What a 16-year-old girl and fishing for marlins reminded me

Posted April 3rd, 2019

“Our house is on fire”, She said quite plainly. 

That was Greta Thunberg, a 16-year-old Swedish climate activist who spoke to hundreds of world leaders at Davos back in January of this year.

She then went on to say that now was the time for us to speak clearly, and that’s when she really let it rip:

“Adults keep saying ‘we owe it to the young people to give them hope.’ But I don’t want your hope. I don’t want you to be hopeful. I want you to panic. I want you to feel the fear I feel everyday. And then I want you to act. I want you to act as if you would in a crisis. I want you to act as if the house was on fire. Because it is.”
 

BOOM! Drop the mic, Sister.

Did you say shit like that to an audience of world leaders when you were 16? Me neither. But the reality is, we are now living in a time when our children are feeling the need to step up and get in our faces as adults—to call us out on our adult bullshit.

Our house IS on fire, Greta. This is true. Thank you.

This is exactly the same energy I was tapping into writing my second book, Witch Ways: You’re Not Crazy, You’re a Woman. I didn’t PLAN on tapping into that full-throttle, but it just….came out. My bone-marrow truth hacked up like a hairball. Which had me feel rather nervous, because shouldn’t I be a bit more diplomatic, careful, or measured in my words? It wasn’t until I heard Greta’s speech, that I got the full power of it in my bones.
 

Nah. Because our house IS on fire. Why mince words now?

My truth came in the form of marlins. I know, it surprised me, too, when a story flew out my pen one day about a woman on a tourist boat fishing for marlin. Did I mention that she was naked? And me? Not being an angler or remotely comfortable with public nudity, I never quite understood where that story came from, what it was about, or why it found me. Until I wrote the entire manuscript for this second book of mine and then found myself hacking it up like a hairball of truth that wanted to be center stage.

I talk about Greta’s words and her courage in this latest episode of An Unscripted Woman—and use this as a backdrop for talking about urgency and not waiting any longer to act. I also read the story about the naked marlin fishing woman that set my hair—the one that is now an author’s note at the very beginning of the manuscript that is now (happily) in the hands of my editors.

And here’s what else I talk about that might be of interest—especially if you’re feeling the urge to speak clearly, call bullshit on our excuses, and take action:
 

How the hell do you stay rooted and naked when the house is on fire?

Here’s what I’ve got on that that. Have at it, my friend. And join me in the fire.

P.S. Here are the links referenced in this episode:

In Her Words w/SheChanges
www.shechanges.com/experiences-for…ing-experience/ (please note: this experience is now full for 2019)

Witch Ways: You’re Not Crazy, You’re a Woman
www.gofundme.com/shechanges-book-…powered-by-women

Layla Saad
www.meandwhitesupremacybook.com/

Greta Thunberg at Davos
www.theguardian.com/science/video/2…-at-davos-video

What She Said

Posted March 12th, 2019

What if I were to call you a storyteller…how would you respond?

Would you agree or would you start Yea-Butting me?

Yea, but not a good one.
Yea, but it’s not like I’m a REAL storyteller.
Yea, but it’s not like I know what I’m doing.
Yea, but it’s not really about anything important.
Yea, but it’s not like anyone wants to hear what I have to say.
Yea, but it’s not like anyone asks me to do it.
Yea, but I’m just goofing around.
Yea, but I’m introverted.
 

YeaBut. YeaBut. YeaBut.

After working through this very conversation with nearly 70 women who have stepped onto the stage for SheSpeaks—a women’s storytelling evening I’ve run ten times now—I’ve heard a lot of YeaButs. I expect them. I normalize them. I actually have come to love them, and you know why?

When a woman says YeaBut to my invitation to SheSpeaks to share her story on stage, sure she faces her fear and her doubt and all those other hairy monsters we have within us as humans. But you know what else she does in that moment?  She touches her humility in that pause. She touches her humanity in that hesitation, and let me tell you, that is often the beginning of a beautiful story.
 

Stories with humble beginnings are some of the best ones in my book.

It is in that pause that she reckons with that question Marianne Williamson asks in her book A Return To Love:

“Who am I to be brilliant, talented, gorgeous, fabulous?” 

You know what comes next, right?

“Actually, who are you not to be?”

And Marianne goes on to remind us that showing up fully as ourselves is, in fact, a deep service to not only ourselves, but the world.
 

Your playing small does not serve the world….We are all meant to shine.

So put THAT in your YeaBut. I know I have over the years—many times. In fact, when I first left the cushy corporate world and started SheChanges I had a whole lotta YeaButs to contend with—the first being that up until that point, I had considered myself “one of the guys“. What the hell was I thinking starting a business working exclusively with women?

So you know what I did?

I painted that quote on the wall in my itty bitty home office that was the first roosting spot for my business.

(Side note: if you know me at all, when I really want to OWN something bold in myself, I either paint it on a wall or get a tattoo)

But back to being a storyteller. And being a woman.

What I’ve come to appreciate in the past fourteen years doing this work with women—and wrestling with my own hairy monsters—is this:
 

Storytelling is a feminine form of leadership.

A story transports—it has the power to take someone with you to another place.
A story paints a picture with words—it leaves images like breadcrumbs for others to find their way back to it.
A story enlists the senses—it asks our whole body (and heart and spirit) to experience it and not just the mind.
A story invites us to connect with ourselves and each other—offering solid ground to stand on in uncertain times.
A story offers a deeply personal perspective—allowing space for differences to emerge and resourcefulness to rise organically.

But you probably know all this, right? This isn’t new information. In fact, a case could be made for this being really OLD information—like ancient, in our bones information.

But if I were to ask you to speak with me on stage at this year’s at SheSpeaks…would you see yourself as that woman I see?
 

The Storyteller.

The one who could take up space on that stage—tomorrow if need be— and lead us forward simply by sharing what’s in her heart as only she can?

Or would you wait until you felt ready?

There’s no right or wrong answer here, and it’s not a trick question. It’s an honest one. An earnest one.

Because as I sit here in the heart of Women’s History Month, I am already eager to hear what you’d say, woman. Not just at SheSpeaks, but on our world stage.
 

Let’s storm the stage. YeaButs ‘n all.


Hungry for specific examples of how women create change with their stories? Every chapter of my next book, Witch Ways: You’re Not Crazy. You’re a Woman. begins and ends with a “She story” that might have you think someone has access to the thoughts inside your head, but rarely say out loud. If you want to read more about what’s coming in that book, where it came from and when it’s coming out, please check out my GoFundMe page for access to five sample chapters read by me via SoundCloud, and updates on where I am in the publishing process. I may be the birth-mother of this book, but you are its lifeblood, so this is indeed a book that is truly powered by women for women. Thank you for all of your enthusiastic support in helping me get this into your hands sooner than later! 

Feminine C4

Posted March 1st, 2019

“Please don’t let me blow shit up,” She said.

It was literally one of the first things she said to me when she came into my office that day—a stranger, who would soon become my client. I smiled at her as she plopped down on my couch that day, because I knew. And so did she, it seems, as her eyes met mine.

She was absolutely going to blow some shit up.

Because that’s often how it goes with me and my clients—we tried to hide our deepest desires in plain sight, hoping no one notices. And also hoping they do.

I don’t want everything to change at once.
I’m terrified you’re going to tell me to quit my job (or leave my marriage…)
I don’t want to freak them (or him, or me) out—they can’t handle that (read: me) now.
I know change takes time and is hard work, so need to be patient and smart about this.
I’m worried if I start, I won’t be able to stop.
I want to crack this shit wide open.
I want to take it all apart and see what’s there

All of this? It’s powerful energy for change. Hearing it lights me up like a Christmas tree. Feeling it, though, makes me shit my pants. Both of those reactions serve me well in my work, because fear and desire are constant and familiar traveling companions of mine. I know them well, and they know me.

But what are we told and taught about fear in our society? Be fearless! Fake it ‘til you make it! Don’t let them see you sweat! Get over it! Simply put, we are taught that our fear is not valuable or of service in creating change, and that the best course of action is to pretend it’s not there, ignore it, or push through it.

The tricky thing is: that doesn’t work.

All that does is ask us to lie to ourselves at a time when we are seeking to invest more deeply in our truth.

And what about desire? As women, we are told countless ways that this is something that lives almost exclusively in the realm of sex. Specifically, it’s relegated to how others perceive and experience us and our bodies—as in being desirable—which keep us looking for validation and affirmation outside ourselves.

Now you and I know both of these things are complete and utter bullshit.

So then the question that really lived at the heart of my client that day is not about resisting her urge to blow things up, but honoring it.


Want to read more? The above excerpt is right off the pages from the unedited manuscript of my upcoming second book: Witch Ways: You’re Not Crazy. You’re a Woman.  If you want to read more about what’s coming in that book, where it came from and when it’s coming out, please check out my GoFundMe page for access to five sample chapters read by me via SoundCloud, and updates on where I am in the publishing process. I may be the birth-mother of this book, but you are its lifeblood, so this is indeed a book that is truly powered by women for women. Thank you for all of your enthusiastic support in helping me get this into your hands sooner than later! 

Run, Lady, Run

Posted February 18th, 2019

“I feel like a feral cat pacing back and forth in a cage,” She said.
 
I looked at her and everything about her seemed like it wanted to be wild—her hair, the laugh that exploded out of her in a snort when she was caught off guard, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about taking the kids, getting a RV and hitting the open road.

Wild.

And yet contained by the confines of the life she had created with a great deal of intention to offer her kids the stable base she had never had for herself—emotionally, financially, and physically. She had wanted roots and now she had them. But somewhere along the way, those roots had overtaken her life, and now were feeling like kudzu, possessive and consuming, cutting off the light and air with its dense leaves and thick vines.

No wonder she felt caged in. No wonder she wanted to hack it all back and break free.  Her cat had gotten caught in a jungle of its own making.


It happened in the blink of an eye. One minute she was sitting there by her owner, idly panting and waiting for her walk, and the next minute she had shirked her collar and was looking around wildly, suddenly overcome with the opportunities of freedom.

To be honest, I had forgotten that Lady even existed. Sure, it was spring on our street and we’d all been house bound throughout the long, cold winter, but I’d been living next door to these people for nearly ten years now. How was it that I never saw this dog come outside? Seeing Lady emerge for her walk was like spotting a Yeti, it kind of made you do a double take as you recalled her name and the vague recollection of her being among the four footed residents of our street.

But that warm spring day, while her owner was talking to me about her latest transition to a new school district and our plans for the upcoming school vacation, Lady had somehow managed to slip out of her collar like Houdini. For a moment, she stood, frozen, looking up at the empty loop of leather swinging at the end of the leash from her owner’s hand. What I would have given to read her thought bubble.

And then? She bolted, as if jolted into motion by this great surge of electricity. While we watched, stunned, she zipped across our dead-end street and disappeared into the neighbor’s backyard. Moments later, she came flying up another driveway, tongue hanging out the side of her mouth, and her four little legs a blur of motion. As she dashed by me, I swear I saw the whites of her eyes wide with delight.

Free at last, free at last! Good lord almighty, Lady was free at last.

Her owner, finally recovering from her stupor, started chasing Lady all over the street— through the backyards, up the driveways, across front lawns, down other driveways, up the sidewalks, and between the cars. This woman, the owner, is a highly conditioned runner in her own right, but she was no match for Lady that day.

Lady was making the most of her moment of freedom, and she wasn’t about to be leashed.

When I think about this, isn’t that the way most of us respond when we encounter that sweet moment of freedom? When the collar slips off our neck, and the owner is otherwise engaged? Do we bolt and make the most of our freedom?

Or do we wait for permission—for it to be okay?

Because I will tell you right now, if Lady had waited for permission, it would have never come. And something wise in her doggie heart knew it. So she seized her moment and didn’t look back.

But it reminds me of that famous science experiment most of us learned about at some point in school—the one with the flies in the mayonnaise jar. As the story goes, apparently these flies were kept for weeks, if not months, in one of those jars with the holes poked in the lid. Rather than standing upright, though, the jar was laid on its side. During the first few days, then weeks, the flies would ping against the sides of the jar and the lid to try to escape, which was obviously futile. And then one day, the researcher would carefully unscrew the lid, leaving one end of the mayonnaise jar wide open. And the flies stayed in the jar.

They had been conditioned, you see, that it was futile to try to escape. They had banged their little fly heads against the lid one too many times, so somewhere along the way they stopped trying.

Even when the jar was wide open, and their freedom was in plain view, they assumed they were still trapped.
But Lady didn’t assume jack that day. She saw empty collar swinging, she saw the distracted owner, and she made her move.

Had she waited one moment longer, or asked for permission with her brown little beagle eyes, “Mother, may I?” the opportunity would have passed her by and the jar would have been firmly screwed back on the lid.

But that’s how fast it happens, that split second decision to stay put or make your move. There’s often no time to deliberate, weigh your options or make sure you’re ready. Much like Lady, many of us don’t even have a sense of where we’re going or where we’ll end up as a result. We just figure it out as we go, weaving and dodging among houses and shrubbery, hoping like hell we don’t get caught or hit by a car.

And sure you could say it’s a bit of a stretch to liken a neighborhood dog on a leash to a woman, say, in the corporate world, but maybe it’s not. Maybe you’ve gotten a taste of both the tight leash and the very freedom that Lady experienced that day.

Maybe you know that sometimes all it takes to duck out of leash is to let it slip off when nobody is looking. Maybe you know there isn’t a lid on the mayonnaise jar anymore—and that you could just turn around and fly straight out to freedom.

But here’s the question that keeps many of us leash-bound and jar-trapped:

What would you do with all that freedom? Or more to the point, who would you be with all that freedom?

If you didn’t have the excuse of being yanked around by someone else’s power, if you had to rely on someone else’s to allow you to come in or go out at their will, or if your muscles became atrophied or your wings became cramped from lack of use… would you have the courage to own your own freedom?

Lady did that day. I saw her. My clients do. I see them.

And like Lady did that day, as she made her mad dash across my lawn with her eyes bright and her little doggie grin on her face, my clients are never more alive than when they’ve taken the leap, made the bold decision, or pounced on the opportunity.

Like Lady, they weren’t expecting it, they weren’t ready, they didn’t have their plans fully mapped out, and didn’t know how it was all going to go down. They just saw their moment and they made their move before they lost their nerve. Or the lid when back on.


Intrigued? Want to read more? The above excerpt is right off the pages from the unedited manuscript of my upcoming second book: Witch Ways: You’re Not Crazy. You’re a Woman.  If you want to read more about what’s coming in that book, where it came from and when it’s coming out, please check out my GoFundMe page for more information, access to five sample chapters read by me via SoundCloud, and frequent updates on where I am in the publishing process. I may be the birth-mother of this book, but you are its lifeblood, so this is indeed a book that is truly powered by women for women. Thank you for all of your enthusiastic support in helping me get this into your hands sooner than later! 

The Almighty Point

Posted February 15th, 2019

“What’s the point of doing it if it’s not good?” She asked.

I hear that question so often from clients. Hell, I ask that question so often, myself. So I can appreciate first-hand, how every slight detour or deviation from our “normal” day to day operations are often met with an elaborate vetting system with plenty of checks and balances and hoops to jump through to even give ourselves permission to do it.

At which, point, we’re so thoroughly exhausted from the Roberts Rules of Order in our head, we’ve long-since checked out and given up and crawled deep under the pile of other words that take the fizz out of our ginger ale, like “pragmatic”, “productive”, “valuable”, “good enough”, “worth it”, or my personal favorite “prudent”.

These are all phrases designed to get us “back on track” (who’s track that is, exactly, can be a whole other conversation). Bottomline: we’re off it.

So on that day, when my client asked herself that question, we paused. Rather than barreling through with the assumption there was a point, we actually spent some time actually considering that question—from a place of curiosity, rather than judgment.

She had been trying to carve out some time in her busy life to feed her creativity, deciding that painting was something that she wanted to do more. Except she was noticing she wasn’t—doing it, that is.

It was clear she was hitting something—resistance, fear, overwhelm, or some concoction of all three. Can you relate?

What’s the point of making art if it’s not good?
What’s the point of writing if no one reads it?
What’s the point of making music if no one hears it?
What’s the point of gardening if you don’t grow anything?
What’s the point of fighting for change if there’s always someone who is going to disagree with you?
What’s the point of trying something new if you won’t eventually master it?
What’s the point of slowing down if you will have a pile of work waiting for you when you return?
What’ the point of fresh-cut flowers by your bed if they’ll eventually die and you won’t see them when you sleep?
What’s the point of romance and intimacy if you don’t have an orgasm?
What’s the point of sending a hand-written thank you note, if it’s faster just to send a text or an email? What’s the point of being in a band if you never perform or make money?
What’s the point of giving something if you don’t get credit for it?
What’s the point of having a business if you don’t grow it?
What’s the point of crying if it doesn’t change anything?

What IS the point?

Of beauty?
Of art?
Of pleasure?
Of dreaming?
Of giving?
Of receiving?
Of getting lost?
Of making connections?
Of feeling our emotions?
Of speaking our truth?

Do you see what I’m getting at? We’ve lost our way. Ironically, we’ve missed the point in our feverish attempts to stick the landing of it.

This is the voice we answer to in our society. This is what keeps us in our heads, keeps us up at night, keeps us from trying anything new, scary, or different. This is the voice that makes decisions for us, and this is the judge that we plead our cases before when it comes to desire, pleasure and joy.

And yet our hearts keep beating, and our desire, it just. Keeps. Rising. Wanting.

We’ve lost our way because of our love of the destination, forward progress, the outcome and the return of our investment.

We’ve lost our way because we’ve forgotten that lines aren’t the only form us humans can take. And that there are more crayons for us to color with other than black and white, and maybe a few shades of gray.

We can curve and bend. We can wax and wane. We can ebb and flow. We can rise and set. We can wander and not be lost. We can be present and moving. We can be still and active. We can bleed and not die. We can be silent and engaged.

Women know this all too well, as we are designed to move this way. Naturally.

We are designed to have curves.
We are designed to have cycles.
We are designed to be inconsistent.
We are designed to see webs of interconnectedness.
We are designed to create new life inside ourselves.

But we’ve forgotten that, just like my client did that day.

She wanted to know:

Where am I going with this?
Why does this matter?
How will this help anything?
How is this just not a waste of my time?
What if nothing changes as a result?
What if I suck and people laugh?
What if I’m good and I really am an artist?
What if I can’t stop?
What if I don’t ever want to stop?
What if it makes me cry?
Then what do I do?
What happens next?

Our poor, tired heads…they work so damn hard for us, don’t they?

But here’s the point, beautiful heads:

We’ve forgotten what rapture and presence feel like.

And that is critical to our humanity because it connects us to hope, each other, and this big beautiful blue-green planet we share.

We’ve forgotten how to live from our bodies.

And that is critical because so many of us are sick and tired and something’s gotta give at a time when many of us feel like we’ve got nothing left to offer.

What if it were the other way around?

What if we lived in a world where that values system were flipped, and the “point” didn’t really matter? What if we didn’t give away so much damn power to the “point”? What if the joy, happiness or fulfillment we were seeking, weren’t dependent on being seen, heard, bought or applauded?

What kind of a life would you be living then?

What would our world be like without so many points?

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Intrigued? Want to read more? The above excerpt is right off the pages from the unedited manuscript of my upcoming second book: Witch Ways: The Unspoken Ways Women Create Change. If you want to read more about what’s coming in that book, where it came from and when it’s coming out, please check out my GoFundMe page for more information, access to five sample chapters read by me via SoundCloud, and frequent updates on where I am in the publishing process. I may be the birth-mother of this book, but you are its lifeblood, so this is indeed a book that is truly powered by women for women. Thank you for all of your enthusiastic support in helping me get this into your hands sooner than later! 

Can I Really Want This?

Posted February 12th, 2019

There is a deep and keen noticing in this space, and it descends upon you like a mist that completely soaks your clothing without it raining—an awareness of something that saturates your consciousness in a manner of minutes.

This is the place were instincts wake up and want to govern, like a feral part of you that has followed a scent on the wind, and knows there is something good and right for you here. To look at. To eat.

This is the place where time slows and outside distractions hush, leaving only this question that slowly melts on the tongue like chocolate: Do you want this? Which, of course you do, reaching for it with your whole body before any words are said.

This is where desire takes root and begins to infiltrate your consciousness, occupying your thoughts, invading your dreams, and hijacking your attention every spare moment as longing starts to fill you up ridiculously fast like a return tide coming back in.

Which might have you quickly correcting yourself with phrases like “silly”, “crazy”, “delusional” or “totally unrealistic” to describe what has momentarily overtaken the more rational side of you like a body-snatcher.

But this, if you’re really observant, is where a decision is made. Something shifts inside you, and you’ll track it back to this moment much later. A pinky swear happens. A soul oath is taken. This is where something in us says a deep and resounding YES.

In our bodies, that is. Our minds? They’re not necessarily on board just yet, but are momentarily stunned into submission by the sheer power of desire flooding the senses.

Which means this is the moment we begin to set ourselves free— with permission to want what we want. A green light to go after what we’ve seen. Self-authorization to make it happen.

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Intrigued? Want to read more? The above excerpt is right off the pages from the unedited manuscript of my upcoming second book: Witch Ways: The Unspoken Ways Women Create Change. If you want to read more about what’s coming in that book, where it came from and when it’s coming out, please check out my GoFundMe page for more information, access to five sample chapters read by me via SoundCloud, and frequent updates on where I am in the publishing process. I may be the birth-mother of this book, but you are its lifeblood, so this is indeed a book that is truly powered by women for women. Thank you for all of your enthusiastic support in helping me get this into your hands sooner than later! 

The Other Way

Posted February 8th, 2019

When I was a little girl, I used to loll on my bed looking up at the ceiling when I was supposed to be getting up and getting ready for school. I used to wonder about things, looking up at that blank expanse of nothingness, untainted by nail holes, finger prints or scuff marks.

I used to imagine what it would be like if the whole house were to be upside-down, and we would walk on the ceilings, having to step up over a little bit of wall to cross over into another room, and how you could curl up around a skylight and be closer to the moon.

I thought of this the other day when client of mine shared that she had seen a picture of the most breathtakingly beautiful Christmas tree float across her Instagram feed. She described an evergreen tree that had been tipped upside down, exposing its vast intact root ball having it look like the roots were growing up toward the ceiling. Instead of decorating the boughs of the evergreen, the roots were decorated with lights and bejeweled ornaments and tinsel, all in gold and silver and red. She marveled at how something so beautiful could be hidden plain sight, until someone thought to turn everything upside down.

That what I feel like I’m doing in this book—bringing some light and attention to what is often not seen because it’s hidden, below ground. Not to suggest that the ceiling is better than the floor, or the root system contains something more interesting and valuable than the traditional evergreen boughs do—but to suggest that we might be only seeing half of the whole.

What I’m doing here is taking a stand for more of our conversations to hold space for the “and” to be considered. Because I don’t know about you, but I’m so damn weary of the either/or world we’re living in—that dualistic thinking thing that limits our vision and keeps us smaller than we are.

Root bound.

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Intrigued? Want to read more? The above story is an excerpt from the unedited manuscript of my upcoming second book: Witch Ways: The Unspoken Ways Women Create Change. If you want to read more about what’s coming in that book, where it came from and when it’s coming out, please check out my GoFundMe page for more information, access to five sample chapters read by me via SoundCloud, and frequent updates on where I am in the publishing process. I may be the birth-mother of this book, but you are its lifeblood, so this is indeed a book that is truly powered by women for women. Thank you for all of your enthusiastic support in helping me get this into your hands sooner than later! 

What Is Happening To Me?

Posted February 4th, 2019

Imagine you’re minding your own business walking down a crowded city street and suddenly you feel the ground vibrating beneath your feet. You stop, unsure of what you’ve just felt and ask a fellow pedestrian, “What was THAT!?”

Distracted, the person glances quickly over at you and says, “What was WHAT?” You dismiss it, thinking you must have imagined something, and then you feel it again…and again…and again. Until you can no longer deny that something is happening even though no one seems to notice and nothing is making sense.

That is the best way I can think to describe this sensation of when your roots start talking to you. This is how it feels when change wants to come your way. Far from a lightning bolt of inspiration (coming down from on high..), it often begins from something deep down in our bodies (coming from down low…), where they connect with the earth. It’s subtle, until it’s unmistakably there.

Which is why it’s so easy to miss…until it’s not.

This is the place where we feel the most…off (off track, off kilter, off our rocker, off script), and go inward to see if we can sort it all out and make sense of it in the cover of darkness. “Feel” is the operative word here—as it tends to start there, with an emotion bubbling up in our bodies, even before we can put words to it. And because no one else in your skin, and can’t see or sense or understand what you’re feeling, this is also the place where we feel most alone. This is where difficult and dark things find us, like vulnerability, shame, guilt and anger.

Conversely, this is also where we can start to feel most awake and inspired, like we’ve come out of a stupor and are starting to connect to something bigger than ourselves. Something that matters. Some of us start to utter phrases we’ve never used in our lives…like “soul whispers” and “in my bones” and “warrior’s path” or “deeply of service.” Even the most cynical non-believers among are amazed by how drawn they are to this conversation that’s coming up from inside them because it feels strangely…familiar and therefore magnetic.

It’s also where time starts ticking loudly in our ears, and there is this weird sensation of urgency that rises up to our consciousness…having us use phrases like “life is short” and “now is the time” and “just do it”. Which adds to the angst of the situation, because we’re still sitting in the fog wondering…time for what? Do what, exactly? Which can be maddening, but also oddly intriguing.

But here’s what I do know for sure: Our bodies never lie, and if we want to move closer to our truth, it begins by moving closer to our bodies.

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The above story is an excerpt from the unedited manuscript of my upcoming second book: Witch Ways: The Unspoken Ways Women Create Change. If you want to read more about what’s coming in that book, where it came from and when it’s coming out, please check out my GoFundMe page for more information, access to five sample chapters read by me via SoundCloud, and frequent updates on where I am in the publishing process. I may be the birth-mother of this book, but you are its lifeblood, so this is indeed a book that is truly powered by women for women. Thank you for all of your enthusiastic support in helping me get this into your hands sooner than later! 

The Pattern Of Questions

Posted January 29th, 2019

I don’t know what magic lives in a bathroom, but whenever I’m in the shower I start writing in my head and have my absolute best insights. And whenever I’m going throughout my day with my hair on fire, sometimes the only moment I get to stop — and be with my own thoughts — is when I stop to pee.

Maybe it’s something about water. Or maybe it’s the small, private space reminding me of being in the womb. But there it is. And in case you’re wondering I don’t have some weird fixation on all bathrooms — I assure you I won’t be spending time in yours if I don’t need to be—and I most definitely avoid them in public unless absolutely necessary. No, for me it’s about being in my bathrooms.

Ergo my problem of the ugly and cramped one at my office. It just wasn’t cutting it. So in one of my massive procrastination bouts when I found myself physically spent and damn near brain dead after the release of my first book, I was struck with an idea: I was going to turn that shitty little bathroom into a booth of inspiration! If my clients and I were going to be trapped in there a couple times a day, we were going to be surrounded by a bevvy of images and a plethora of quotes, making it a veritable boon of motivation.

Now if you think about a bathroom, there are two distinct pieces of prime real estate for women (not counting the mirror, because by then I’m all about washing my hands and getting out). The first is the back of the door, and the second is the space right above the toilet paper holder, right? You with me? Ski areas know this, and libraries are also onto this little secret. That’s where they know they’ve got a captive audience.

So naturally I thought long and hard about which of my selected quotes I would put in these two places. I felt a sense of responsibility. After thinking about it, I selected two of my favorites from the lot – the poem Now Works by Danielle LaPorte and The Good Life Project Living Creed (the original, not version 2.0) by Jonathan Fields. Danielle was above the toilet paper, and Jonathan was on the back of the door. And I swear every time I went in there, I felt like they were in there with me — not in a creepy way, but in an ear-whispering, soul connection, kindred spirit way; like I wasn’t alone or crazy in doing this work and saying yes to being on this path.

Danielle whispered insistently from above the toilet paper roll DO IT, Lael….don’t wait a moment longer. I know you’re scared and you can be riddled with doubt, but don’t you dare settle for less that what you know you want…be THAT brave…after all, isn’t that what life is about? Riding it hard and putting it away sweaty!? Whatever it is, Lael…do it NOW. Now WORKS!

Jonathan’s voice was relaxed and quiet, like we were two surfers hanging out together in the ocean sitting on our boards waiting for the next good wave to come along. His was the voice of the philosopher…or the stoner…saying Dude, do what makes you happy…we’re all making this shit up, you know? So if you don’t like what you’re being, tell yourself a different story, you know? Like, we can do that…it’s just a matter of giving ourselves permission and going for it, you know? There are no walls or chains holding us back, those are just in our minds…

I’m realizing as I’m writing these now, that these two are probably as close as I’ll ever come to have a board of directors or an advisory committee. Or even a mentor. I’m that unstructured and informal. Truth be told, I’m an artist. Roberts Rules of Order and Bi-laws will never be welcome in my bathroom.

One day I sat down and I saw this particular line on the Good Life Project Living Creed jump out at me. It read: Genius begins with a burning question, what’s yours? My first response was, “Just one?” It kicked up for me this this envy I have of many people I admire. I once saw a Brené Brown interview in which she had admitted she had never — not even once — watched the TED Talk that made her so famous. The one on vulnerability that went viral seemingly overnight. When asked how that could be, she responded that her decisions are governed by one guiding question, “Does it serve the work?” Apparently, after that massive explosion in popularity of her TED talk, she concluded that watching the video of herself telling that story did not, in fact, serve her work.

Gah! I wanted a governing question so badly in that moment. And now that I was staring at Jonathan Field’s gentle ask about what my burning question was, I was starting to feel like something was wrong with me….like I would never be able to be a gracious host to genius, like I was an unfocussed, unproductive lazy sack of shit who was forever destined to be a classic underachiever. All that is untrue, of course — but I couldn’t help but feel like I was doomed to forever wander aimlessly without something like one of those questions to anchor me. Did I even have a burning question? Why wasn’t I burning?

But if I’m to be really honest — and that’s what we’re doing here, right? — I don’t think I want a governing question to guide me. I don’t want to be burning. I don’t want a hard gaze on any one particular thing. I don’t want to doggedly pursue or ferret out answers to a pointed inquiry. In fact, the more I think about it, I don’t really have much energy around any of the traditional questions such as What, Why or How. Honestly? I kind of don’t want to know the answer to those. They just don’t give me juice.

How is it, then, that I’ve managed to design an entire business around my ability to be curious?

Because what does give me juice is noticing patterns in things — hearing, seeing or experiencing something and being able to recognize an arc that binds them together like a luminous thread. Pulling back from a multitude of data points and inputs and saying, Huh, have you ever noticed that this piece and that piece always seem to be present when that thing happens? It’s what my clients pay me to do every day with them — to help them see themselves in their lives as they’re living into a particularly bold stretch of their journey.

Apparently that’s what creatives do in the world. The performance artist, Amanda Palmer, totally nailed this realization for me when I was reading her book The Art of Asking. She said that the hallmark of artists is that we collect things, we connect things, and we share them with the world. Amanda talks about seeing a leaf as a young child and saying, have you ever noticed that the veins in a leaf look like the back of your hand? She says that sometimes the lights go on in their eyes which made the sharing worth it. And sometimes she’d get laughed at.

That. Is. Me. I think it’s why so many people refer to me as a storyteller — something that I had never set out to become, nor saw myself becoming.

While I don’t believe in having one governing question to guide my life, I can’t help but notice a clustering of questions that has emerged as I’ve been working with women one-on-one and in small groups and large communities over the years. Rather like the subtle rock pilings called cairns that mark trails above treeline or the faded blazes on trees or boulders along a pilgrimage, these questions have consistently appeared over and over to me throughout the years—enough so they form a pattern.

What’s happening to me?
Can I really want this?
What the hell am I doing?
Am I willing to make an ass of myself?
Can we be done yet?

Houston, we have a pattern. And an ancient one, at that. When you consider how a woman grows, births and nourishes another human life inside her body, these questions are often present for her. When you consider falling in love, these questions ring true. Something deep within each of us knows how to be guided by these questions—to see them as markers of movement— and yet…we have forgotten them in our relentless quest for “knowing”.

Inside these questions live our desires—the hopes, dreams, possibilities that inspire us to get out of bed every morning and believe in ourselves and each other, to believe in the power of love, the beauty of our world, and the gift of contributing to our conversation. These questions ask us to unearth and give voice to what lives inside our hearts, so that we might manifest it outwardly as an offering to our world.

Inside these questions live our humanity—the doubts, fears, and anxieties that bind us to each other as humans on this planet, reminding us that we are not alone and independent, but are all connected and therefore interdependent. These questions ask us to reckon with our discomfort so that we can rein in our unchecked egos.

Inside these questions live our humility—our insecurities, imperfections, and organic nature that remind us that we are animals and not machines, and as such are limited, inconsistent, and always changing. These questions ask us to live with the paradox of I’m not that special/important and I am special/I matter.

Inside these questions is a call to action and service—to assume responsibility for the life we have been given, and to get busy living it as an active, creative, resourceful and whole participant, and not a numbed, passive or entitled spectator. These questions ask us to be self-serving so that we may be of service to others.

These are the questions of a seeker, a sojourner, a pilgrim. These are also the questions of a misfit, a rebel, an artist. This is me, and these are the people who gravitate to me.

To be led by these questions requires a boatload of trust and a willingness to hold multiple truths. It also demands that we move in the face of the unknown, feel our way forward, and learn to navigate ambiguity, contradictions and messy terrain.

Notice I didn’t say it requires comfort, skill, patience, grace or a fancy degree? Nope. Those are myths I intend to debunk on these pages.

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The above story is an excerpt from the unedited manuscript of my upcoming second book: Witch Ways: The Unspoken Ways Women Create Change. If you want to read more about what’s coming in that book, where it came from and when it’s coming out, please check out my GoFundMe page for more information, access to five sample chapters read by me via SoundCloud, and frequent updates on where I am in the publishing process. I may be the birth-mother of this book, but you are its lifeblood, so this is indeed a book that is truly powered by women for women. Thank you for all of your enthusiastic support in helping me get this into your hands sooner than later! 

The Power Of Women’s Stories

Posted November 21st, 2018

There I was, just minding my business on the northern line of London’s underground on vacation with my family and BOOM—I see it. Validation of everything I had been working toward all these years.

As we pull up to the Euston platform, the doors open, revealing this massive, not-to-be-missed sign that simply read:

“When women tell their stories loudly and clearly, things change for the better.”

And then the doors shut and we were moving again. I swear if there had been white doves released or the sound of angels singing in the underground that day, it could not have seemed more like a sign. It literally WAS a sign. I turned to look at my husband next to me and said, “Did you SEE THAT!?” Not waiting for his response, I started frantically reaching into my pockets or my bag to dig out a pen. Before he knew what was happening, I had spun him around and was using the flat plane of his back to furiously scribble the quote on a page of my London Lonely Planet book.

Truth be told, I don’t think I could forget that moment if I tried. Inside that quote was validation of what has been steering me—sometimes pushing, sometimes pulling—all these years to bring SheSpeaks, my evenings of women’s storytelling, back to the stage year after year. Inside that quote was the answer to “So what’s SheSpeaks about, anyway?” And inside that quote was the energy of the crowds that poured into SheSpeaks evenings every year, their hunger to hear more and more and more women’s stories pumping through our blood as loudly as the music that greets people as they arrive each evening.

Women’s stories and their power to change our world seem like they are everywhere I look these days…literally.

Earlier that day in London with my family, we had stumbled on an exhibit by Jenny Holzer in the Tate Modern museum where she had literally papered the walls of one entire room with all the messages she has heard and collected over the years. She called them “truisms,” even though as you begin to read through them, it becomes very obvious that they are riddled with contradictions. Her exhibit poses one provocative question to those to find themselves surrounded by these “trusims”:

“How do you cope—within and without—when all these views are present, sometimes clamoring, sometimes fighting, sometimes murderous?”

Put another way, she’s touching upon the very things that I ask of women who take the SheSpeaks stage with me each year:

What do you see?
How do you feel?
What are you making of it? 
And where are you in all of that? 

And then I hear #METOO. I thought I was the only one who thought (said, felt, experienced…) that, and it’s so good know I’m not alone. And it’s not just women saying these things after the events, but men as well.

So many of us think we’re alone, don’t we? Maybe that’s the power of women’s stories—they connect us to ourselves and each other, and they have us rise individually and collectively as a result.

But women’s stories are everywhere, sometimes spoken, sometimes written, sometimes expressed as art, and sometimes seen on the walls of the underground. But what gives me hope is that they are taking center stage more and more.

When I came home from that London trip and I began to work with each of the ten speakers for this year’s SheSpeaks, I happened to stumble upon the Netflix special Nannette with Hannah Gadsby, and there it was once again… that validation…that sensation in my bones that telling our stories as women is some of the most important work of our times.

I can’t begin to do justice to the impact her show had on me because I’m still trying to find my words to describe how powerful it felt to me. So I’ll offer you some of Hannah’s words instead:

“Laughter is not our medicine. Stories hold our cure. Laughter is just our honey that sweetens our bitter medicine. I don’t want to unite you with laugher or anger. I just want my story heard and felt by individuals with minds of their own. Because like it or not, your story is my story and my story is your story.” 

This is why I do SheSpeaks each year. Because I see stories as some of our most powerful medicine in these times. All stories have value, but too often we only hear a select few repeated in a loop, and after a while those stories start to morph into facts…and then systems and cultures. But like the best medicines, the best stories are the ones that are still alive—and being lived.

Women’s lived experiences. That’s what takes center stage at SheSpeaks each year. You can’t rehearse that shit. You can’t fake it or make it up. Sometimes it’ll make you cry, and sometimes it’ll make you roar with laughter, but the stories each night are told from the heart and caught by an amazing sold-out audience year after year.

Photo credit: Ginger Soul PhotographySheSpeaks is like my sign on the underground wall. Each year, a loaded car full of people comes barreling down the tracks headed for somewhere. They pull up to the platform, the doors open, and stories flood into the bones of the people on the train. And then, just like that, the doors shut, and we’re moving again.

But you have to be there to see the sign. It’s not recorded, you won’t find them on YouTube, and you’ll only see still pictures of it that won’t nearly capture the magic. So now would be a great time to ask yourself: Do I want to be on that train December 6th or 7th (or both)?

If that answer is yes, you might want to pick up your ticket to ride at One Longfellow Square very soon—those cars on the underground are already getting full fas. And when it’s sold out, the doors of these two trains will close and they’ll head out of the station until it comes around again next year.

 

Thursday, Dec 6th will feature these storytellers:

Anne Morin
Louisa Irele
Corinne Mockler
Lyn Carter
Nadine Farag

Friday, December 7th will feature these storytellers:

Ashley Dobbs
Rosa Slack
Molly Neuner
Robin Hodgskin
Virginia Dearani