I’m in love. Before coming to Australia, I felt like something was off like I wasn’t being congruent with who I am...like I was missing something. Ever felt like that?

Like, OMG, I’ve created everything I’ve ever wanted - a business I adore, with a family I absolutely love, an awesome Queen team, able to travel the world, live the #laptoplifetstyle - but....why am I not more motivated to go for more? What’s missing in my life? 

In the past, I’ve gone down the rabbit hole searching for all those answers in all the wrong places - in men, in food, in looking a certain way, in needing validation from other people. All fruitless, meaningless dead ends.

It’s easy to start swinging for the fences, throwing spaghetti against a wall in moments like this. Maybe this thing! Maybe this thing! Oh, shiny! Maybe this!

But it’s never a thing, it’s about WHO YOU BE. 

And if your present self is out of alignment with your Future Self, no amount of doing, or spaghet

Feeling the pressure to perform right now - to do more in your business? To push harder? Does it feel like it’s stretching the walls of what you thought you were capable of?

...But, if we’re being honest, you like it...the pressure. 

When it’s the right amount, it’s a rush to see what you can create, accomplish, and what can flow forward when there are external pressures - time, money, deadlines. 

CREATIVITY IS LIKE SEX. 

When an idea penetrates your mind, and it is the pressure that allows for the oh-so-good orgasm of genius to flow from your mind into physical reality.

PRESSURE IS NECESSARY TO BIRTH ANYTHING INTO REALITY. 

During physical labor, there is the pressure of contractions, just as there are inevitably contractions throughout creation until what you’ve created is birthed into physical reality. Meaning…

The book is published.

The show is on Netflix.

The offer is being put out there. 

THE COURSE IS COMPLETED. 

The...

Have you ever felt like you couldn’t get started because you didn’t have any creative ideas? Have you ever dallied down the dark spiral of feeling uninspired, waiting, hoping, praying, NAY! BEGGING to the gods on high for some spark of inspiration? For some light to shine forth upon you from the heavens showering you with genius? 

Sometimes a light comes on. Sometimes a switch is flicked in the midst of “not doing anything” and a pure stroke of brilliance whacks you like a lightning bolt.

...But more often than not, you gotta sit your butt down do the freaking work.

CREATIVITY IS LIKE SEX. 

Sometimes you’re not in the mood, not really inspired to do it, but a kiss here, a touch there, a little flirtation, and once the making out starts, you’re like “Okay, I’m game.” 

SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOT TO GET MOVING TO GET THOSE CREATIVE JUICES FLOWING. 

And then after, you’re like “That was amazing! Let’s do it again tomorrow...or in an hour!” 

THERE ARE SOME DAYS I WANT TO RETREAT.

There are times when I just want to cower and hide and bury myself in the cocoon of my blankets and pretend like the world around me doesn’t exist. 

There are moments, sometimes days when I just want to hide behind the veil of “not knowing how” and quietly sip the poison of my excuses and allow its slow erosion eat through the intestines of my dreams like colitis of the creative.

Yes, I have my moments. Sometimes they even last a day.

I hide knowing that I will be rebirthed through the labor pains as I dig through the plagiarized programming, conditioned addicted feelings of “not-enoughness” and “who cares” because I know what’s on the other side...

Sweet freedom.

Freedom from the matrix of what society, people, the world says I should think/do/be.

Freedom from the fears that bind me to the mast of the sinking vessel of who I have been. 

FOR IT IS WITH COURAGE AND FAITH THAT WE RISE BEYOND. 

We face that

I lost a friend to COVID. Don’t worry she’s still alive, she didn’t have COVID...she was plagued like many, with fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of a different opinion about fear. Fear of being wrong about fear. Fear of fear. 

I lost her because she no longer wanted to be my friend. 

It still hurts sometimes. Fear always does. 

Deep down, I’m sure there’s still that little five-year-old girl in me who’s begging to be liked, praying that someone will just love her, notice her, accept her for who she is.

I didn’t want to share this. I felt embarrassed. Marred - like you would think that I’m a bad person for admitting that someone out there in the ether didn’t like me or what I put out there on the interwebs. Ashamed, questioning? Should I feel bad? 

Should I not have shared what was on my heart and soul about how I saw people treating other people - using a pandemic to shame, blame, vilify, and divide people who have a different opinion, different d

When I first started my business, I marketed and worked with 99% women - fierce, badass, driven, ambitious women who wanted it all and who were willing to put their nose to the grindstone, do the work, hustle hard, pedal to the metal, push themselves until they broke down or burnt out, the go-go-goal-getters who were driven AF to move heaven and earth to do the work.

Usually, it was from a place of giving, of service, of a desire to be more, do more, share more, serve more. It didn’t matter whether they were giving to 1300 students in an online course, or giving money, time, energy, to their kids, giving to everyone, everyone...except themselves.

Giving from lack is not giving from love.

This shows up as…

Being on the verge of burn out or breakdown, beating yourself against the form of how something “should” be or “should” work to serve your customers. 

Not asking for help, when your soul (and your sanity) is crying out for it.

Going overtime whe

“I don’t want to come off as too salesy.”  

My client was struggling with what a lot of solopreneurs struggle with - how much is too much selling? How do you balance messaging and adding value with selling? 

Let me ask you this…

“When you go into a coffee shop, do you get mad or upset at the barista for trying to sell you coffee?”

“No…” my client looked at me quizzically.

“Have you ever had a barista say, ‘I’m sorry, I’m not feeling worthy today of selling you a coffee?’”

“No,” she said with a laugh.

I persist, “And even if, let’s say, that did happen, and you were standing in the coffee shop, even just considering purchasing a coffee, even if you weren’t sure what you wanted, and that barista said that to you, you’d possibly even feel a little offended, right? Like, why are you saying you’re “OPEN” then if you’re not going to sell me a dang cup of coffee?’ Right?”

She laughed, “I think this is what you call...a BREAKTHROUGH.” 

Ah, food for my soul.

“Who is this person?” I thought. Fifteen minutes had flown by, my thumb was pulsating as my soul was shrinking into Facebook oblivion. I caught myself in a moment of lightening awareness, with the thunderous rumble of creation roaring through my veins.

“What am I even doing?”

I’d spent the past fifteen minutes scrolling, sensing, feeling, consuming messages of hope, despair, light, darkness, facts, conspiracy, quotes, and images of lunch and COVID tests. What I’d accomplished...nothing. What I’d felt...everything. 

It’s easy to get enthralled into the black hole of consuming on social media. It gives our brains the dopamine rushes like a heroin addict as our thumbs repetitively shove the scrolling into our eyeballs, heightening our senses while simultaneously numbing them.

I put the phone down on the table and walked outside for a breath of fresh air.

Even as high performers, it’s easy to get lost in the addiction to consume - Netflix, alcohol, mindless scrolling on social med

Are you ever so freaking scared of doing the wrong thing? Making the wrong move? Being the “wrong” person for the job? 

I cannot tell you how many times I used to listen to what everyone told me what  I “should” be, “should” do, how I “should” feel. How much money I was “supposed” to make before I could call myself successful. How much struggle I was “supposed” to experience before I could experience fulfillment in the work that I do. How I was “supposed” to feel jaded about my industry, about my business, about life. How business was “supposed” to be done, and how if I didn’t do it to their f*ing blueprint that I was incapable, incompetent, and wrong. 

Well, pardon my French, but Fuck that merd.

No, you know what, in fact, don’t pardon my French. I curse. I let appropriately placed f*bombs rip through the sky and shower down the light of truth when necessary.

If that’s what will get through that you do not HAVE to be what you are SUPPOSED to be or what anyone says you SHOULD B

As a Type A, perfectionist, A+ student, I looooooved getting extra credit. Only 100? Why not 110%? Or 115%? Or...screw it...150%!! Yaaaaaas, teacher, please give me the extra work, the extra tasks, the extra assignments.

Easy to see how that could easily program one to associate MORE work, MORE suffering, MORE struggle with MORE results, right?

Here’s the thing...

MORE WORK JUST EQUALS MORE WORK. 

And what I’ve seen working with high achievers for the past 3 years, and being one for the last...well, ALL the years of my life...is that so often we make it an even trade:

WORK X AMOUNT HARD = X AMOUNT OF RESULTS

Where are the miracles, the fun, the joy in that?

Where does that leave room for the Universe/God/ Source to show up in more powerful ways than you could have ever imagined?

YOU DON’T GET EXTRA POINTS FOR SUFFERING. 

Yes, there will be struggles. 

Yes, with every dream there will be challenges - challenges that are shaping you into the ve