Maybe speaking another language, being able to plank for two minutes without dying, Marie Kondo-ing your closet or starting that business you always wanted to. 

Heck, maybe it’s writing that book or short story you’ve wanted to for years… okay, decades! If so, hit reply and tell me all about it.

Whatever that thing is, we all have it, why not start it now. Today.

Below finding self-worth in silence is a great 15-minute read. So why wait on that nugget of JOY.

Pour a cup-o-tea or glass of wine and have at it. 

Your time is now. 

Fish in the pond of you.

---

Some Word-Love On Self Worth… And More.

Gosh, I love myself, but this wasn’t always the case.

My entire life, I spent dodging and weaving and what I didn’t realize was that there was no escaping that which I hated. Me. I’ve been running from me. 

Not the cold weather
Not the school
Not the environment
Not the family
Not the relationship
Not the job
Me. 

I didn’t realize the pattern until I was quite-literally stuck on a five-square-mile island, inhabited by less than 2000 people, in a constant-construction-zone of a 100-year-old, sea-side cottage, raising a baby goat. 

Random? Yes.

Life has a way of handing out 
just what is needed in order to... 
DEAL.

And this island...This “dream realized”...
This goat...
THIS was my wake up call.

And it KICKED my perfectly imperfect ass.
Right into GROWTH…

[Prayer hands] 
And a moment of immense thanks
To the universe
The grand designer
Who gave me just what I needed
Even when I didn’t know what I wanted.

Because now I can say, less than a year later.
I love myself. 
When a year ago now, I was lost
In constant turmoil and so down on myself that 
I hated just about everything that made me, well, me.
And I didn’t know how to crawl, let alone climb out of that black hole that was me…And for the first time I was simply too tired to run…
Plus, I had this baby goat…
If you only knew…!

What I discovered in my first year of construction
was my absolute lack of peace. 
What I discovered in my second year of life here
was my absolute lack of self-worth.

I was so depleted 
it was no wonder 
I was on a constant 
external 
Search
for validation. 

It was no wonder 
I was desperately trying 
to fill my inner cup up 
by chasing those who might love me, 
might see me, 
might get me, 
might guide me, 
might teach me 
something that would help me... 
just get there…

Where?
Who the F- knows…

There was nowhere to go 
Where I wasn’t already present.

And THAT was the problem. 
That was the challenge. 
That was the true issue.

I have recently sunk into the line
We take care of what we love…
And yet one day, when I heard it again, something clicked. 

One day, 
while sitting quietly with… 
uh, me… 
a quiet moment 
that at one time 
would have been torture, 
I got it…

I felt it. 
That deep hate of me.
That disappointment in me.
That belittling of me. 

That voice constantly 
bickering and 
blaming and 
shaming and 
tearing me down.

Kicking me hard.
Pushing me back.
Telling me I wasn’t 
lovable, 
wasn’t enough… 

And I realized that voice, 
that part of me, 
was a voice I wouldn’t wish on 
my worst enemy. 

I realized that voice 
was not worthy 
of sitting at my table over a cup of tea... 

I realized that voice was toxic...
And was slowly killing me.

Was robbing me 
Of my joy.
My pleasure in living.
In taking a breath.

And yet, I invited that voice into my head 
at every 
conceivable 
opportunity. 

I never said STOP IT!
Enough!
No more!
I am not available for that!
To that voice within me.
The oh-so-negative one. 

And one of us had to say Enough.
And Evil-She wasn’t going to! So I did. 
We take care of what we love. 
And I decided... I matter. 

I decided 
just saying the words 
“I love myself” 
was no longer enough.

I choose to lean into 
FEELING 
those words…

And it hurt. 
And it scared me.
And it was so uncomfortable. 

Because I had to realize that on some level I did not love me. 
On some deep level, I did not care enough to take good care of 
my body, 
my mind, 
my soul, 
my money, 
my marriage, 
my life, 
my iron, 
my health, 
my thoughts.

On some level, I had spent a good 40 years trying to escape... 
me. 

But now, in the blink of an eye, 
I chose a new path. 
A new possibility. 
Just. 
Like. 
That.

Keep running from me 
and never getting anywhere.

So not working.

Or…

Love me.
Lean in. 
Build myself up… 

With words
With thoughts
With truly feeling my feelings…

I stopped pulling on the push door 
And leaned in.

And for me, 
the journey of self-worth 
started with silence.

Scary
Silent
Silence.

And in the space
That gap of
Sudden
Delicious 
Mind-quiet
I slowly
Started building 
my self-worth… 

Because, 
everything is 
a reflection of 
how I think of myself. 
Period. 

My thoughts
My body
My health
My marriage
My money
My business
My, my, my...

And in increasing my self-worth everything changed. 

Because 
it started 
with knowing 
I am enough.

It started 
with telling 
that critical voice 
to take a f-ing hike.

Wanna Swim In Some Self-Worth?

Now I’d like to take you on a deep dive journey into you.
Into the silence because
All is possible in that space.

Healing.
Love.
Self-worth.
Joy.

And even peace.
Now.

And boy-oh-boy do we need some peace. 

This is more than meditation, this is a self-time-out. This is creating space for you.

Light a candle.
Play some low music.
Some chanting or soft drumming.
Slow and steady…

So that when you breathe in…
You aren’t hurried.
When you breathe out…
You aren’t rushed. 

Instead you sink in.
Sit comfortably.
Hands in your lap
Feet grounded, on the floor.
Or cross-legged, on your yoga mat
If you prefer.

Just be.
No right.
No wrong.
No expectation.

Just you
Your breath
In
And
Out
And the silence
Of 
Your 
Mind.

I want you to close your eyes for a second and imagine a crystal clear pool. 

It’s bathwater warm and feels delicious,
like fine silk, against your bare skin 
as you ease yourself in. 

This is your pool of self-worth
A place you can come to anytime.

A place that has the sounds of a waterfall
A trickle of a stream
A hum of tree frogs…
A rustle of leaves in trees…

Isolate.
Peaceful.
This is your place to Be.
To escape.
To recharge.
To regroup.
And you can access it at anytime
You choose.

See when I dive in, or take a dip in this 
Silky-sweetness
I feel healed
Peaceful
Delighted
Delightful. 

When I sink into the warmth
I feel hugged
Cherished
Loved.

Because I am.

When I enter this space
There is nothing “wrong” in my world.
Good and bad do not exist here. 
There is only love.
A smile.
Pure bliss.

Delicious, is it not?

This is my self-worth pool. 
This is where I take a dip into me.
Into building up all that I am.
Into filling my cup to overflowing.

This is where I sink into reflection
And peace.
Into a feeling of loving -- me. 
A shiver
A song in my blood
A feeling in my bones.

In this place…
I am enough.
And I know it with each cell of my being. 

In this place
I bank that knowing
And build up my self worth account.

Each ripple of the water around me 
As I move in a dance, a swim, a sinking in… 

Is a golden splash of worth
A droplet of my self-worth
Building me up
Sustaining me 
Empowering me. 

And it’s a delight.

I collect droplets of gold 
Like coins from a collectors treasure.
I watch them pile up in my palm 
Until they overflow
Raining down on me,
Surrounding me.

I touch each one. I smile at each speck of gold
Coin
Ripple
Droplet
And give thanks.
And embrace the love
Of me
Each represents. 

Ah, gratitude is like the most fragrant of nectars
On my tongue.
Simply Divine. 

As the water
Heals me
Frees me
Nourishes me

Loves me
I place each coin along the edge of my pond
And see the creation of me
Of my love
Of my self-worth account.

No vault is needed to store 
These love pieces of me
For this is my sacred space.
A place I visit daily for five, ten, even just a minute or two.

This is where I come
to build up 
me.
To Replenish 
me. 

Try it today and then leave a comment below and share your experience. And let me know if an audio version of this would be of interest to you. 

Side Note: 
This Works For Me For Two Reasons…

I am responsible for my own self-worth building...
it comes from ME,
my inner work,
my silent-time,
my beingness,
my "gold coins"
and not an external source saying "good job"...

And, I do the work...
I take responsibility for show up
Here in my Self Worth Space.
I make the commitment to sink in
Once a day 
Sometimes more. 

At the end of the day, week, month, year…
That’s a heck of a lot of self-worth coins… 
Far more than I could ever consider giving away.

To fear.
To shame.
To blame.
To anger.
To hate.
To others. 
To stories.
To the past.
To a future that I now know I do not control.
And never have. 

Instead, I focus on now.
This moment.
And I build myself
My power
My self-worth 
In the silence. 
In the moments I dive into my space.

I collect those 
golden ripples, 
those droplets, 
those coins
Of self-worth
and I touch each one, 
look at each one,
am THANKFUL for each one!

Gratitude is key. 

My self-worth bank account is becoming SO INFINITE that nothing can ever drain it...(as has happened in the past)...

My self-worth account is so overflowing that I can actually have “hard” conversations with people and not want to run away.

My self-worth account is so FULL that I feel complete with no need to prove anything to anyone…

My self-worth account enables me to bask in peace.
Even in a time such as this.

My self-worth brings perks and reward points that even the best credit card companies can’t compete with. 

One of them being… love.
Of self.

Focusing on self-worth will pay dividends beyond the best stocks you can imagine. 

Investing in your self-worth brings peace, joy, and so much love that the little critical voice within simply is no more.

Now that’s freedom. 
That’s peace. 
That’s everything. 

---

Photo Credit: Ryan Moreno @ryanmoreno

---

Now Is A Vulnerable Time

Now is a vulnerable time. 
For some a difficult time.
And the ideal moment for more JOY.

Being vulnerable can be empowering
Or it can be disempowering, as it once was for me… 

A holder-on-er of emotions
Of events
Of situations
Of interpretations
Of choices
Of wrongs
Of slights
Of pain
Of shame
Of stories

Ah, the stories.

I’d hold on for not just 
An hour
A day
A month
A year
But more like 
6
12
28

Gasp, some stories of 
Not good enough
Not worthy enough
Not perfect enough
Not lovable enough.

Not 
Enough
Period

Played on repeat 
Over and over
And bloody
Over again
For 45 years… 

Can you feel me?
Does that resonate? 

In some small 
Or large way
The suffering… 

Until I came
Full
Stop

Until I uncovered 
what was within me 
all along.

Peace.
Enoughness.
Perfection.

In the form of 
Perfectly Imperfect
Because I am. 
Enough.

Brave
Strong
Powerful
F-ing Loveable

I am NOT broken
And ah, the joy of knowing
I never was. 

Broken.

I never needed permission 
To simply be

I never needed steps
A blueprint
A staircase to this or that
A class
A course
A guru

All I ever needed was me
To go within
To let the walls 
Crumble
Fall
Break apart
And expose the real
Vulnerable
Raw is me.
Flawed is me.
Perfectly Imperfect is me.

Being 
That 
Is 
Me

I hid the real me
I never shared
I never truly cared
(for me)

I never
Allowed myself to shine
To play 
To connect
To express
All 
That 
I 
Am

Fear
Judgment
Shame
Blame
Were my go-to addictions
My go-to ways of being.

Committed to suffering...
A game I played...
Solo.

But now. Now I choose 
A new path…

Because
I can do the “hard” things.

I can lean in.
I can feel.
And find 
grace.
I can forgive
Others.
I can forgive
Me. 
I can let go.

I can let it be easy.

When I get quiet
When I stop the spin
When I follow directions
When I stay in the content
When I use the tools 
When I stay aware…

When I love me and finally admit
I am not broken…
I never have been
I have nowhere else to be
I can not change what was
Nor what will be

But I can give myself the gift 
Of now
Of the present 
Moment
This moment

Did you miss it?

Lean in.
Feel. 
Drop the serious.
Shed the fear
The worry
And sit with you.
In grace.

Find more JOY
And know you’re here 
And it’s perfectly
Timed
Aligned
Divine. 

And it’s only just begun.

Sink into a knowing 
What I now know.
All has been
Always will be 
And is 
Fine.

💜

---

Photo Credit: Ian Espinosa @greystorm

---

What’s More JOY Worth To You?

For Less Than 191 Pennies A Week
Access All My JOYful Words

For the detailed soul, click here for more.

Everyday Is An Opportunity

Words. They are my ALL.

And this lyrical side of my writing is new, yet not new to me.

It’s always been within, like the hum of a fridge down the hall.

It’s a beat that leaks out of me in moments of flow and sometimes erupts into words on the page worth sharing.

This is one such sharable moment because to see everyday as an opportunity is a powerful thing.
Dive in now and enjoy

Everyday Is An Opportunity.

A possibility.
Of your design. 
Of your choosing. 

No matter what life looks like
In this moment...
You have...

A choice
To be engaged...
To be happy…
To be at peace…
To be love...
To be grateful... 

How do you choose to be this day?
Who do you choose to BE?

You have the power to hit reset.
You have the ability to step into alignment.
You have it all WITHIN you.

Take a beat.
Draw in a breath.
Choose.
You.

For all is there for you... 
100% Possible... 
100% of the Time. 

---

I wrote these words and I believe it completely. 

I wrote this because I wanted to share the knowledge that I now have that my life is exactly as it is due to my own choices. 

All the good. All the bad. All the ups. All the downs. 

I wrote this to shine a light on a little talked about thing called responsibility. 
Personal responsibility. 
See I am 100% responsible for my life. 
As you are for yours. 

And thus, I am 100% responsible for the outcomes of my life. It’s a hard pill to swallow if our lives don’t look Insta-Fabulous. 
And when do they ever? 
For real. 
It’s more like Insta-Fake, is it not? 

It’s that pretending we have it all together. It’s that keeping up with the Jones. It’s that fake it till you make it mentality. 
It’s who we are at a core level. At our identity. 

This is all about the question my mentor poses, Who are you being? 

My mentor’s name is Jim Fortin and he’s a transformational coach at the identity level, where it all starts. 

So who am I being now that I have this new knowledge and take 100% responsibility for my life? 
I am being a woman not overcome by fear that runs abundant in our world, but instead at peace in the knowing that all is fine. 
I am being an individual who focuses on being of service to others through that which I am good at. My words. 

Instead of what can I get from this interaction? 
How much can I make? 
What’s in it for me?

I am being rooted and intentional with my time, energy and work. 
I am being grounded in healthy boundaries within my relationships. 
I am being graceful and loving with myself. 
I am being honoring of those I love. 
I am being grateful for all that is.

I am being a bad-ass-babe who sees opportunity everyday, all around and no longer runs after it. 

I am being a powerful force by focusing myself on my talents, my passion, my dharma. 

I am being a new version of myself each and every day, just as the sunrise is a fabulous new dawn....a delicious new opportunity. 

I am being a cosmic being humbled by all that is. Possible.

I am being grateful, cradled in the knowledge that all is fine, has always been fine and will always be fine. 

There is an awe in knowing that I am responsible for my life. For all that is in my life. 

There is a peace in knowing that I am responsible for what I think, what I say, what I do and the boundaries I create. 
There is a flow in knowing that I am responsible for all in my life, as all is a choice. 

I am responsible for knowing myself well enough to uncover my stories, my interpretations, my values and my deepest desires. 

I know what it’s like to not take responsibility, to cast blame, to feel shame, to hide and to stuff down all the feelings. 

I know what it is to miss opportunity or chase those that do not serve me.
I know what it is to not know myself…
To not know my purpose
To not know my path
To not know...

And I now know that
Everyday is an opportunity.
A possibility.
Of my design. 
Of my choosing. 
And I choose… 

Leave me a comment and start the conversation rolling. Tell me what YOU choose today, if you dare to step into being 100% responsible for your life. 

This is a judgement free zone. No judgement from me. No judgement from others and certainly no judgement from yourself… 

You have the power to hit reset.
You have the ability to step into alignment.
You have it all WITHIN you.

Take a beat.
Draw in a breath.
Choose.
You.

💜

---

Photo Credit: Mohamed Nohassi @coopery

---

The Art Of Visualization

Sometimes it’s hard to visualize. And I get that, kind of… 

As a writer, an only child, and as a creative being, I have always created worlds and characters. It’s simply easy for me. A gift. 

So when I hear people struggling to visualize, it hits me that maybe writing something like this can help. 

Why visualize? 

Well, when you get quiet with you, when you meditate, when you want to KNOW that what you are calling to you in this world is ALREADY yours to own, have, experience... this is key. 

Visualization and deeply feeling, have allowed me to BE, DO, and HAVE more in my life than ever before.

So, I’d like to start here with an exercise in visualization, which, to me is simply painting a fun story, no stress, stepping into it, and experiencing it with ALL your senses. 

See if you can join me on this journey and lean into how it makes you FEEL… 
As what we feel matters. 
Leaning in.
Feeling.
Knowing that what you visualize as already possible matters. 

Mastering a belief that what you visualize and feel already is, well, that’s the magic.

And you can dive into more on that here.

This entire post is about the art of visualization so that you can step into manifesting more purpose, more wealth, more health and more impact or whatever it is you desire in your life. 

I wrote these words after pondering this topic of visualization as it relates to manifesting more abundance in one’s life after seeing a post online from an amazing woman who was having difficulty envisioning what it was she wanted in her life.

In digging deeper, I saw clearly that most people simply draw a blank when they try to meditate or visualize or use self-hypnosis techniques to tap into what it is they want in life. 

It’s funny, isn’t it? How we can see clearly what we don’t want, yet to start to paint pictures in vivid detail of what it is we do want… 

[face meet palm - smack]

Well, many of us falter, struggle and that right there leads to the vibration… the feeling within that it just won’t work… 

And so it won’t.

Does that sound like you?

I realized Pamela wasn’t alone after diving more deeply into the thread of her posted question and saw all the responses filled with similar angst. 

I wrote this piece specifically to help her see more clearly what was possible to bring into her life… 

And now I release this to you, in more detail because maybe you too can relate to not really knowing how to do this thing called visualization…

So let’s start with a few basics and then…

Play In The Art Of Visualization…

What follows is the secret sauce, the key and once caught, well, all will click.

When We Aligned Our Mind’s Eye
(The Art Of Visualizing What It Is We Want)

With A Deep Belief That It Already Is
(As In It Already Exists)

And The Magnetic Force Of Knowing
(We Are Truly Enough To Receive All We Desire)

The Art Of Visualization Simply Works. 

We all possess the skills and the ability but it seems very few understand just how to bring it all together.

So, let’s dive into the art of visualization together so that you may discover the power of using all your senses, tapping into your creative, playful side and allowing JOY to flood you as you dip your toes into the pleasure of designing your own life.

Because friend you can…

So, let’s take a detour through the art of visualization, together, shall we? 

First Of All, Let's Take A Stroll Arm-In-Arm…

away from your lovely bank…

You know, the one where they call you Ma'am and literally bow as you walk in.

The bank with marble floors and a doorman who tips his hat at you…

Ah, the bank that offers you a refreshing beverage as the clerk scrambles to get the bank manager because he simply MUST say hello and offer his utmost attention to any detail you request... 

Actually, he knows what you need before you say. He's simply that good.

This, darling, is white-glove service and it's your new norm…

Lean in even as we walk through the glass doors, business done, bank balances bursting and new investments on point. The delightful manager eager to report back to you within 24-hours on the possibilities of any additional opportunities that would increase your wealth. 

Hmm, delicious. Sink into that ease, a knowing that you are supported by all that is. 

The bank manager, the doorman (yes, this bank has a doorman, darling), and me, your visual guide who’s joining you for this journey.

But most importantly, the universe is supporting you and providing exactly what you order… 

So let’s keep placing orders, visually, shall we..?

The doors, of course, are held open for you, for us, to stroll through, by the elegant door man who tips his hat. 

Like you, I feel as though I’m in a movie and it’s a shear delight that makes us giggle and smile back.

And as I hit the sidewalk and take a deep breath you simply breath in deeply, laughing in sheer gratitude for the ease that is your life. 

That. Is. Joy. 

And from JOY, abundance flows… 

As we enjoy the fall breeze and the sites around us in your city or town of choice, the bank now a distant memory, we chat about all the lovely POSSIBILITIES that exist for you…

We have no time for gossip or to recount the latest happenings on the most-recent Netflix series.

Instead, we are speaking of creating impact, opportunities, being of service and reporting on how grateful we are to be strolling arm-in-arm on a gorgeous Wednesday morning…

No 9 to 5 or desk or time-clock to punch in, in sight. 

I smile thinking about the sweetest couple I know, Jill and Josh Stanton, who’ve made their entire brand around Screw the 9 to 5 lifestyle, and girlfriend, that is our existence. 

It’s all I can do not to laugh out loud at how fabulous it feels to be free and I see that you get it too by the peaceful look on your face. 

The upturned lips, the glow that makes others take notice and smile back as they pass us on the sidewalk.  

Can't you simply smell the new leather of that car you were thinking about just last week..? I ask after a heartbeat of silence as we listen to the city sounds with nothing but acceptance and joy.

You still can’t believe that given your bank balance, your infinite abundance, with your stacks of green, you can walk in and hand them a few and boom, a new car bought, leather surrounding you in delicate comfort, engine purring under you as you GRASP the hand-stitched, leather-wrapped steering wheel…

You slip out of your universal new car order in a moment of surreal disbelief… and that slip of question, of doubt, pauses all.

I laugh delicately..."Yes, darling, hand-stitched by fingers...start again as it is already yours."

So you dream of that new Tesla or Audi or Porsche or whatever the brand again and this time you sink into the knowing that you are already in that leather seat. 

And you no longer cancel that order with limiting thoughts.

Instead you see yourself as already surrounded by that new car smell.
Already driving with a face-cracking smile.
Already seeing that baby parked in your two-car garage. 

And now there is no doubt, no question, no nothing but the placing of a one-click order to the universe and the knowing that it shall be… and then letting go to once again be in this moment. 

Our heels clicking on the sidewalk, the smells of numerous eateries surrounding us…

Hmm, what is that fabulous...sniff… is that cinnamon?

As we pass by a fabulous, ultra-popular restaurant with great, bay windows overlooking the river running through this fabulous city of yours, you decide you're a bit tempted for a bite. 

I say, "Why not?! We have nothing but time... no 9 to 5!"

We pass by those standing, waiting, because we simply do not "do" lines... it's not in our existence.

It’s not rude, unless you believe it is.
It’s not arrogant, unless you say it is.
It’s nothing but what you make it… 

As we're greeted like family…
Because we are.
All connected.

We're seated in the best of the best tables and served fragrant dishes that delight the taste buds and have us both moaning in utter delight.

That hint of garlic was it. Oh, and what about that cheese. Oh my gosh and that fish... wow, just lemony enough to zing…

The delicate wine…
The fragrant coffee… 
And that chocolate, what in the world was that, decadent thing melting on the tongue. 

It is joyous to ALL senses, is it not?

There is no shame at being in such a fancy place.
There is no thought to that dessert going to your hips or mine.
There is no guilt over not working right now in the middle of the day.
Instead, there is ease.
There is peace.
There is allowing. 
There is enJOYment of life. 

A warm, cozy space. White glove service, as the norm.
Scents that enrich all the senses… 
A knowing that this is how life is supposed to be…
Easy. Joyful. In flow. 

Gratitude floods us both as we sit in smiling silence…
Full but not stuffed. 
We have no need to over-indulge.
We know deep within we are supported in every way… 

From the food we eat...
To the water we drink...
To the air we breathe...
To the thoughts we think…
And we choose our thoughts.

And the bill, signed without double checking. 
No calculating of a tip because there is more than enough.
Instead, a crisp Ben Franklin is left to bring our rather adorable server some JOY in her day.

Lunch is on me, even though it could easily be on you.
We both roll in abundance… 
And you step into acceptance of this gift. 
Knowing you are worthy… worth it. 
Because often times it’s the inability to receive that keeps us trapped in lack.

Our conversation over lunch wasn't about the latest flu season, presidential mishap or who's-doing-who in the neighborhood…

Nope, it was centered on who you are now serving, how you are serving, and what that feels like as suddenly you have this new peace to think, to feel, to be... 

To come from utter service because...
Your bills are paid.
Your mortgage is a thing of the past.
Your family is well-taken-care-of.
You own NO one NO thing!

Your time is yours to own.

And money flows like toothpaste from a never-ending tube as you sit here, as you sleep, as you serve others, as you play or take care of your family…

THIS. IS. YOUR. NEW. NORM.

And therefore there is nothing to worry about... 
there is simple JOY and love and peace and THINKING up ways to be of service to others.

Oh and booking those first-class tickets to...Where was it again?

And staying at that 5-star joint right downtown...Yes, you know the one…

They have little chocolate cakes upon check-in...
And fruit in the room...
Oh yes, plus, bed service each night and a driver to boot.
Gotta love the care…

And spending time giving back to that charity you love. Where you are filled with such gratitude it bubbles up within you... like a sprinkler spilling a golden mist over all you touch…

Hmm, dive in here as we continue our stroll out of that restaurant, past the waiting line and the dark clouds hovering over those engaged in “what’s taking so long?” complaints—
Catch what I'm tossing out…

My knee-high boot heels clicking on the sidewalk like a steady heartbeat...
My pale blue scarf of silky cashmere, a delicate caress...
My form-fitting dress, of delicate sky-blue silk, made specifically for me by a lovely designer I met on my last trip to Dallas while flying, yep, first-class...for a mastermind I am so honored to be a part of…

My wrap coat in a striking caramel color,
So expensive, soft and divine. 
It was on sale but that wasn't the point...

I saw it. 
I loved it. 
I thought — 
Mine.
I bought it.
As it was —
Mine.

And the universe opened the possibility
And, of course, slashed the price in two… 
Why not?

Visualization is seeing and knowing.
Visualization is about believing and releasing.
Visualization is about relaxing into possibility. 

And allowing it to be. 
And knowing it is. 
So be it. 
Done.

It is that one-click Amazon order, you see and know will arrive. You don’t know what time but once you click and have your order number, it’s done. Out of your mind. 

There is no watching the clock, impatiently waiting for a sign that that item will arrive. 

No. 
Instead there is faith.
Ease. 
A knowing…
A belief 
That is simply is. 

You can order from the Universe just the same. 
You can place your order right now and as long as you let go… 
And know it is yours to collect. 
In the best time… 
In the best way… 
Well, it already is done. 

And that is key.

Know it as done.
Know it as done.
Can I say it again?
Know it as done.

Play with words.
Play with your thoughts.
Close your eyes and simply play.
With JOY, with abandon, with ease…

If you try to fist these thoughts, these words of your heart’s desire, nothing can grow or be visualized by your mind’s eye.

Play and allow the words to lead you…
Start small with… 
What you are wearing... 
In your mind’s eye.
Where you are going…
In your mind’s eye.

See yourself… 
Look down at your rings.
Yes, you are wearing a few…
And that bracelet, 
How heavy is it on your wrist?
Feel the weight of it. 

Hmm, beach house with a tropical breeze?
Or mountain retreat with a roaring fireplace?
Ahh, yes, both!
Divine

Why must I limit myself..?
Now that is a frigging awesome question to ask.

Oh, and yes, there are those spa weekends every 6-weeks because
SELFCARE is a thang, y'all!

Want to start painting your own pic now...?

One more key and then I’ll leave you be.

Have fun with this process. 

Step into JOY when you do this work of visualization.
Be playful and free
And whatever you do, don’t hold back. 
Ignore the limiting voice that wants to tell you
That’s not possible. 
And instead call bullsh*t like Matthew McConaughey in that movie with Sarah Jessica Parker… Failure to Launch. 

Who knew there was actually a card game called Bullsh*t!
I mean, seriously!
How flipping fun.

If you listen to that limiting voice, there will be a Failure to Launch your dreams.

So let go of that voice and simply visualize it moving away — farther and farther — away until it’s a faint whisper and then not even a sound carried on the breeze. 

Allow it to be gone. 

And then sink in. 

To imagine all you desire. 
And play.
With an open heart. 
With JOY.
With no thoughts of lack or want or need… 
No, no and no.

Vibe high from a place of putting in your order and done. 
Allow it to be.

You’ve done this before. 
As a child.

King of the world,
mountain or jungle-gym. 
And it was.
Because you declared it.

Princess Leah,
because you dared think it and say it out loud. 

It’s time to once again declare within and without that which you desire.
The universe is always providing…
And you are always asking…
It’s time to awaken to consciously stating it, is it not?

You are a creator.
You are also a magnetic force field. 
You are choosing today exactly what you want to create.
And those creations are showing up for you each and every day.

So if you don’t like the orders you’ve been receiving, well, only one thing to do… place a new order. 

No, don’t diss the past order. 
No, don’t moan about lost time and what ifs.
No, don’t think you can’t do this.

Instead, smile. 

Ask the universe for what you want.
Sit with yourself and start to see it unfold before you… 

Yep, it may take practice…
But visualization rocks.
Read this again and again, if it helps… 
And sink in.

You Don’t Have To Be A Writer.
But Sure That Would Be A Great Excuse To Offer Yourself.

Jill’s able to do this, to visualize because she’s a writer.
And yep, you’d be half right. 

Until recently, I’ve been good at visualizing only for others.
For characters…
For stories…. 
Yet for me, it was hit or miss.

Why? Because I wasn’t deserving. 
I didn’t feel good enough. 

Sound familiar? 

You get to choose your poison — excuse.
Or you can step up, like I did.
And start believing you are enough
Just as you are.
And you got this.

Practice can be full of play and JOY... 
Visualization can be fun...
Life can be delicious...
When, not if, 
we choose to allow it to be. 

So start today by allowing.
There’s really no point in pushing on the pull door of life anymore, now is there? 

Let me know how this resonates by posting a comment below. 
Or take it a step further and share your visualizations.
This is a no judgement zone. 
This is a no haters space.
This is your sacred home. 

💜

---

Photo Credit: Erik

---

When You’re Ready To Get Your Word-Art On
And Master Visualization For Real

For the detailed soul, click here for more.

Is Instant Gratification Killing You Slowly?

If you’ve ever come from a place of wanting more — now.
Of not feeling gratitude for what is.
For believing something is lacking in your life, in you…

Well, these words are specifically designed with you in mind.

Dive in now and enjoy the ride.

---

Is Instant Gratification Killing You Slowly?

I used to be on this fast boat to instant gratification 
And I watched the world pass me by. 
Not even realizing I wasn’t living in it. 
Only observing it 
As I pressed the pedal down to get to my IG destination. 

IG, ha. 
Instagram
Instant gratification.  
Amusing, no? 
Pun not intended but so insanely true. 

When your guide, 
the Universe, 
Life
says “we’re not there yet”
It’s not to annoy you
Frustrate you
Force you to wait.

It’s to support you.
Honor you.
Prepare you.
What? You say…

It takes a bit of a yoga twist,
And inhalation or ten,
To sink into the realization.
Or at least it did for me.

Consider the cost
The energy pouring out
To be 
Foot tapping, 
arms folded over chest
Lips pouting 
Eyes narrowed 
Waiting. 

The Universal...
“We’re not there yet.”

Serves you
Builds you 
Opens you to 
100% possible
100% of the time. 

It’s an opening
So you can discover flow... 
Learn to allow... 
Slow down...
And pause on the mad dash to No-Where Land.

You’ve been there before
That almost reached the Promise-Land...No-Where-Land.

That place just out of reach
Mythical in that it will give you what you need
If you can just get there.

On that fast boat
Train 
Plane
Course
Method
System
Step-by-step
Blueprint
Damn it already! 

It’s that external searching that is a lie.
It’s that fast boat. 
That bill of goodies sold 
Instant gratification 
Compare yourself.
Contract yourself.
Conform yourself. 
Expand and try again.  
That is a lie lie lie. 

We’re not there yet 
is the brake 
One so desperately needs to apply. 

For that bullet train is screaming on its rails.

Can you not hear it?
Feel it?

That shutter.
That shake.
That mad quake. 

This is a gift. 
Four simple words. 
We’re not there yet. 

And when you finally hear them 
When you finally click to the message within... 
Pause and absorb the meaning…

The chains that hold you shackled 
The bars that cage you 
Will
Melt
Away.

Like a kaleidoscope of fall leaves 
Off the tallest branches…
Drifting, falling... 
Gracefully...
Beautifully...
Gently. 
No force.
No tug-o-war. 

‘Cause where you are journeying 
Is so incredibly unique.
Divine. 
And dare I use the word again...
Delicious. 

Where you are traveling,
my friend,
is within. 

And your guide, 
oh-so-knows the way.
Supporting arms,
They have your back.

There is no falling behind.
There is no lost.
There is no hurry up 
and give me the key.

On this road of life…
The secret 
The way for it all to connect into place
Like a massive game of Life Tetris...

Reduce your speed.
Dock your fast boat.
Jump off that same train--  
And just breathe.

Allow the chains to fall away. 
Allow the stories to unravel 
like a delightful ball of golden thread. 

You are connected.
You are not alone.

And your true journey
Is one that promises to take you...
Home. 

Home 
To 
The 
Joy
Of
You.

A most fabulous place
Available to those 
When they release
The need to control
The now

The outcome
The knowing
And realize it’s fine
To not be there yet.

And instead, 
Deep breath
In and Out. 

Be here, 
Present. 
Now. 

Did you catch it? 
The answer as old as time? 
The place where JOY lives and breathes.

No? It’s okay.
Natural, even.
To miss the most basic.
Obvious.The true gift. 

‘Twil come to pass.
Give it a go… 
Life.

Just be.

And allow yourself to simply--
Let go.

---

Photo Credit: Callie Morgan @calliestorystreet

---

“What Do I Even Want..?” Doesn’t Have To Be Such A Hard Question

Have you ever stumbled over this question — “What do you want?”

I know I have.

I have found it so much easier to answer what I don’t want in my life, to the point where I’d often fall into a crazed, uncomfortable silence when asked,

“Well, then what do you want?”

For years, I went down a rabbit hole of WHY can’t I figure out what I want?

Constantly asking myself why it’s so damn hard to know the answer to this Q of What do I bloody want!?

And then it hit me, the why just doesn’t matter.

The why was simply another trap, another way to spin, and over-think what should have been very simple to answer.

What do you want?

If you’re breaking out in hives over this question, keep reading, as this post is all about how I broke free of the turmoil these four little flipping words cause in my life.

What’s so amusing to me now, is that in getting quiet and in no longer asking the question, the answer came.

What I can now see with the clarity of a tropical tide pool on my little island paradise, is the stuck point.

The disconnect if you will.

The answer to this question — what do you want? — is a heart-centered one yet I was always approaching it from the space between my two lovely shaped ears.

And to make matters even more toxic, I was beating myself over the head, with that itty-bitty-critical voice who’s whisper was often louder than a megaphone shout, trying to answer that question analytically.

In keeping my head and my heart separate, I found it next to impossible to sink into any kind of answer.

Now, I’d have glimpses of what I’d want but only a ghosting of a vision, gone in the blink of an eye. So fleeting, so almost — only to leave me feeling despondent, broken and frustrated.

Yet, I was none of these things.

Despondent. Broken. Frustrated.

I was simply coming from a thinking place. A place of knowledge-ing the answer out of me and not from my most powerful center. The center of knowing.

Because I was coming from analytical thought, the process of answering what I do not want was simple. A snap.

The familiarity of what we don’t want can be analyzed.

The knowing of what we do want, well, it can not be thought because it’s all about being felt, and that’s the rub.

Maybe this resonates with you or maybe you’re ready to stop your scroll.

Either way, this topic is worth a few more words, is it not?

Because the need to get it, to be perfect, to figure out one’s life purpose is like this new viral epidemic choking the joy out of people’s day.

The external search for the answer to this single question of — What do you want?… is leading the masses on a never-ending search for more, more, more — more thoughts, more learning, more listening…

More externals…

When the answer is simply to go withIN…

And start asking who is it I want to be?

The answer only comes when we pause in the mad rush of life, when we drop all the balls we are juggling and realize we won’t die if the dishes don’t get washed now, and the laundry don’t get folded-right-this-second, and we don’t magically awaken to the answer that stumps us to the single most asked question of all time…what do I even want?

Often times, in guided meditation or visualization exercises, we’re told to envision what we want on a screen or in the mind’s eye.

To envision yourself creating the outcomes you want and to see, hear, and feel exactly what you want… And well, this baffles so many of us.

I mean, for reals, how do you see what you don’t know it is you even want?

What the bloody hell do you see up there on this stark white canvas of your mind’s eye while squinting your eyes closed with all your might.

If you’re like so many, perhaps you’re thinking “I’m doing it wrong…” or you’re even afraid to try.

What if thinking this way is “wrong” thinking...an interpretation or a story...and the exact thing holding you back from actually getting what you want?

See our thoughts can hold us hostage. Here’s why.

If you live in your head, the tendency to try or to force is present.

“There is no right way.
There is no wrong way.
To meditate.
To envision.
To be you.
There is simply your way.

This is where over-thinker’s hang out. Forever trying new things. Forever focused on making it work, being the best, or doing it right.

As if there even is a right way to mediate.

Hint: There is no right way and there is no wrong way. To meditate. To envision. To be you. There is simply your way. Just like there is no right way to living your life, there is only your way. But more on that in a second.

When we come from a place of right or wrong way to do something — whether meditate or live our life purpose or figure out the answer to this most annoying — I mean important — question, What do I want?, we are in our head not our heart.

And that is where we become blocked.

This analyzing of the process, making it “am I doing it right or wrong?” simply doesn’t work. Why?

Because the process of envisioning exactly what you want, in life or in a meditative state, is all about feeling and flow.

It’s all about allowing.

Flow and force cannot coexist.

And yet, we spend lifetimes forcing ourselves to flow — Square peg meet round hole.

And we try to make it work, fit, feel right. And it doesn’t. It never will.

Because that’s force. That’s conforming. That’s being who you are not to fit a version of you that quite possibly you believe you should.

Where in your life do you force flow?

The more we try to make something happen, the more we spin in the NOT happening. Why?

Because the secret sauce is withIN you already.

Which, when we finally get this, it’s like receiving the best gift ever given on the very specialist of days by the most important person in your life.

It’s like winning the flipping lottery of life.

It’s like diving off the highest cliff, knowing on the way down that you will be cradled in the splash of a warm pool of deep, silky water upon re-entry to the atmosphere-of-you.

It’s like looking in the mirror and knowing you got this — new job, promotion, client, first date, role of new parent…and the list goes on.

Suddenly, instead of spinning and seeking and searching and doing and looking under every nook-n-cranny, reading every book, listening to every podcast, enrolling in every course or following whatever guru…there is a space to hit pause.

And stop.

It’s that glimpse of withIN. That moment of utter calm, stillness, silence where one can hear the rushing in the ears like the sound of the sea in a seashell your parent may have once held to your head with a smile.

It’s envisioning, dreaming, creating and being you, the perfectly imperfect creator, and working from a place of BELIEVING it’s possible for you.

And the key ingredient in this secret sauce you can access at any moment... Well, it’s twofold.

Feeling The Feelings & Believing
Till You Just Know

Let’s start with the first.

It’s truly sinking into feelings…

Which I’ll admit I sucked at and I’ve coached many a creative who also have had trouble sinking into exactly what they felt.

Why do we have such trouble feeling our feelings?

Mainly due to our stories and interpretations and histories and traumas.

Mostly due to how we perceive right and wrong, our fear of being judged by another and our anxiety with the possibility of being abandoned.

Sound familiar?

Those stories that we CHOOSE to still drag around with us are more taxing than lugging an overweight suitcase up a flight of stairs when we find the elevator with an ‘out of order’ sign.

These stories date as far back as our childhood, some twenty, thirty, forty years ago or more. And yet we often see them in such vivid Technicolor clarity today and can recount with emotional urgency all the feelings as though trapped in a locked room with them, while also shouting from the hillside that we just can’t see any-damn-thing while meditating, envisioning or looking within.

See the contradiction here?

Gosh, is that so familiar to who I once was. Maybe you too can relate.

That overweight luggage of the past has a cost, much like when you go to the airline counter to check in and find yourself paying an astronomical fee just because of an extra pound or two.

But that pound or two, of emotional excess unpack baggage, carried around for a lifetime, well, it just gets heavier and heavier each minute, year, decade.

For me the cost was huge — as in I was huge. At one point, I weighed in at 299.5 pounds, mostly because I never let any of my baggage go. This added weight cost me a lack of trusting myself, knowing myself, and an inability to answer the simple question, “What do I even want..?”

The cost for me has been huge from the standpoint of starting and stopping in life.

Some would call it lack of focus, lack of confidence and what it resulted in was taking one step in and five steps back.

Maybe you’ve been there. It’s not a fun existence nor a productive one.

In fact, in this place, I always felt lost.

In my own, very heavy body, even I often felt lost.

And it wasn’t until I let go of all that baggage, all those stories, all those emotions I’d stuffed for a lifetime, that I was able to get quiet enough to hear the song of my heart and not the rumbling, mumbling and grumbling of my thoughts when I dared to answer that all consuming question — What do I even want..?

When we let this go and accessed our true feelings the ability to envision what was possible became, well, possible.

When I shed the layers of me that no longer served who I was or wanted to be in this life, the weight of the world lifted and magic started to become my new norm.

Because it’s this all-consuming, all-knowing BELIEF (the second ingredient) that it, what it is you want, already IS. Because it does exist. Already.

All the love, the joy, the money, the abundance, the health, the experiences... these aren’t created FOR you...

...they are WAITING for you, friend.

But most of us, we suck at answering this Q
What do I even want?

We can do a monologue for years, most of us, on what we DON’T want... and that too traps us.

But what do you want...?

Such a hard F-ING Q for most of us.

Why?

Why is it that knowing what we want stops most of us in our tracks?

Makes us draft a list of what we don’t want in life
Makes us stumble and stutter and waste so much time

What if the answer is as simple as power.

Follow me for a moment, down a twisted little path of childhood, domestication, and tapping into one’s power. Or not, in this case.

In childhood, we know how to dream.
To state what we want.

We do so with absolute certainty and conviction.
We are brilliant in our ability to KNOW.
To BELIEVE.
To ENVISION.
To DREAM.

To be a fireman
A doctor
A astronaut
A rapper
Baseball player
Movie star
A CEO
The first female president...

And the adults around us eat it up like cheap entertainment...

We are encouraged to share these dreams, as those adults around us smile and applaud and prompt us for more.

Typically in front of friends or other family members.

We are center stage at this point.

Applauded for dreaming.
Encouraged even.
Rewarded.
Hugged.
Cuddled.
Smiled at.
Loved.

The first few years in school, well at least in my day, we got to share this same story, to talk about it... sometimes even in front of the class. Maybe even as a show-and-tell moment.

Yet it was also at this moment, we may have started to hear laughter from other kids... laughter of a different kind. A different tone.

A confusing kind of snickering behind a palm. Whispers from one kid to another while stared at you.

We might have felt a sensation in our gut or somewhere in our BEING that simply didn’t feel so good. A sinking. A tremor of “wrong”...or yuck...or warning.

And we started to move away from those things that caused this horrible feeling…

Moved away from the sharing of our dreams.
The unapologetic “I want to be a....when I grow up.”

A shift from utter conviction
Unwavering confidence
Our own natural sense of knowingness.

And soon, even our parents may have unknowingly caused that horrible feeling...

Because quite frankly, at some point the child is no longer a cutie-pie to show off to friends so they can be entertained hearing “who we want to be” when we grow up.

Our adult figures have everyday sh*t to deal with and the “heaviness that is life”... as they are most likely trapped beings themselves... unaware of their own potential.

And let’s face it. Little kids shift from cute for others and “work”... a story, an interpretation, sure, but look back at your own life, look thru your parental eyes at your own...

Was the encouragement to dream always given,
forever present no matter what age you were…?
Your children were...are...?

So just as their potential was shut down in childhood...

They repeat the pattern, unknowingly more often than not, and shut down ours.

No blame.
No shame.
Simply is.

But now, with you, there is a new way, a new knowing...
so as a parent or grandparent you don’t have to continue the cycle of...

“Get a real job”...
“Need to make money”...
“Earn your degree first”...

Some of us conform. We get that law degree when all we wanted to be was a pilot.

Some of us rebel and spend our lives striving to prove someone wrong, often times missing the vibration needed to actually become that Rock God on a stage entertaining millions or that speaker filling the auditorium

or that ballerina,
Broadway star,
business owner
or successful person at whatever choice desired.

Some of us learn to hide. Never telling a soul about our secret dream to be a writer or an artist. We learn to stuff it down, not draw attention, reject praise and rejection at all costs.

Now besides, often times well-meaning but oblivious parents and adults, we also have our society.

Our domestication if you will.

See, a society has needs in order to survive.

And we are sold on these needs…through education..through media...through marketing...

We can’t all be president
We can’t all be rock stars
We can’t all be entrepreneurs
We can’t all be stay-at-home parents

And keep the economic ball-a-rolling.

We needed factory workers.
We needed soldiers.
We needed teachers, doctors, lawyers…
9-to-5-ers, employees, visionaries, and do-ers, hence, practitioners.

And maybe we even needed people to stay “dumbed down.”

Because what happens when we all start to wake up...
When we realize we are powerful beings...
Powerful creators...
That money does not come from working a 9-to-5 JOB...
unless you’ve been programmed to believe that it does...

That you don’t need to be in debt (enslaved) to get ahead...
That you are a cosmic F-ING being ...
That you are energy
That you are potential
That you are 100% possibility
100% of the time.

What if you stayed pure potential from childhood..?
What would be possible for you now in your

20s
30s
40s
50s
60s
And beyond.

Let me tell you...

Anything And Everything Would Be
100% Possible 100% Of The Time.

There’d be no BS feelings in you of feeling
Not worthy
Not lovable
Not good enough
Not powerful
Not... not... not...

You would not have a concept of “not”... would you not?

Instead, you’d envision on the movie screen of your mind,
creating the outcomes of exactly what you want and no longer be stumped by that all-consuming, problematic (story) question of…

“What do I even want?”

Those five little words would no longer
stop you…
spin you…

Would not have you drawing a blank on envisioning your own possibilities because you would KNOW you are nothing more, nothing less than absolute potential.

You would know
Without thought
That you are great
That now is all there is
That there is no right and no wrong
That exactly what you desire is already there for you.

Imagine that world for a moment.
It is yours.
The filter IS falling away.
Awareness IS within your grasp.

Truth is there for you to see.
The more you stay in the content...
The shame can be tossed aside.
The doubt can be dismissed.
The failures can be seen as priceless ways to gather data... to learn.

Triggers can be no more
(or a hell of a lot less!)

The love can bloom within you
For yourself
For others

The potential you have always had can finally
Come to light
Be acknowledged
Seen
Heard
Felt.

You can be free.
At complete peace
With you
With this world
With your existence
With your purpose.

All you have to do is SEE it
Feel it
Believe it
Known it IS already yours
And release it.

So what is it for you?

What is it you want?

Start small today.
Play with one thought.
One idea.

Stop the serious gripping
Controlling
Forcing.

And allow.
Flow
Find joy
And have some bloody fun.

How would you FEEL if free money
$100
$1,000
$10,000
showed up for you in the very near future.

What would it LOOK like to open your online statement and SEE that unexpected addition of funds…?

Would you bounce your booty up and down in your leather chair and shout SWEET..?

Imagine tearing open an envelope, one just delivered to your door, to find a wad of cash within…?

Can you SMELL it…
That new money smell...?
Can you HEAR the cha-ching in your mind...?
The SOUND a crisp stack of bills make when you run your thumbnail through the thick pile like they’re a deck of cards…?

If disbelief hits you
Shove that sh*t away.
For real.

Flood your being with YES.
With of course.
With joy.
With love.
With a shiver of how fun!

And booty dance around your kitchen.

Knowing it’s already yours...

Maybe you have a slow-ass bank, but that doesn’t matter, because you KNOW…
And you live, breathe and vibrate from this KNOWING!
And laugh at the thought of your slow-ass bank.

Feel into the joy
The abundance
The please that is this life.
And love it.

Vibe high and watch it come to be
Because
it
already
is!

Then play again.

Find a new LITTLE thing to KNOW is yours.

Practice.
Envision.
Feel.
Sink in.
Flow.

With JOY
With LOVE
With KNOWING
That it already is
And dance that sh*t out!

No right no wrong
No seeing this
Not seeing that.
Just feel joy...

And focus on what it IS you want?

Big. Small.
Know it’s already yours...

Focus on who it is you want to be?

And the rest will flow
It is the law.

The law that has been kept from you...
Your heritage.
Your truth.

It’s time you allowed it to flow back to you...

You will recognize it

When you stop resisting
When you start BEING
Who you wish to be
Not who others want you to be.

So what do you want...?

Hmm, sink in like a two-year-old
And play with that Q.

Play in your meditation,
your quiet moments.

And envision what already is on that screen of your life.
It doesn’t have to be hard.

Find the JOY in this work,
of self growth,
self exploration
In your life
In this moment

And breathe.

All is as it should be.
All is fine
Always has
Always will be.

When you get quiet with you
You’ll recognize this as your truth.

Just like you’ll soon recognize your own pure, unlimited potential as your truth.

It’s time you get out of your own way, is it not?

All you have to do is listen to your guide.
All you have to do is get quiet and listen to that inner you…

The one who doesn’t beat the crap out of you…
The one who bubbles with joy…
Who KNOWS that all is possible.
The one who knows this work as absolute truth.

All you have to do is stay in the work of loving you, getting to know you…
And be...
You.

💜

If you enjoyed this read, please share the message with a friend today…

And do leave a comment below because speaking truth into where you are in this moment, after this read — that’s pure power.

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Photo Credit: Pawel Szvmanski @szvmanski

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My Bittersweet Relationship With Being An Empathic Soul

This post may just resonate with you if you too are a deep feeler.

If you too have come from a place of being so IN the feelings of others that at times it feels alien and even painful to be of this world.

If you’ve ever felt out of place in life or told you were too sensitive for your own good, well, I feel you, I know you, I am you.

This article is all about an amazing shift that I recently experienced as an empathic soul, and the CHOICE I made to get over myself and out of my own way.

But first, let’s dive into my former life as a full-on empathic woman.

See, I used to absorb the feelings, the pain, the angst, and the energy of all. Man, woman, child and even all the animals. Heck, as a child, I probably would have told you I felt the emotions of each tree across from my childhood cottage in New Hampshire…

But of course, at some point on this journey into adulthood, I stopped sharing such a unique (okay, weird) perspective because let’s face it, at one point people who said sh*t like that were witches and burned at the stake.

But I didn’t drop the burden of all.

I willingly carried the weight of the world on my small-boned shoulders since I was a wee lass.

And all this feeling and angst and absorbing of all nearly broke me just a little over a year ago…

Ever felt that way? So overpowered by the energy, the emotion, the very act of living and caring so deeply that you felt drained?

If you’re anything like I was and can feel that, you’ll want to keep reading this post which is all about my discovery of being a true empathic soul.

See, I want to share this via a story but first let me share what brought on this massive insight, this coming-to-a-head moment where it being empathic was either going to break me or have to shift in some way, shape or form.

You may remember from an earlier post that I found my childhood dream, my writer’s retreat, in a little cottage overlooking the sea. If you missed it, this article is worth a read as it shows just how possible dreams are to manifest!

When I first arrived on my tropical island retreat, I’d hear a baby goat cry for its mom, which sounds surprisingly human, and I’d react.

My heart would pound, my ears would tune in, my stomach would drop and I’d run outside to come to the little one’s aid.

But first, I’d have to find where the little cry was coming from. See, my little island is mountainous and the wind carries sound.

So those cries, they carried up to my little cottage on a hill, overlooking the sea, on the tropical breeze — daily.

I quite literally lived in a constant state of anxiety.

Here’s the wailing of a small infant and to my soul it didn’t seem to matter a drop that it wasn’t human. And to my ear, and to most, it sounds as human as a human infant can get!

In fact, for the first 6 months, I was unable to tell the difference. And even two years later, I question baby or goat, baby or goat when I hear the cry.

The difference now, I am no longer in a state of turmoil when I hear that sound.

This state of unrest, this heart-pounding jolt, this adrenaline rush and my unchecked mad need to save the proverbial day, went on for more than a year. In addition, to spice things up, I lived in a constant construction zone, a different type of unsettled.

And to top of my level of crazy, one of those crying baby goats, one that I’d heard in the middle of pitch black, windy night, but had no possibility of located, managed to come directly to my back door the next morning and cry instantly for me.

This little dude became my very own baby goat the morning of May 3rd, nearly 2 years ago. But more on his story to come in another post, a story that will actually tie into the shift of being a true empathic soul complete with a new understanding of energetic boundaries.

But for this article, I’d like to share a story with you and the shift in myself from being all-consumed, and frankly, all-about-me, empathic and how I discovered a new, lighter way that offered me such freedom and the ability to be (finally) of true service in another’s time of need.

See, in the past, being an empath was all about me. All about how hard it was, the toll it took on me, the pain of being one so sensitive.

I learned that a true empath is one who has boundaries.

I discovered that a true empath is one who does feel but doesn’t marinate in the feelings to the point of exhaustion, physical pain, and personal heartache.

I understood that a true empath is one who instead holds the space for others to feel what they feel while honoring another’s ability to be, to grow, to cope in their own way and time.

A mentor of mine loves to say, “The universe doesn’t test you, it reflects you.” And recently, this opportunity to see my own empathic reflection — my own growth — took place.

I’d like to share that moment with you now…

Becoming A New Version Of Empathic

This past summer there was an accident that resulted in the “tragic” loss of my neighbor’s life at 39 years of age. 

A heart-centered man, more than 6 feet 3 inches tall, he left behind 3 boys, all under the age of 17. 

And while that in and of itself, a “senseless” death, was something I had to accept, as he’d become a friend, a gentle soul with a ready smile, helping hand and watchful-brotherly-eye when my husband was off-island, I already had peace from marinating fully in a year of self-discovery...

I was no longer the woman who felt everything,

Who swam in the pain of others.

Who absorbed it all, the troubles, strife and sorrows of the world, as though it was mine to own.

Who hurt so deeply for others that it was often times hard to be IN this world…OF this world. 

But now, I had distance. Space. An ability to CHOOSE…to realize this man’s karma was his to own,

To see that his life, while cut-short by my “earth-bound” terms, but by universal-language…who knew...

His passing here was the opening to possibility elsewhere. 

And I could now FEEL that…I could now sink into that…and find the beauty.

It took a moment, but it came...the peace, acceptance, the lack of sinking into the emotions, the drama that comes with a sudden passing… 

Just as the recent passing of those lost in the LA helicopter accident recently that claimed the lives of so many including Kobe Bryant and his 13-year-old daughter, Gia, along with seven other beautiful souls…is perhaps an opening… 

Yet, this is not a normal way to look at loss. At death. Now is it?

In fact, some may feel it insensitive and cruel. 
And that’s okay.

Some may feel this loss, any loss, so deeply it keeps them from functioning, even though those gone are not personally known to them.

And this used to be me… feeling every single loss.

Absorbing every little thing.
Taking it all to heart.
Personally.

And that’s key — taking it all so gosh-darn-personally.

But now, now I can sink into a new horizon of possibility that comes in the passing of one’s life on this planet. 

And “tragic” loss was something I have personal experience with. 

How the pain can be gripping, debilitating in it’s all-consuming squeeze. That was me, when I lost my fiancé in a helicopter crash back in 2004.

And while this man was a neighbor and a new friend, and yes, close to home, as I saw him daily for a wave, a smile, a chat…there was distance for me on one level.

And on the other, not so much, as this accident happened just feet from my property line.

For those who are empathic, you may not realize or you may, that much of what is FELT is energy. 

Being empathetic can involve feeling and absorbing the energy around us and without an ability to create clear boundaries around that energy...it’s overwhelming, painful even. 

That was so me. 

No boundaries. 

My Fabulous Frenchman would tell me about African skull crushers, where, yep, they shrunk skulls down and put them in their pockets for whatever reason and I’d be horrified for...years. 

I’d carry that thought, that VISION, in my mind for not just days, weeks or months but years. 

He’d share something about an animal that was wounded and the graphic details or god-forbid, before he KNEW me, the image…

He’d tell me about his time as a detective in the French Police and before I could stop him, just one word could send me spiraling with a string of visual images that I was powerless to stop or forget (at that time).

And I’d be a basket case, literally (choosing) to suffer for hours, days, weeks, months, longer over an animal, a person or a situation that I’d never touched or be a part of. 

At the time, of course, I did not realize it was a CHOICE to feel this way, to be affected like this. 

At the time, I thought I was broken…

And often heard the well-meaning words of my father…”You’re too sensitive.”

And I slowly bought into my husband’s theory that I needed to shed the “rose-colored glasses” and see the world through real-eyes, through facts and through “people are evil” eyes. 

Basically, to suck it up and toughen up. 

He meant well and I CHOSE to step into this view…or try.

And it was SO incredibly painful. 

To go through life thinking I was “broken” and always trying to “toughen up” to please my father, who in all fairness simply didn’t want me to constantly be hurt, let down, disappointed, in pain over the actions of others… 

It was so horribly depressing to need to be “fixed” by a husband who, in all fairness, couldn’t bare to see me so deeply and negatively affected by the news, by the actions of others, by everyday life. Disappointed by our tenants and triggered at every turn. 

My husband simply thought if I became more “logical” and looked at life from a place of “facts” that I’d have an easier path than being “so emotional all the damn time.”

And that lead me down a path of serious depression… 

Because let’s face it, I’m not a fact-based person.

I’m not a logic-first being, I am a feeler.
I am kinesthetic, an empath and…
I am not broken… 

My ability to FEEL makes me a f-ing awesome writer, makes me relatable to others, allows me to teach with compassion, coach with empathy and love wholeheartedly…

Yet, without boundaries

Without true understanding 
Without the knowledge from my guide and mentor
Without some coaching around understanding what I was experiencing...

I was baking in my FEELINGS or stuffing them…

I was broiling in the emotions of others.

I was the always-bubbling broth in an industrial-size pot, constantly under fire and allowing others to stir me sidewise, spin me clockwise and change my temperature at random.

And before I knew better, I allowed others to toss ‘the ingredients of everyday life’ at me, at their will, and destabilize me at every turn. 

I’d spent 40 years in this constant state of stress, unease, emotional highs and lows, not understanding myself nor the world and more drama-filled than a stunning heroine of a Latin TV Novella.

Not knowing how to cope beyond running. 
Beyond two steps forward, five steps back. 
Three steps back into life. 
One step retreat-retreat-retreat!

My life was a constant push-pull. 
Pull-push.

I had so much to say, to offer, to be and do…
However, I was a basket case of emotional cobwebs. 

I learned to stuff the emotions. That saved me. Until it didn’t. 

At first, it was a way to cope. 

In school. 
In life. 

All that stuffing…

Then it made me ill. 
So ill, my body started to shut down. 

And a few times, those emotions, that stuffing, was so toxic it depleted my body of needed minerals like iron and important vitamins. 

Of course, modern medicine won’t back that theory, but now I KNOW. 

And now I can give modern medicine a bit of a middle-finger (with love) because they also don’t know why suddenly my levels are stable when they have not been since my pre-teen years. 

See, I am no longer that liquid broth in someone else’s pot of life. 

I am no longer being tossed to-and-fro
Stirred this way and that
Shared amongst all
Heated to a boil only to be cooled then heated up again. 

I no longer accept the ingredients of others, the trigger of someone else’s fire nor the spinning of my own brain. 

I also no longer allow my emotions to sit and stew or age in my body like a fine French red wine that the next morning gives the mother of all headaches. 

I learned early on to create a sanctuary of my own for my mental health, emotional need to decompress and frankly, my ability to run and hide away from others. 

See, I’m an introvert. 
And I’m an extravert. 

I’m an influencer. 

And I have a deep-rooted need for me-time, down-time, a separation from the energy of others, solo time. 

I learned this after a four-year stint with the husband and raising his two children, each when they were 15 years of age, when I let go of my sanctuary and didn’t have “me” time. 

We saw first-hand that if I don’t have me-time, a space or place to call my own, I die. 

Cell by cell by cell. Literally. It was touch and go there for a bit.

But that too was a gift. 

Gaining that awareness. 

But the biggest gift of all was this past summer with the loss of my friend, my neighbor, and moving into that grief with the same empathic eyes minus the filters I’d carried before. 

Eyes opened wide thanks to all I’ve learned this last year… 

As the accident happened only feet away, and I live on an island, in a little 100+ year old cottage, on a hill, overlooking the ocean, where I sit all day and write - a childhood dream that became my reality (thanks in part to an awesome husband), I did something I’d never had been able to do in the past. 

I opened the doors to my sanctuary, my cottage, to those who needed a place to regroup. 

Living on a five-square mile island means one road. And that road was closed down. 

It means everyone knows your name, like an episode of Cheers. 

It means people become look-y-loos. 

Curious. 
Interested.
Consumed. 

And this man, this tender soul, he was the island Fire Chief. Known. Loved. 

So you can imagine the pain, the deep-rooted loss of those fire/rescue men coming to handle this accident. 

Coming to realize it was one of their own, their boss, their friend, an island native many had grown up with… 

But they also had a job to do. 
They also had a crowd of onlookers to keep back.
They also had their own emotions to keep in check.

And there was no place to simply be, to take a needed breath and to feel before stepping back into the role they were trained to fill. 

So, I gave them that space. 

I opened my cottage doors. 
My sanctuary. 
And I extended my boundaries, by CHOICE, to allow them… 

The police
The fire 
The rescue team
The island priest
The father of the man lost
A safe place to be.

Away from watchful eyes.

And I did not become that simmering broth tossed around by their sadness

Their pain, their grief
Their strength in the face of it all. 

I discovered I could FEEL
I could escape to my shower
(the only place in my cottage behind two closed doors)

And allow myself to FEEL all the sad of others without absorbing and internalizing their experience.

Yes, I cried. 
Yes, I felt sad. 
Yes, I grieved. 

But I also, for the first time ever, almost immediately RELEASED that grief by fully feeling into it. 

And letting it go.

For the first time ever, I felt their energy, the pain of these big men as they came and went from the scene…As they entered my home… 

Some for a bottle of water.
Some for a moment to catch their own breath.

Some to shed a quick tear and mourn for a moment before pushing back their shoulders and marching back out to serve their community, their friend, their chief a final time. 

I felt it all, but from a distance. 

I felt it yet remained whole, me, detached from it. 

For the first time, I KNEW what it meant to be truly empathetic…An empath (with borders). 

It was the ability to FEEL deeply and NOT make it all about me. It was the ability to be fully present for another, for many in this case, and not be consumed by their suffering.

That was the gift I chose to receive through the passing of my friend, and I can still cry from the pure peace he gifted me… 

And yep, I said cry.
Because feeling what I feel when I feel it, makes me strong.

Stuffing those tears made me weak.

Feeling my feelings as they come up
Makes me the powerful woman — blooming into goddess — that I am.
It’s when I sink into that feeling, 

When I CHOOSE to rest in it, lay in it, wrap myself in it like a comfy blanket… 
That’s when I was broken. 

It’s when I CHOOSE to absorb the emotions of others and call them my own 

That’s when I lose my way.

It’s in that moment that I have chosen not to own my own empathic power. 

And now, thanks to my friend, bless him on his new path...

Thanks to self care...
Thanks to self love...
Thanks to coaching through a new way of sharing healthy FEELINGS…

I can love me even more.
I can be a person who feels
Without being an emotional basket case.
I can be sensitive 
And reject the “too sensitive” label.

I can care deeply but not be overwhelmed by anything.

I can instead choose peace.

I can now see the separation between the emotions, the baggage of others, the choices of another and NOT entangle my energy in any of it. 

I can now choose me first. 

I can now protect me, my energy, my peace above all else and this has resulted in such power, such incredible abundance, such clarity and joy that there is no going back. 

It’s now easy where once it seemed impossible to separate me, my emotions and be in this world but not of this world.
I can share the journey through my words, as I am doing here

And know that the message will reach those who most need to hear what it means to truly be empathic.

To truly feel
To truly stand strong
As an empath… 
And no longer choose to lose oneself 

But instead see it as a powerful gift, that is not “all-about-you,” but is simply another way of BEING. 

Just like seeing death as the possibility of a precious gift 

When CHOOSING to look through new, aware eyes.

I wish you a new level of sight… 

And in that a new-found peace that will bring you more JOY than you can imagine. 

If this post resonated with you in any way, please leave a comment below and do share it with a friend or two. You’re here for a reason, and perhaps because you too are an empathic being.

And thus know a few…

Give them the gift of this read today.

And remember, to access all the JOY-SUBSCRIBER CONTENT, which after 24-hours this becomes just that, become a JOY-SUBSCRIBER today.

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Photo Credit: Dennis Alvear Perez @saintdennis_

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Journaling This Way Should Be A Life Requirement

Journaling this way should be a life requirement because the results are no joke — awesome.

When I taught my high school and middle school students, I had them write a one-page essay every day as Bellwork.

Yep, one page.

That one exercise catapulted them to success and even impacted the school, which went from a D rating to an A after that year.

Now I’m not taking credit for that massive jump in testing results, because quite frankly I think tests suck and are biased.

However, I do know that writing or journaling is point blank the best thing you can do for yourself.

And my students proved it by coming back to me year after year with thank yous and gratitude for making them write each and every day — because now they could.

In college.
In the workforce.
In life.
And, as it turns out, in their journals.

Seriously, I sound like a broken record and yes, I am also naturally a writer, so you might be thinking Yeah, this is easy for her. 

But it’s not. 

Not always.

Just like it wasn’t easy for those teenagers. But they did it. Every day for one year… and I taught in the public school system for four and a half years. That’s a lotta words written…

And it translated for many into what I want to share with you here today.

It’s my secret sweet-salty sauce. You know the one ingredient, spice, add that you just can’t place that makes your taste buds dance in delight when trying that new dish.

Writing a story or an article is one thing.

For me, that's easier than writing in my journal or even writing a letter to someone.

Writing down truth, on paper, about myself, that can be hard. And eye-opening.

But, also so flipping rewarding because it’s RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF ME. 

My words, my truth and my honest reality. 

Not always pretty but that honest look, at least for me, is where the true reward comes. 

There is something about the act of journaling, that allows my brain to process what's needed when it's out of my head and in front of me on paper.

There’s something powerful in putting intangible thoughts down on paper that suddenly makes them incredibly accessible - touchable.

And within reach.

So, let’s get our journaling on this week.

Now, this isn’t just any kind of journaling. This is an I AM Journaling Method that will rock your world.

Yep! I said it and you can quote me.

It’s a way of showing up, on paper and in the world, as though what you wrote has already happened.

This isn’t a new idea but it’s one I took to like a bird naturally takes to flight and it literally changed my universe… 

Ha, not just my world! 

This one idea, habit or way of being, when you look back in 52 weeks, has so much power to transform what is in your life. 

This one practice, when implemented, WILL CHANGE YOUR FLIPPING LIFE.

Hold me to it.

In fact, at the end of just four weeks of journaling -- that’s only 30 days, yo -- you won’t be the same. 

See, it’s just not possible to start writing out our thoughts in a language of universal command and not see an impact. 

So, if you wanna bet, I expect you to email me or come back and post here 30 days from today -- the day you start your I AM JOURNALING journey.  

And I’m so confident your life will change and amazing things will unexpectedly start to take root and show up for you that I’m willing to comp you one year of my JOY-Subscription if you can prove that after just 30 days nothing positive came into your realm of existence. 

But hey, do you really want to? Prove me wrong.

Or do you want to take up the challenge and quite possibly drastically improve your life?

Seriously!

When you start writing WHO you are BEING as though you already ARE… well, your life changes.

When you start to write WHAT you are DOING as though IT ALREADY IS, well hold on because life gets seriously Fun! 

(Yep, with a capital F)  

When you start writing the things, feelings or experiences you want in your life AS THOUGH THEY ALREADY TOOK PLACE…it’s a done deal.

Because it is.

But here’s the other deal. Those who actually do this practice, review what they started to write AS THOUGH IT ALREADY IS, are amazed by what they find.

We forget, naturally, what we wrote a month ago, a week ago, two days ago.

We, humans, have the attention span of a goldfish. Less than 8 seconds. Literally.

But when you read back over past journals, suddenly you will start to SEE your current life in your PAST words. And that’s amazing, cool and exciting.

So, start today by journaling what you want to show up in your life over the next year, how you want to feel and who you want to be and write from a place of it’s already in existence - as if it ALREADY IS.

Even if it sounds a bit woo-woo because literally you have nothing to lose!

But hey, if you’re not fully convinced that this life-changing exercise can work for you, it’s okay, seriously! Simply go ahead and start convincing yourself today and watch the positive impact unfold in huge (and small) ways over the next 7, 14, 21 days… 

Then make a date with yourself 30 days from today, or your start date, to re-read your entries… 

Why? Well, I’ve seen from my own life and from those of my student’s experiences that you might just be blown away.

You might be so blown away by what IS now in your life, things that match what you wrote in your journal, that you start to do this work on the regular… 

Not just for 30 days! 

And you may decide to review your journal at the end of each week, instead of every 30 days.

A former student of mine told me that when she started to review her words each Sunday for the previous week, well, her results seemed to increase… 

When I asked her what she meant by “seemed to increase” she said, what at first took her a week to see started to come into her life within days, even hours. 

Like unexpected money…overnight.A new client out of the blue…when she put out the thought to impact more people.

An offer on her home when it had been sitting quietly on the market for over 52 days with no showing…  

When I say this practice works...well, I’m not just talking out of the side of my cute mouth, friend. 

It’s easy to see the results when the writing is right in front of you to review…
Is it not? 

So, from my point of view you have nothing to lose by giving this new way of being a go. 

Simply grab a notebook or journal today - it can be fresh and clean and cute or it can be scraps of torn paper you staple together. 

It matters not. 

What counts is starting, committing and following through. 

Isn’t it time you put your all into something that will benefit you enormously?

Isn’t it past time for you to take care of yourself and build the future, the dream, you most desire? 

Now is your time, friend. 

Make writing your thoughts this way a new daily practice.
Make thinking this way your new art.
Make reviewing your I AM Journal every 30 days your new way of being. 

I AM Journaling should be taught when kids can first write. 

It should be as routine as brushing our teeth. 

So make it your new addiction! 

Because this way of showing up, thinking and being raises the bar and makes life so much FUN.

And life should be fun.

If you’re anything like me, you’re dying for an example. So here it is. 

This morning I wrote in my journal

• I AM an honoring, loving and kind partner to my Frenchman.

• I AM a steady rock in a sea of change - from the ebb and flow of moons to the drama that can be life, I do not waver in BEING at peace. 

• I AM healthy, happy and whole at each moment of each day. 

• I AM blessed with more energy today than I experienced yesterday. 

• I AM prosperous and my impact is felt globally through the viral spreading of my SuperPower - words. 

• I AM adding the best number of new JOY-SUBSCRIPTIONS each day and impacting at least ten or more lives a day with my words.

• I AM overflowing with gratitude for each breath I take, each step I walk, each word I write (or say) and each person I touch, impact and serve. 

• I AM manifesting abundance in every thought I have. 

• I AM deliciously JOYful every moment of every day.

• I AM filled with love for all that is. 

• I AM excited to cook in my now-done cottage kitchen and have a morning coffee off my ‘secret garden’ patio now that it’s completed, tiled and filled with delicate orchids.
  
  (Side note: This is under construction but in my journal and in my mind it is done.) 
  

• I AM impacting the ONE who reads this post with all that is possible for them, and in turn, they spread that ripple of JOY by sharing this message times three or more.

• I AM blessed that my website (this site) has touched, moved, healed and inspired more than 1 million lives around the world in one year alone!
  
  (Side Note: This is my truth and will be my reality because I say it, know it, release it as done.)
  

• I AM honored that the words I write heals broken hearts.

• I AM living my dream of writing impactful words daily, coaching perfectly imperfect creators who reach out each day and book sessions, and empowering all who visit this site with more JOY.

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Your Assignment Should You Choose To Grow Into Your Own Abundance… 💜

I encourage you to begin I AM JOURNALING now in the comments below by simply completing this line...

I AM living the dream of…
(Insert your dream here and remember, the more specific you are the better!)

Need a helping hand with this I AM JOURNALING METHOD..?
I get it. Sometimes a guide makes all the difference. I’m thinking about being just that…a guide…for 30 days of I AM Journaling help, prompts and how-to insights with some live interaction — Workshop Style.

If this floats your boat, leave me a comment below and say I WANT IN and I’ll set it up... The idea is there, the method is known and works, I simply need to know you want IN!

PS - And if you’re more a 1-to-1 peep, I feel you. I too have a coach who guides me. Book a transformational hour with me now and let’s get your rocking and rolling into massive, magnetic momentum. Click the banner below and discover more now.

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Photo Credit: Trent Szmolnik @ts_imagery

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One Hour Does Have The Power To
Open Doors & Transform Your Life

100 Days Of Kicking Perfect — A New Way Of Being

This might sound counter-intuitive, like back-ass-ward, and what the heck, maybe it is, but it has to be said.

I’ve not been disciplined.
I’ve not been structured.
I’ve not been strategic.
I’ve not been accountable.
I’ve not been using the precious time I have wisely.

To counteract this, I’ve decided to implement a perfectly-imperfect solution. 

A disciplined structure where I use my time to hone my voice, my craft, my skill via my weapon of choice — words.

The question becomes, what if I do something for 100 days. Full stop. 

Meaning, each day, upon rising, I know that I must write something that has meaning (to me at least) and train my brain, body and molecules to focus, to commit, to have self-integrity, and, dare I say, have fun.

See when I lose sight of JOY, my life stops working.

In the past that’s led me to misery, to stagnant, to depressed, to over-achieving, too sick. 

And none of those ways of being is who I now choose to be in this life. 

I now get it. 
My time here is limited. I am capable of doing anything, everything or nothing. 

I’ve all but perfected the art of nothing. In the past… 
Always creating and striving and learning and stalling only to never release, never share, never fulfill my karma or dharma.

This happened with Education Lady, a project I worked on, released, succeeded at then stopped doing and instead drowned in perfecting. I speak on it in this Episode 2: The Story of Complication & Struggle.

Well, now I no longer tolerate excuses from myself. 

Now I have chosen to take ten steps forward before allowing myself to consider one step back. 

My old pattern was the reverse of that. 

One step in and ten steps out. 

Retreat. Retreat. Retreat. 

Well, now it’s all hands on deck, forward march, burn the boats, baby. I’m all in. 

And my one step back is healthy now. It’s a space of reflection, a step of ease and rest and if I don’t take it will burnout and the old way of being would ensue, I’d imagine. 

I do, after all, have a few years of practice perfectly this old way of being. 

Enough to know it no longer serves me, a need to perfect. 
A stuck in the art of doing-ness that is filled to the brim with frustration.

Now I know what it feels like to access JOY and understand that it’s as vital to me as the blood that flows through my veins to carry oxygen to all my physical parts. 

JOY is in. 
Perfectionism is out.

JOY is in.
Procrastination is out.

JOY is in.
Blame and shame are out.

JOY is in. 
Excuses can go to hell.

JOY is in.
BOOM.

Join me now for a
100 Days of the Kicking Perfect

The concept is simple.

When I get out of my own perfect way, all works. When I come from a place of JOYFUL peace and play, all flows. 

When I stop the over-thinking my life is mic-drop good. 
When I work from gratitude and a KNOWING that all is as it should be, things flow.
When I live in absolute abundance instead of striving for perfection, my life is amazing. 

If this sounds like your cup o tea, then join me on this 100 days journey of being a kicking perfect version of you… 

A Perfectly Imperfect Creator. 

Each day. 

BE: The one thing you can be grateful for above all else. 

DO: The one thing that is GOOD ENOUGH as is and needs to go out-the-door done.

HAVE: The one thing you will enjoy today in celebration of kicking perfect for another trip around the 24-hour clock.

Leave a comment with your BE-DO-HAVE Kicking Perfect Daily below, for today and come back anytime you feel the need for accountability.

Or start this process in your journal.

Last note.

Imagine if you “trained” yourself to only have one moment, one post (as many words or as few as you so desire) in which to vent on an issue or challenge you are facing. 

It’s like spending only 15 minutes worrying about money when your old way of being was to worry more than 23 hours a day. Don’t tell me you didn’t have nightmares, friend!

A complete 180 and the possibilities of what that will open for you… endless. 

See worry takes so much energy.
Complaining takes up so much space.
Over-thinking and over-analyzing and over-questioning keeps us stuck. 

So for the next 100 days I want you to see the power of this new way of being… 

Limited time to moan.
Limited space to exert energy on that which does not serve you.
Limited ears to listen to the whine. 

This is about holding yourself accountable to a higher standard, higher vibration and attracting more of what you WANT into your life. 

Because, let’s face it, no one wants to be stuck in this never-ending loop of perfect. 

It’s flipping lonely.
Exhausting. 
Downright painful. 

But on the other side of Kicking Perfect to the curb, well, there’s a freedom, a JOY and a peace that is deliciously divine. 

And over the next 100 days or less, you may just discover it…if you commit to kicking that need for perfect.

If you’re in, post below and start YOUR 100 days.

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One Hour Does Have The Power To
Open Doors & Transform Your Life

What I Tell Myself...Words Matter

I never gave much thought to having a personal mantra, even though before I fall asleep I always mentally whisper the words Happy, Healthy, and Wealthy.

Hmm, I guess that could be considered a mantra. But really, what is a mantra anyway?

From Hindu to Buddhist traditions, mantras have been serving people who wish to go inward. 

For that is what a mantra is truly about — a deeper dive within.

There are Sanskrit mantras that one can memorize and study. But in all my studies of mantras, and not extensive by any means, the one common thread I sense is a tapping into your own knowing. 

And this, for me is the key. 

I never heard that four-word line from anyone — Happy, Healthy, and Wealthy. I simply said it one day, repeated it again, and it stuck for me. 

Those are important ideals, words or ways of being…for me. 

To be happy is everything and from that energy, that place, all is possible. 
To be healthy makes life so much more enjoyable and I’ve experienced both sides. 
To be wealthy has a ‘wealth’ of possibilities for me — from relationships to who I am being and to monetary abundance. 

I could write a dissertation on this one word alone! But we’ll save that for another day. The important thing to note, at least for me though, is that wealth is so much more than “show me the money” moments.

I’ve never sat and learned a mantra, per se, but I know they can be powerful for some and this last year I tapped into one that’s uprooted my foundations. 

It’s so simple yet so profound. 

My new mantra is steal-able easy. It doesn’t replace the old, but it adds a new layer to my life, my self-confidence, my self-esteem, and my very beingness. 

It’s three words. It’s powerful. And it’s life-changing.
I Love Myself.
That’s it.

That’s what I say (internally) at every moment of every day.
I Love Myself.

To love yourself is the very best gift you can give - to you and to others. When you love, you radiate. When you are in love, you shine, you glow.

When you come across a person who’s in love — you’ve seen it — that effortless JOY that adds a spring to that person’s step, a gleam to their eye, a flush to their cheeks, and a warmth that draws you in.

That feeling.
 That vibration.
That BEing-ness is delicious… 
Is contagious… 
And can be your norm…

IS your normal setting, when you start saying and (maybe slowly) start believing these three words.
I Love Myself.

Imagine if you embodied that feeling of being in love each and every moment - and start today by loving yourself.

Imagine having the glow about you, that gleam in your eye, that flush to your cheeks, that spring in your step. 
I Love Myself. 

Everything is brighter when we feel this way, is it not? 

The sky is bluer. The stars seem closer. The mundane isn’t so blah.
Life is more fun.
I Love Myself. 

The little things don’t rub you the wrong way and the big things more easily brush off like lint off of linen pants. 
Life becomes much lighter from this place of 
I Love Myself. 

Since adopting this new mantra, something has shifted for me. 

First, I didn’t fully grasp how much I didn’t love myself until I felt how hard it was to say these three little words… 

Need a bit of help? Feel it’s silly? I understand… I felt silly saying it over and over… but now, now I am forever mumbling those three words to myself, under my breath, in my head.

When I bake.
When I meditate.
When I write.
When I drive.
When I walk.
When I work.
When I kiss my Frenchman…
When I’m falling asleep…

When I wake up, before even opening my eyes...

And the shift in my life…my health…my BEing-ness.
Well, that’s article worthy.

But what’s important to note is how ridiculous I felt at first. How much of a fraud I felt when muttering those words while brushing my teeth, staring into my own eyes in the bathroom mirror. 

And every now and then, I’d feel an opening, a chill, a moment of — something. 
Belief?
Peace? 
Joy?

I decided to go for it… 30 Days of trying it all-day-long, every day. 
I Love Myself. 

How hard could it be, right? 

The first few days I did feel ridiculous. 

I did have a voice in my head literally scoff at me and all but laugh. 
And that showed me the power of that critical side that is me — was me. 

Because at some point in repeating the line I Love Myself over and over again throughout the day, there was an opening, an awakening, a space created where that inner voice of negative self-talk stopped.

Where I felt a JOY that was like a belly laugh without the sound.
Where I relaxed in my own body.
Where I stopped striving and spinning and thinking so damn much. 
Where I could stop and sit quietly for a few moments and simply say those three words over and over and over again in my head. 

I Love Myself
I Love Myself
I Love Myself

And in those moments, there were suddenly conversations with myself, negative self-talk, I was no longer willing to have — because I Loved Myself. 
There was suddenly this ability to push away that sh*thead voice that dissed me way too often, the voice of an older version of me — because I Loved Myself. 

There was a desire to tap into more of what I enjoyed and no longer focus on that which I didn’t love in my life. 

It’s like my entire being started to pulse and vibrate with happy…

With JOY...
With wonder…
With peace…
With more smiles 
And laughter…
Simply because I Loved Myself.

If you’re wondering how I discovered these three little words because I sure as heck wasn’t taught to say them, although I truly now know I was born knowing them… 

We all are…
And then we forget. 

But I found my way back to this knowing that I Love Myself through a short, simple, delightful book. 
Love Yourself Like Your Life Depends On It, by Kamal Ravikant. And literally, your life does depend on it. 

When you love yourself, all is possible. 
When you love yourself, all becomes easy.
When you love yourself, all the good, the abundance simply flows to you…

Because all is energy and like attracts like. 

So I Love Myself is my new state of being and it’s now something I sink into knowing, believing, and owning. 

I still say it in the mirror each morning, and often spit toothpaste all over the mirror in the process. The perfect way to start the day…for real. 

If this message hit you, resonated with you, or calls to you, grab the book today, right now, that started it all for me. 

It’s an hour read (literally) and has the power to transform your world, as it did mine. Simply grab the e-version of it and make a date with yourself over a cup-o-tea. 

You don’t need ten steps to enlightenment or seven ways of being to get somewhere you currently feel you are not. 

Imagine if it’s as simple and possible as uttering three little words over and over throughout the day… I Love Myself. 

The author brings home just how impactful this mantra was for him and now for me and so many others who’ve read this short-n-sweet book. 

He’s also placed a few exercises within that are amazing ways of being that have shifted my life and the way I show up. 

Grab your copy, give it a go, and imagine how cool your life could be in 30 days or less if you truly stepped into a KNOWING of I Love Myself. 

When We Need Support…

Now sometimes, for some, getting to that space of believing the words I Love Myself doesn’t come simply, naturally or easily. However, what if you came from a place of knowing you are exactly where you are meant to be at this moment? 

How would that change things for you? 

If you need help pondering this question or seeing the blocks present that are keeping you from truly believing these three most powerful of words, consider hiring a coach.

Someone who speaks in a way you resonate with. Someone who can reflect back to you what you just might be missing, the one thing holding you back from accepting yourself, loving yourself, having all you desire in your life

Whether it’s hiring me when I have openings or another, matters not.

What matters is finding the best person for you at this moment. The individual who cuts to the heart of where you are, what you don’t see clearly or at all, and enables you to bridge the gap quickly.

This can be done in one session, or several, and doesn’t always take years of therapy… Take it from me, one who’s been there, done that. 

While therapy has its place, personally, for me, coaching has enabled me to tap into my own knowing and that’s a powerful place to live from.

Ultimately the goal is simple… come to love yourself. Utterly. Completely. Unconditionally. 

From there your world will shift in magical ways that will simply take your breath away and allow you to fall more in love with your life each and every day.

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Disclaimer: The link to Amazon is an affiliate link. The pennies we earn through affiliate commissions help us pay to keep this site live, free content flowing to help support you and Jessica in my corner. A girl can’t be without her right (and left) hand! 

Photo Credit: Danielle MacInnes @dsmacinnes

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What Transformation Looks Like (For Me)

Imagine always caring about what others think of you…

Imagine always worrying about the words that come out of your mouth…

Imagine if your constant rain of thoughts is so negative you want to pull the covers up over your head…and never-ever get up.

Imagine feeling less than, broken and so lost tears well up at any moment, day or night.

Well, that about sums up the old version of me. And what follows are topics that would have crushed me, spun me, shook me to the very core,

But no more…

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What Transformation Looks Like — For Me

A month ago I was told I was being ‘aggressive’
Because I spoke up to ask for clarity on something.

Two weeks ago I was felt I was being ‘mean’
Because I spoke up when something wasn’t done well. 

Last week I was unfriended
Because, well, I’m not exactly sure...

Yesterday I could have been disappointed 
Because someone “let me down”

Today I celebrate my growth.
Because none of it bloody matters. 

Because none of what used to matter so much to me
now matters a single bit. 

There is no hurt when someone shares how they perceive me,
where as in the past,
holy moley,
cue the water works.

There is no replaying a conversation in my head over and over, wishing I’d said this or that or stood up for myself differently.

There is no more believing I am a b*tch when I speak up, stand tall and firm in me.

There is simply no care of judgment from others. 

There is no space for the juvenile antics or petty crap that hindered me of old.

There is no attachment to any outcome, anymore and that has freed me to not be let down by people, and feel not of this world, every damn day.

There is only peace. 
Because none of it matters. 

There is no more sinking in and wallowing in a cesspool of feelings.
There is no thinking I am broken. 

Today I celebrate the realization that it no longer serves me.
To live to please others.
To shrink back.
To make them right.
To allow another to tell me who I am...being.

Today I stepped into my own power.

I am a soft, JOYful, loving female 
who is also a bad-ass, empowered woman.
And I no longer apologize for those two sides of me. 
I no longer stuff one down.
I no longer try to be liked by all.I no longer please…
Simply to please.

To not speak when the need to say something is there.
To receive words that are not mine to receive.
To accept things from another because I 
maybe, somehow some way...

...Deserve them.

Am a victim
Not good enough
Not lovable as me
Need to be more, better, different
Need to blend in 
Fit in
Be who everyone wants me to be.

No. More. Is. That. Me.
This is power.

And while it’s different, 
And while it’s not exactly a perfect fit
Like a comfy, cozy sweater on a brisk fall day
I am leaning in.
I am growing into the goddess of me.
The cosmic being who
Doesn’t care to be right
No longer judges others
Nor me.

And refuses to 
hide from that which doesn’t feel good.
Those feelings.
Those conversations.
Those moments.

But instead, goes all in.
Expectations shed
Limitations tossed aside
Emotions felt 
but no longer a simmering pot within. 

To stand up for me…
To hear words tossed my way…
To CHOOSE what I receive and what I do not
To see the mirror another is really speaking into That most often has nothing to do with me.

And feel nothing but love 
love 
love 
for them…

And to feel love for me... 
Even in a moment that point-blank sucks. 

Because there are intense momentsEnergetic spans where I feel an awareness
Raining down on me that’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

Instead, I’m open
Receiving
Allowing
Flowing.

No longer hiding
Behind a mask of me.
Behind expectations of me.
Behind the stories of my past
Fears of my future.

This, my friend, is new 
Is beauty within chaos 

Is the blooming of truth within.
And it’s fragrant 
It’s fresh
Like a fine dew just resting 
On the petals of all that is me. 

Own it. Acknowledge it. 
Be it. 
The growth...The shifts...
The truth peeking out 

Delicately…

It’s all so very free. 

To be finally 
rooted
and 
intentional 
as
me.

💜

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If any of this resonated with you, leave a comment below and then consider downloading your free copy of The Perfect Imperfect Manifesto, a quick read, that answers the question What If I’m Not Good Enough?

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Photo Credit: Paolo Chiabrando @chiabra

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Episode 2: The Story Of Struggle & Complication

Listen Time 8:11 — My admission of having a story of struggle and a need, or story, to make things way more complicated than needed.

Plus, my desire to shift this way of being to one of doing less and being more with this JOY-Scription project and site.

Hmm…this is gonna be a behind the scenes diary of how well I relax on the need to struggle and complicate.

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Sorry To Interrupt, Fabulous…

As It Was Just Warming Into Delicious…

I want to keep this short and sweet as I know you were about to get your read on with my words. And I appreciate that, your time and your interest, which is why I have to press pause for a second. 

Already A JOY-Subscriber and want to keep reading? Login Here, Sexy
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And So Much More JOY-Vault Content Today!

Plus, gain access to what everyone is talking about…word-JOY!

If, In 2019, You Told Me…

I’d suddenly be writing, as me, after hiding my skills behind ghost-projects, collaborations and numerous pseudonyms, I would have snort-laughed (in your face) and walked away. 

Not because I’m that rude, but simply because to write, as me, has been so far out of my reality of what is possible that it would never have even computed.

See, I’ve spent a good 30 years perfecting the art of hiding in plain sight and I share this because maybe you can relate. 

Maybe you too have not stepped fully into your own slice of sunlight, taken complete control of penning your own life-design, perhaps done what others have expected and you’ve landed here seeking something. 

Answers… Clarity… More JOY…
Or simply to be entertained by some uplifting words.

Whatever brought you here, thank you for taking the time.

I want you to read my words. All of them... and that’s a new feeling for me.
And dare I say uncomfortable. 

Yet, when we are uncomfortable, we grow…
When we find JOY, we expand…
When we laugh, we absorb… 

Which leads me to why I’m interrupting your read just when you were sinking into your flow.

Hey there, I’m Jill

And Words Are My SuperPower

I didn’t learn to read words till I was nine… And once I did, and found something delicious to sink into, it was on…

When I discovered my first purple pen… And that I could write words, create stories and share anything I desired…

Well, it was so on that I wrote my first 100-page story in 6th grade, making the teacher wait until I finished the very last line of that very-last-page.

Her words, when she handed the pile of pages back to me a week later… “Never stop.”

Some people say I’m woo woo. Other people say my words changed their life. Read on and decide for yourself.

But hey, don’t take me too seriously…

The Only Question Is
Are You Ready
To Receive More JOY In Your Life?

If The Answer Is Yes,
Join The JOY-Family Right Now. 

And when you do, please leave me a comment below so I can say hello!

Joining Takes Less Than 90 Seconds

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A VOW For An Insightful 20/20 New Year. New Decade. New Me.

This is a magical time. A unique moment where we are about to ring in not just a new year but a new decade. 

This moment is a precious span to gain clarity, to choose what you wish to bring forward and what you choose to leave behind. 

These words are my VOW of what was and what is and what’s to come in my life. 

It matters not the date, the year you find these words but the intention you hold as you absorb them. 

Why not get quiet today, choose those things, ways of being, stories, relationships and more you wish to keep and what no longer serves... 

And practice the art, as it totally is an art, of letting go. 

With grace. With ease. With JOY. 

Choose you. Choose this very moment.

💜

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A VOW

New Year, New Decade, New Me

I’ve been in limbo.
I’ve been deferring to others.
Even those who perhaps knew less.
Why?

Honestly, is the why of anything that important to know?
Or is the creeping awareness what is the most vital and impactful message..?
Which then allows one to stay--stuck
Or change.

I choose change.

I’m starting fresh.
I’m starting over.
And instead of it feeling scary as hell, I’m allowing it to just be.

No more stories.
No more drama.
No more blame, shame or seeking fame.

Okay, that last is funny as I’ve spent my life hiding, but maybe it will resonate with you.

Now I am in it for JOY.
Now I am focused on being of service
But not as a way to not work on myself.
Not how can I help myself, hide myself, serve my own best interests.

I’ve never been a completely selfish person,
In fact, I’ve very often gone too far the other way.

Putting others’ needs before my own.
Putting others’ feelings before my own.

Having no boundaries.
Feeling all the feels.

And all too often ending up
Hurt
Disappointed
Disillusioned
Lost in the stories of why me?

Hello, victimhood.
Hmm, yes martyrdom that’s you.

Only to repeat the same bloody pattern
over and over again.

And that too ends with this lovely decade.

See boundaries are a beautiful thing.
Loving myself, while it takes work, is a powerful place to serve from.

Because my oxygen mask is vital.
My next breath is hugely important, is it not?

Taking care of the temple of me must come first
Otherwise, all I do for others is a smokescreen.
And hey, I perfected the smokescreen as a wee lass so as not to deal with my own dysfunctional life.

That way of being was a way to drown the fish,
a saying my Fabulous Frenchman likes to quote.
Impossible, right, to drown a fish.
And that’s the point.

How is it possible to care too much?
Look it up, my picture of old will be what you see.

We slap on a name called Empathy and say it is what it is
But that’s a lie.
A story of old
And true empathy is a wasted gift when used as an excuse.
To excuse a way of being that is familiar.
Comfortable.
Hides the work that deep down is needed
Not in others
But in others -- me.
So no more excuses.
No more labeling
No more sinking into another’s issues
To avoid my own.

But now, only now, in my mid-forties, do I see that way of being is flawed.
Only now can I truly see that if I don’t first care about me,
About my own energy,
There will be no more me.
Just the continued pattern of give give give
Then burn out.

Sick. Sick. Sick.
Rest. Crash.
Heal
Just a bit
Hard each time to bounce right back…

Only to repeat that ebb and flow
Like it’s the proverbial staircase to heaven
Only this heaven is closer to hell
And going nowhere at all.

For even as I climb
Struggling
Striving
As that’s what you do, is it not?
My staircase is a moving conveyor belt going
Down.
Down.
Down.

See if everything is energy,
I must pay attention to mine.
If everything is energy, which we know it is
I must use mine with diligence, focus and joy.

Because action is simply energy in motion.
And inaction is a waste of time…
because while I may be “motionless” in my pursuit of whatever…
I’m still “in-motion”
the only difference is that instead of going toward something
impactful,
significate,
enjoyable
I’m stuck circling a round room searching for the corner…
(as my mentor likes to say).

See it’s time to call in a new way of being.
Stand rooted.
Implement with intention.

Be the being I choose to be.
Happy. Joyful. Loving. Brilliant. Impactful.
Because everything is a choice.
And how I choose to show up to this party called life is all on me.

So I choose this year to be rooted
To be intentional
To step out into my slice of sunlight
And shine bright.

To live from a place of joy, of gratitude, of complete and utter abundance
Because I know all has been, is and always will be fine.
But now,
Only now, can I choose to create my most delicious life.
And I’m going to open the doors and expose it all to you.

Like airing out a cute-as-a-button, closed-for-the-winter summer cottage
With gingerbread trim surrounded by green and evergreen mist…

I’m shaking off the protective white sheets from the furnishings of me.

I’m sweeping away the cobwebs of past stories and fears
To show each nook and cranny.

I’m wiping off the grit of misuse and doing a joyful dance into the next season of me.

I’m an open book.
Get it.
The Word Doctress
Writer of well, words…

Hider of that SuperPower,
Til now.

I’m collecting all the pieces of me
From Education Lady
To Jill-o-licious
To The Word Doctress
And more…

That I’ve kept stuffed away in different ornate, intricately-carved boxes
Only allowing out to play
One by one...

To come together to celebrate the awakening
The party
The homecoming
Of me.

So get your delicious self ready
because now I’m all here...
About to get messy,
get dirrty (yes, with two r-s)
And joyfully real.

William Shakespeare, at least we think, said
“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;”

Well, this is my entrance…
And I’m baring it all.

From the path, to the numbers, to the stumbles, spills and falls.
To the victory laps and small wins we so often forget to celebrate.

Observe at will
Learn if you so desire
Participate should you wish to advance yourself as well.

Because advancing myself
In Joy
In Peace
Is what this coming year is all about
And my oath to you, written here and now,
Is a documentation of all that is.

Because literally I start fresh…
At ground zero.
Nada.
Nothing.
Here. I. Am.

Whole.
Complete.
Stripped
Down.
Starting
Again.

And I invite you to join me on this wild, epic ride
that will reveal just what is possible
when one lives from a place of complete trust.
Complete abundance.
Complete dedication to being all in.

From Rooted Intention
And being seriously aligned with values.

For me, values of
Joy (Joyful Play)
Integrity
And…

Well, let’s leave the last as a surprise, shall we now?!
Every good chapter needs a cliffhanger so that the reader turns the page.
So go ahead and join me
And turn the page on
Start to
…will not finish
But all that is in between…

I’m going to pull back the curtain
Expose all I do
All I learn
All I earn
As I go through this insightful year
20/20
And discover what it means to
Truly put myself first
Be the version of me
Who creates a ripple
or a tidal wave of impact.

Joyfully.
Intentionally.
Measurably.

Have a VOW you care to share or wish to comment on how these words resonated with you? I read each and every comment with gratitude, so post below. I can’t wait to read your words!

And if you wish to add more JOY to your life and read even more delicious words like this, check out the JOY-Subscription.

More words, more access, more JOY. Nothing beats that…other than more chocolate!

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Photo Credit: Bud Helisson @budhelisson

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