Your Courageous Life

Short Interview with Danielle LaPorte from Kate Swoboda on Vimeo.

Danielle and I did our first interview a few months ago, when she was just launching the Fire Starter Sessions (which I totally recommend). She said something during that interview that I loved: “Truth never attacks.” I wrote it down on a post-it note afterwards that is still on my computer. As I continued to follow her work, I found myself resonating most deeply with anything that had a sacred, or spiritual nature, in her writing. I like it when people talk about spirit in a way that doesn’t make me cringe–because like most of us–I want to be more connected, not disconnected.

So I contacted Danielle about doing an interview for The Courageous Year on the topic of Luck, Synchronicity and Magical Thinking, which is covered as part of Level 3 of the Courageous Year (available in September, when Level 1 launches). I love the fact that in interviewing people I admire, I get to learn a bit about them…and even get some insight into some things that I myself struggle with. So enjoy the wisdom she shares here, or check out the Fire Starter Sessions to get deep into the work that speaks to your heart.

I’m sinking into a space of deep listening, these days. I’m noticing this: the world does not always lend itself well to listening. Often enough, I have been part of the go-do-make-go-go-go cycle, and when I step out of it and get quiet, I find it jarring to have to make decisions or respond quickly. I taught a class this week and could feel in my body how being on a time schedule, needing to get through XYZ concept in order to make sure that we are on schedule for the semester, was all wrong. My energy felt scattered. Everything in me wanted to just…slow…down… and of course I can make that choice, and I did, though I noticed that I haven’t yet found that intersection between slowing down and reacting quickly enough to mange a classroom. I felt acutely that I wasn’t focused enough to really clearly communicate what I wanted to communicate to the class.

I am in an odd, yet beautiful flow (and I notice that it seems like a lot of other people are, as well. Are you noticing this, too?). For me, it is a flow of surrender and since my tendency is towards action, I am less practiced in surrender, so there is an awkwardness to it. “Your life speaks to you. You have to learn to listen” (Iyanla VanZant). And I keep listening, and listening, and I notice that an old impulse comes to me, to do this or try this or think about that. Following that impulse is a bad habit. I added some psych classes to my load this week, hoping to work on some prerequisites that I would need if I applied for an MFT program, again with this idea that I would not make any concrete decisions but would instead cast my net wide…and then I had a splitting headache. The headache lasted for two days and I noticed that every time I thought of these classes, it intensified. I dropped the classes and felt like I could breathe again; the headache went away.

“Your life speaks to you. You have to learn to listen.”

My life is saying: just listen. Don’t make a move.

My life is saying: your body tells the truth, every time. (I also love this quote by Anais Nin: “When one is pretending, the entire body revolts.”)

My life is saying: however you choose to ‘do’ what comes next, do it in your own way.

I was out with a friend last week and we walked past a spiritual shop and on impulse, I had a candle dressed. We went with clarity, release of attachment, and from there I cleaned off my entire art table, packed away all the supplies, and set up my spiritual altar on that table. I wanted  a place for that. I did a sage smudge in the house, added a white cloth, symbolic rocks, earth elements–wood, and especially water–my Virgin of Guadeloupe candle (several years ago, while receiving my first Reiki transmission, I saw a vision of the Virgin of Guadeloupe. No lie.)–this new candle that had been dressed, thank you cards, pictures of the ancestors I wanted to honor, a small Buddha statue.

My life is saying: spirit spirit spirit, get quiet quiet quiet, listen listen listen.

Yup. I totally get how nutty that sounds. But it is my truth in this moment. In the car, I feel myself listening. In my house, I feel myself listening. As I write, I feel myself listening. The listening is somewhere beyond ears and is more of a sensory or felt experience. I have no idea of what I’m listening for and frankly, no attachment. It is the strangest thing to recognize that I am in the midst of surrender. I have always planned out my life. I have always declared what I wanted to do and who I would be and taken action.

Now the only action I crave is that of listening, being quiet with myself. What I describe here is not sadness or isolation so much as it is cocooning myself a bit while something else is trying to get itself born.

Where in your life do you crave stillness?

So. Last week, a department chair from one of the colleges where I used to teach left a message and asked if I’d take on some classes that she needed filled. If I took them on, I’d be teaching part-time, a few afternoons a week.

I thought about this for about an hour before I called her back, wanting to be sure of what my answer was.

I believe that the most important thing when we make choices is that we are “behind” them. That we claim them fully. It’s not the choice itself to stay or leave a relationship, take or not take a job, do or don’t do XYZ, that is problematic, so much as it is the fear and suffering that is so often attached (by us!), thinking that making a certain choice means peril. When I’m in my happy place–feeling strong–not getting attached to outcome–trusting–connected to myself–I’m completely aware that there are no mistakes, and that every choice has its significance in the overall framework of our lives. The things that seem like wrong turns later are opportunities for growth, for seeing the “gold” in our lives–that is, if we choose that for ourselves. I can’t say I have a single regret about my life.

But from a triggered place–a fearful place–a place where I’m disconnected from me…and we all have those places…I can get very attached to this idea that there is a “right” decision for me to  be making, and that if I don’t choose wisely, all is lost.

Iyanla VanZant says in her book Yesterday, I Cried, “Your life speaks to you. You have to learn to listen.” So if I back up a bit, to a few weeks ago, then I’d share a bit about some things going on in my life, things that have been tender; things that I’ve held close and with care; things that I knew it wasn’t quite time to share with the larger world because I knew that I was reacting, not listening. (P.S. This is a handy tool to put into your metaphorical toolbox: When you notice that you’re reacting, rather than listening, it’s not time to make a decision).

Thing #1: Andy and I, talking about what commitment looks like. We’ve been together a few years. What does it look like for us to commit on a deeper level? Are we a lifelong relationship, or a relationship that has served its purpose to grow us into where we are today, and now it’s time to evaluate and possibly move on?

Thing #2: Money. I’ve been basically supporting myself since working for myself, but then bits and pieces were creeping up, which meant the credit card bill was creeping up. I am okay with this. I was aware when I started working for myself that most people would need to do the “credit card juggle” for at least the first year of business, and have considered myself doing quite well in that I’m not juggling; I’ve just got one, and I’ve never used it to pay rent. Yet I was also sweating a bit from the lack of benefits; I had food poisoning and had to go to the emergency room in March, and in May a piece of a filling in my mouth came out, requiring an unplanned trip to the dentist’s office to get filled. The reality of that, much as I don’t like it, is that those charges go onto the credit card.

Thing #3: Feeling a pull to actually dive all the way in and get my license to become a therapist. This process would not be like, oh, just going back to school for a bit, doing homework, writing an essay. To get your MFT (Marriage and Family Therapy License) requires anywhere from 2-3 years of schooling plus 3,000 hours of internship work (probably unpaid) and then sitting for a series of licensing exams. The MSW (Master of Social Work) is a similar process but with less funky licensing, and it’s another option I’m considering–both with the aim of being a therapist.

Thing #4: Andy and I have been talking about moving to the Boulder, Colorado area. Not only was talking about an inter-state move bringing all of these commitment conversations to a head, but this was also throwing a wrench in the decision process for going back to school. California has different licensing requirements for the MFT than other states. If I started school here in California, I’d likely need to finish here (then again, the other half of me thinks, I could probably just complete the school requirements in one place and the licensing requirements in the state I planned to practice in). I’d need to be prepared for a certain amount of headache if we ever did move to another state, because other states are (understandably) a little skeptical of California’s separate licensing process.

Thing #5: Do I even want to go down that path of becoming a therapist? I really enjoy working with people in a Coaching capacity, and would like to deepen that experience–not to mention step away from the term “Life Coach,” a term that doesn’t really conjure up a positive image for me and that–I’m betting–will eventually require regulation at some point because too many “Become certified to be a life coach in 16 hours over the weekend!” classes are cropping up, or worse, people who dive into this with no training at all, and I imagine that the Board of Behavior Sciences, the regulatory entity for mental health professions, probably isn’t going to let that fly forever. Someone, somewhere, is going to do something screwed up under the guise of being a Life Coach, and then, you know–bring on the inquest and the task forces.

When I consider the benefits of more education (which, I always used to tell my English students, is the best investment one can make–what else can you get in life that will never, ever go away?), it seems absolutely worth it to get formally licensed. However,I have no interest in working with diagnoses; I would still want to work with the same demographic of people that I’m currently working with (women who want to get more connected to themselves, and their lives, and fully claim their choices ).

But… Would getting my MFT be valuable in terms of education and experience, but ultimately would I then be at Square One again a few years from now, building up a client base? Would it be wiser to instead invest time now into continuing to build what I have?

Thing #6: Maybe I just don’t want to do anything. Maybe I just want to write books, and travel to Italy, and learn Italian, and not have a single other thing on my plate.

So.

When my former department chair called up and offered me these classes, I said yes. And this past Monday, I stepped into the classroom again, after thinking that I would not be back.

I did it because my life is speaking, and I’m trying to listen. My life seems to be saying to me right now, There are lots of decisions on your plate. What creates both stability during times of change, as well as the most possible flexibility, as you’re considering all options?

Teaching part-time, as far as I could tell, would do that. If Andy and I decided to part ways because we have different ideas about the commitment we want in our lives, I’d no longer have a financial backup plan. (In this moment, I am glad to share that we are “all in.” And I’m also glad to share that I risked asking really. hard. questions. during a tough time in our relationship.) If we decide to move to Boulder, I’ll certainly want some savings for that. If I decide to pursue my MFT, teaching would give me steady income while in school, and the schedule works well with the MFT. If I decide that I just don’t want to do a friggin thing, again, teaching part-time helps to make that happen, since I can take summers off and chill in Italy. Amidst all of this, I can still see my current clients and work on more e-books.

But then came the inner critic voices. I had to ask: Was I failing? Since I didn’t walk out into the world of working for myself and make major bank, was this some kind of…sign?

And then it comes back to being willing to claim my choices, and have acceptance of what-is. And, above all else, to trust. Trust that my business, like a newborn child, is growing and changing and moving at exactly the pace that is perfect for it. Trust that whatever choices I’m making, I’ll learn from them. Trust that with the information I have at any given time, I’m really doing a great job and rocking out.

(And, if I’m completely honest? It’s not sexy, but it’s kind of…fun to be in a classroom again. I’m assigning Confessions of an Economic Hit Man and Nickel and Dimed, to satisfy my “Social Justice” funny bone).

So I must ask: What is your life saying to you, these days? Are you listening?

When it comes to manifesting, the “law of attraction,” or anything else, I just don’t know.

I fall somewhere in a dogged and complicated middle of those things, somewhere where I don’t necessarily need proof of the existence of anything scientific, because I believe what I believe and know that what I do believe has no scientific “proof.” I do believe in some kind of higher power, some kind of Universe, some kind of something that is bigger than all of us. Would I call it god? Sure, okay–why not? But would I call this “Something” a Christian god? Islamic god? Jewish god? The god-dess? No. Do I believe that this “god concept/Something” looks down on all of us and judges our behavior? Nah. (I mean, talk about “creating god in one’s own image–a god that is so petty as to judge and condemn, a god that cannot rise above all meanness? I’m not on board with that).

Also, I give myself an open permission to change and shift around the issue of a higher power or energy or manifesting or any of that, as life brings me more experiences for evaluation.

Also, I completely support anyone participating in any kind of organized religion or spiritual practice, or not participating. I support a policy of going with what resonates with you, and figure that if it’s not a comfortable experience for me to be negatively judged for my own beliefs, then it’s probably not a comfortable experience for anyone else if I were to judge them. 

But the point is that I do believe in some interwoven and connected and very complicated concept of “Something” out there. I explain the background of my beliefs as preliminary arguments for me to explain why I do support the concept of manifesting, even as I cannot explain begin to explain how it works (yup, I’ve heard the quantum physics theory. It’s plausible–as are a number of other scientists who debunk the theory. We are a society who still can’t decide if bread is good for us, who constantly changes our mind about things based on new and emerging research–so who is to say who is right?)

I believe a few things. I believe that I manifested my current partner. I believe that a few months of heavy-duty visualization, affirmations, and other assorted practices did in fact somehow, in some way that I cannot explain, draw us to one another. The series of events upon which I base this could be seen by skeptics as total bunk. I’m okay with that because I believe that the true test of one’s convictions is how comfortable they are with someone else disagreeing with them. But here they are–I began doing these manifesting exercises such as visualizing myself with a partner, affirming that I was ready for a partner, making up a calendar in which I programmed in open space each day of the week as a sort of declaration to the universe at large that I was available to spend time with someone. In the weeks before I met Andy, I had a series of dreams in which ex-boyfriends, boyfriends from years and years ago, came to me and asked me to take them back. To each one, I said “no.” Then, after Andy and I had had our first phone call and set up our first date (we met via a local online dating site that now no longer exists), we actually saw one another at the grocery store before our first date. We ambled up and down aisles, kind of scoping one another out while we grocery shopped but neither of us approaching one another for fear of the embarrassment that could come: (“Excuse me, but, are you the person I’ve been talking to from that online dating site? Oh, you’re not? Oh. Okay. Great. Sure. Bye.“) Throughout my entire life, I have had crushes on an inordinate number of Andrews (to the point where I once remarked to a friend, “I’m always crushing on Andrews.”) Andy has dated two other Kates. 

Irrefutable proof? Of course not. Yet I believe sincerely that because I was putting myself out there as someone desiring a partner with precisely the specifications that my quite handsome, patient, and altogether wonderful man (did I mention that he is Italian???) came with, I also believe that I created that experience.

On a purely practical level, it can be said that I created the experience of this relationship because I wasn’t willing to settle for the other dudes who came my way. Like the charming guy at the post office who seemed to sizzle with chemistry but then later revealed that he did “a little recreational cocaine”? Yeah. I dropped that. I didn’t stick around to see if I could change him. I was clear on my deal-breakers from the start. Cocaine use? DEAL-BREAKER. (And can I just say that the choice was totally validated weeks later, when he called me out of the blue and told me that we were like two orbs of light vibrating with beautiful intensity, etc., etc.?)

The same thing goes for the commitment-phobe in college who tried to convince me that wanting monogamy was a symptom of control issues. The sex was pretty hot, and I was admittedly lonely, and we did have a pretty good time the rest of the time–but at the end of the day, even when I was hardly asking him to put a ring on my finger, there was something about the idea of a relationship that just didn’t sit right with him, even though he tried to go along with it as best he could. So we broke up. That one was hard, for me. Was it the “law of attraction” that made us a mis-match? Nah. I don’t think so. Was I creating the life I wanted by letting go of that relationship in order to remain open to something new? Totally.

I have had any number of strange and amazing experiences with money, as well. Experiences like jobs I needed that fit my schedule perfectly coming through at the exact last possible second, and everything happening in such a way that had it happened even slightly differently, I would not have received the call I needed to receive, things like that, and thus would not have had the job. Experiences like old employers hunting me down even without forwarding addresses in order to find me and get back-pay to me. 

It seems to me that whether one calls it the “law of attraction” or simply “I create a good life through making choices that are a match for what I want,” there are certain commonalities that are needed: First, one must be open to anything and not have a belief that something won’t happen. Second, one must start putting action forward to make things happen. Third, one must believe they’re worthy of receiving something. Fourth, one must believe that it’s going to happen even in the midst of seeming obstacles (for instance, had you asked me if I’d find a great life partner when I was dating Commitment Phobic Man, I’d have said no. But of course, I did need to date that guy, learn what I needed to learn from that relationship, and then move on to my next in order to have the wisdom that would prepare me for future relationships. Had I decided based on Commitment Phobic Man that there were “no good men left,” how would that have served me?).

One question I like to ask myself from time to time when I am feeling particularly resistant to stepping into integrity/my vision for myself, is this one: Am I willing to live as though manifesting is true?

If I am presented with any challenge in life, asking that question places me squarely in a place of accepting responsibility for whatever I have created in my life. If I am presented with any challenge in life, that question places me absolutely in a place of being the one responsible for changing its circumstances. Since the principles behind manifesting are based on things like thinking positively, I am willing to step into a space of choosing positively and believing, even without proof, because my alternatives (negative thinking? feeling hopeless?) don’t feel powerful. 

For a long time, I was in a place where I thought that I really needed that proof. Now, I don’t think I do. I’m willing to let life shape me, to trust my instincts and what resonates with me on a feeling level rather than a proof level. 

Without starting a religious debate here, or even a “does god exist?” debate–let’s skip those issues altogether–I’m curious to know: Do you believe in manifesting, the “law of attraction,” or something else? What amazing things have you either manifested or created based on choices, in your life?

Poppy

This past week would have already been one of exhilaration–finishing up the entries for The Courageous Year, tweaking the backend, processing last minute registrations, the whole bit. It has been so exciting and great and the days have been passing SO FAST. Like, each day I wake up and think, “Great. I have this whole day ahead of me to get so much done. Let’s get to it!”

Then the day is gone and I’m going, “Wait…where did it go?”

Then I got an email on Thursday that made time seem to pass achingly slow.

When we were house-sitting this past summer and into the fall, I fell head over heels in love with a kitty that was not mine. I cannot recall having this kind of attachment to an animal. I would feel a little thrill of happiness when my key hit the door, each time I came home. I’d head over to her right after putting down my bag. I found pretty much every single thing she did to be utterly adorable, whether it was the little pissy grunts she’d give when she wanted more food and I wouldn’t give it to her (they’re like a little “puff” of a meow, a kitty grunt), to the way she’d sometimes lay on her back, to the way she tried to fit herself into this box:

The owner brought up the possibility of us adopting Poppy because she and her husband want to do more traveling and didn’t want to get house-sitters every time. But right before we were finalizing that possibility, the owner realized that she wasn’t ready to give Poppy up. She’d had Poppy since kittenhood and wanted to see her to the end. This was really, really hard news for me to hear but I understood it–Poppy is this wonderful, wonderful kitty. I adore her. I can only imagine that if I’d owned her for eleven or twelve years, I’d adore her even more!

We tried adopting another cat, and that did not work out.  I knew that I wanted a pet because I had valued that experience of being attached to Poppy so very much, yet after the stress of caring for Buddha, I felt really hesitant. Besides, I just still missed my widdle Poppers. During the whole first week after we had moved out of the house-sit, I started crying when I would talk about her with Andy.

And yes, this felt a little nuts and vaguely pathetic. I mean…it’s a cat.

Right?

So we were taking things slow and talking adoption but wanting to make sure that we got a cat who had been fostered so that we’d be familiar with its behavior beforehand, and we’d put a few adoption applications out there to see if there were any matches.

Then the owner emailed me on Thursday. If we were still interested, we could adopt Poppy!

I think I screamed. Then I cried. Then I called Andy and screamed and cried into his voicemail. And thus commenced with the very sloooooooow passage of time, where it was very very very hard for me to be in the “now” when Sunday at 2:30 PM was looming and I’d be able to adopt Poppy again.

As I type this, she is sleeping on the coaching chair in my office. Despite the stress of the change in housing, her personality is exactly the same. She likes to be petted in all of the same places and she is just as adorable. She hides under the bed to get a bit of privacy and then comes out every few hours to be social, then I guess decides that she needs a bit more space and goes back to hide under the bed.

I cannot tell you how oddly, wonderfully “complete” this house feels with Poppy here.

She was absolutely, completely and totally worth waiting for.

Who are your pets? What are they like? Anyone else “get” this animal connection thing?

If you really knew me, you’d know that birthdays have historically been kind of sensitive for me. It’s my own fault in many ways–at this point in time, I don’t yet clearly see the way of “choosing out” of the belief system that they are a measuring stick of how much people love me. The measuring stick works like this: First of all, will the people I love remember? Second of all, will they come if I have a birthday get-together, or will something else be more important? And if something else is more important to them, what does that say about our relationship?

Awhile back, I had a few birthdays in a row where friends who had conflict with me used my birthday as a way to express that they were upset, in the form of not being available to get together. Years later and in hindsight, I recognize the dynamics that were at work and see how all parties played a part, and I accept responsibility for my part in creating and perpetuating conflict, and in not cleaning it up.

And, nonetheless, each year since that conflict happened, I notice that I feel a little sad about my birthday. I’ve done any amount of work with my coach around cleaning that up, letting go, etc., and yet it still lingers. So, okay, I’m going to give it more time, trusting that there’s still some gold in there (while simultaneously fully admitting the hurt feelings that can come up around that–it’s such a balance for me when I write here, conveying both how I am truly committed to a vision of owning my life fully and not being a victim, while also acknowledging the parts that are sticky, stuck, difficult or painful).

I do notice, however, that this year things are feeling just a bit different–and I owe that in large part to Andy, who has been World’s Sexiest Boyfriend this past week. It’s basically been “birthweek” around here, not “birthday.” The bed is made. The toilet paper rolls are replaced (and more toilet paper is purchased before I have a chance to put it on my to-do list). What would I like for dinner? Oh no, honey, I’ll load the dishes in the dishwasher. This morning he bought me my morning latte. This is all in addition to his usual, everyday availability for snuggling and random displays of affection (he’s really good at those).

Trust me, I’ve been having fun with this, appreciating it, acknowledging him for it and being full o’ gratitude.

But the thing that takes the cake is this–he planned a special weekend getaway for us. And I have no idea where it is or what we’re doing. All I know is that I’m supposed to pack a bag. And I think I’ve sneakily managed to get him to admit that it does not involve planes, but is a short car ride away. But I’m not sure. 

I’m totally thrilled on one hand, and on the other, I can’t help but have this little niggling worry: Uh, wait. What if I don’t like it? Like what if he’s planning to take us to a romantic…couples workshop? Which I would totally be up for, just not on my birthday, you know? The only clue he’s given me is that it’s warm (that’s a good thing). And I’ve made him promise and swear that it’s not expensive.

See, this is where I expose myself fully–the CONTROL synapses are going, “Danger! Danger Will Robinson!” 

You are officially witnessing this life coach’s “edge” with the comfort zone.

If it’s something I wouldn’t be into, how will I control my face from twitching and revealing that after his hard work and planning and the sweetness of the surprise, it’s not something I’m into? How to avoid NOT feeling like “the selfish a-hole” because what I “Should” be caring about is the thought, more than anything else.

CONTROL CONTROL CONTROL, DANGER, WILL ROBINSON–the control freak synapses don’t want me to focus on the gratitude. They want to know what’s going to happen next, at all times. They want to be on the lookout on my birthday to forestall any possibility of a disappointment, so that they can CONTROL CONTROL CONTROL a resurgence or retriggering of the pain of past birthdays. 

Isn’t it amazing what we humans will resort to, to avoid pain? 

He has almost given in to my pestering several times to tell him what he’s up to. And at the end of it all, he pulls back and doesn’t tell. It’s better that way; I know this deep down.

So by the time this entry posts, I’ll be who knows where, and triggered by who knows what (if anything, at all).

AND I’ll also be with my best friend, the person I adore the most, who makes me laugh on a daily basis, who triggers the crap out of me (and I return the favor), who doesn’t give up on me (and I return that favor, too).

He’s the guy who both replaces the toilet paper roll and takes me out for a surprise birthday weekend. When I am able to push aside the CONTROL switch, I could cry with the awareness that I would not want anything more.

When I was doing Mondo Beyondo this past fall, several people put that they would like to meet Oprah on their lists. I totally get it. I love, love, love Oprah. While sick these past few days, I have been re-watching her 20th Anniversary DVD Collection. I love her spirit, her authenticity. It surprises me completely that there are people who dislike her (or even vilify her) because to me she seems so very utterly herself, someone who lives in a multi-dimensional way, someone who is humble about her limits and someone who is also unafraid to express pride about what she has accomplished. At alternate turns while re-watching the collection, I laughed and cried and then laughed and cried again.

And you know what gets me? The moment when she walks out at the beginning of a show and everyone is cheering. Something about that moment can get me all choked up and emotional.

Then I realized that I don’t think I’ve ever told the blogosphere that I have been in Oprah’s physical presence–though we didn’t, technically, “meet.”

It went down like this–I was briefly visiting Chicago after I’d moved to California, and a friend of mine who worked for Harpo had made plans with me to have dinner. She was overseeing a project, and then the project ran over and she realized that she would need to stay on-site to oversee the project. She suggested that instead of going out for dinner, we grab takeout and eat at Harpo so that she could be on-hand in case someone needed her.

I agreed, went and got checked in through security, and it was about 8:00 at night and we were just in the cafeteria, eating our dinner while sitting across the table from one another, when quite suddenly, there was Oprah. Right there. Beside me. Bent down a little bit to look us in the eye.

“Something smells delicious, girls,” she said, warmly.

I wish that I could say that I was cooler than this, but I basically sort of froze up and nodded and managed to say something like, “Oh, it is [good],” and then she left us to our dinner and shuffled over to the microwaves to heat something up. She was wearing her house-slippers with a nice pair of tailored pants and a good sweater. I was afraid to look over while she was heating up her meal, and the conversation that I’d been sharing with my friend was down to some awkward murmurings. My friend had of course met Oprah a few times, but had said that she still found it a little awkward to talk to her, a sentiment I could completely understand in that moment (all the while, some part of me really desperately wanted to say something charming so that Oprah would want to be my new friend).

That’s really it; that’s my Oprah moment. Short and sweet. But still, it seems to me that even in that moment I could sense a genuineness about her. For instance, even though she’s OPRAH, she made an effort to chat briefly with the people who were in the cafeteria, rather than ignoring us. And even though she’s OPRAH, she was heating her own food rather than sending someone else to do it. And even though she’s OPRAH and has more money than god and could just sit back and probably hire out every single thing, she was at work at 8:00 at night, being involved. My friend was staying late at work? Guess what–Oprah was, too.

As I was watching the DVDs again, however, I realized that I think I do have some Mondo Beyondo, “Wildest Dreams” kinds of things–like a Wildest Dream would be to be able to work on the show for a week, help out with stage production, etc. Just to be in that energy for a week would be so cool. I also think it would be the neatest thing ever to go to South Africa as a volunteer if they ever did the Christmas Kindness project again.

The Christmas Kindness project, in case you hadn’t heard of it, happened a few years ago when she went to South Africa and held parties and gave gifts to impoverished children. Skeptics might turn their noses up at this–”What does she think she’s doing, giving a party to kids like this? That’s not what they need! They need…” –but if those skeptics actually watched the entire show, they’d see that the kids got a party…and clothes, and a month’s worth of food, and medical attention, and access to school. And the show exposed the South African government’s lack of response to getting anti-retrovirals for HIV/AIDS patients, and highlighted the work of charitable organizations that are already deeply involved in getting to the heart of the problems that the country faces. Oprah couldn’t possibly solve the HIV/AIDS crisis, but she did something huge nonetheless–giving thousands of children much-needed clothing and food (and yes, gifts and an opportunity to play!) and then turning this in to an opportunity to bring the message home to viewers in the United States.

I watch that episode and feel such sheer gratitude for all that I have in my life, and I am reminded again of the gifts of gratitude–how it transforms everything. I love the saying, “The only prayer you’ll ever need is ‘thank you.’ ”

I’m really thankful that she is in the world. I’m so thankful for all that she is doing to promote worthy causes, while not keeping everything SO SERIOUS that we can’t throw in a show on bras or weight-loss now and again (balance, balance, balance–I think she gets this about the world). 

For her sense of fun, her ability to laugh at herself, her compassion, her authenticity, and the way that she lives life 100% fully alive, I am so grateful.

P.S. A Five-person giveaway will be happening starting Monday at 6:00am Pacific over at Your Courageous Life!

Ready for something new: new blog, new coaching site, new e-course

I don’t even know how to start this entry. For reals. I’m sort of laughing at myself because I feel almost…I dunno, shy to explain all that I’ve been up to the past few weeks. Like I’m going to show you some part of myself that is really hopeful, and that likes being so hopeful and wants to hold that for just a little bit longer before I open it up and put it out there–the possibility that in fact, you’ll think it’s ridiculous. Or that you’ll love it and yet it still just won’t work. All of those Gremlin fears rise to the surface at these moments, and it’s only the strength I’ve cultivated and that I will choose to stand in that keeps me typing.

I could start in so many, many different areas. I guess I’ll start by saying that I feel very vulnerable about all of it, and this is the thing I am most reluctant to admit to anyone–so this must be the best place to start. When all else fails: tell the truth!

Well first, the URL change–which is actually the last thing to change in a series of changing events, but since you’re here, I’ll start here. I’ve had the domain name selftaughtgirl.com for many years. When I bought it, I had this idea in my head that it was a fitting name because I was, in so many ways, “self taught.” I carried with me a story that whatever I had achieved in my life, I had done by my own good graces and with a lot of grit and determination to surmount any obstacle or challenge that might arise.

And it’s funny, because after the past few weeks of working harder than I can ever remember working in my life, on something that means a lot to me, it hit me just less than a week ago that in fact, I was never “self taught.” I was never alone. Where in the world did I get that idea? When I think back, I think of so many helping hands or moments of grace where something unfolded in just the way that I needed it to unfold. The idea that I was alone and creating my own path without collaboration or help was just a story. Thus, I purchased a URL that I think more accurately expresses what I really believe myself to be about.

Then rewind, to go back further…

I keep trying to feel my way to remembering “where this story began.” Where did this chapter begin? 

I’m still not sure. I can say that this most recent trip to Italy changed me in big ways. The realization that I want to become a mother changed me in big ways. I have been actively stretching myself into a new space ever since.

And then a few weeks ago, as part of doing Mondo Beyondo, as part of the growing realization that I wasn’t feeling fulfilled by teaching any longer and that I was no longer getting the gifts I’d hoped to get, I started looking around and asking myself what I really wanted to shift in my life. I’d felt so good in Italy, so whole. The weeks after my return from Italy were also full of that goodness and wholeness and then when school began again, the balance slowly began to waiver and totter–then bam!–back to feeling pressed. The headaches began.

If there is one thing I always told myself growing up, it was that I would not work a job just for the money. I watched as both of my parents worked jobs that they massively resented in order to put food on the table. I have always been determined not to do that to myself. As I’ve become an adult myself, I’ve learned that part of the work is to work on myself–that unhappy people are unhappy in jobs everywhere, regardless of what the job was. 

Now, I generally consider myself to be a pretty aware, “with it” person around what is true/resonates for me, but somehow I had just completely missed that I was not happy with teaching and that I craved something different. When I asked myself what I craved, the answer was just sitting right there, with no real work: I want to fully step into being a Life Coach. I’ve done it for the past three years, I love doing it, and I want to do more of it. Also, I want to lead retreats. And finally, I want to actually put together that e-course I’ve been kicking around ideas with for the past few years.

But right on the heels of that admission came this: but you can’t do that you can’t quit teaching you can’t give up the security what about the money what about the job what about the security in this economy are you crazy that’s ridiculous teaching isn’t that bad so just shut up and deal with it.

And I feel very fortunate that I had that reaction and it happened during a moment of clarity, because had it happened at some other point, I’m not sure I would have “heard” it. When I heard myself in this way, loud and clear, I went: “What? Excuse me, what? That is not me.”

But of course, it was me. I sat there and let it sink in that what I wanted to do was let go of my job as a teacher of English and step into being a different kind of teacher. I just let that sink…in…that this was what I really, really wanted. I watched as that run-together voice of fear came back. 

I began to cry, because now I have enough experience that I heard that run-together fearful voice the way I would hear it if I were holding space as a Life Coach for a client. I cried with compassion for all the times I’ve heard that voice in my clients, and I cried with fear,  knowing that now I knew what I wanted to do and there was nothing to hide behind. I knew that I would be out of integrity with myself if I stayed in a job that was not fulfilling me fully, even if there are many parts of it that are wonderful, just because I was afraid of the “what about the money” part.

I had a friend once who had dated a guy for a bit. He seemed pretty nice. We were IM’ing one day and she mentioned that she had broken up with him. I asked her why, because she’d never expressed any truly serious, deep issues with him, and she replied–and I can see the IM clear as day–”Because I was only 75% happy, and I wasn’t willing to settle for 75%.” 

And I thought: WOW. I admired it. Some might read that kind of statement as narcissism. I read it as a declaration to the world that is about living big, and being unafraid to do so.

The entire weekend before I gave my leave of absence from teaching, I was sick to my stomach. I felt as if I’d swallowed rocks. I woke up in the middle of the night with my stomach in agony. I was terrified to do it. And then, that Monday, I typed out my letter and headed in to campus and knocked on my Chair’s door, spoke with her briefly without getting into too much drama-laden detail, she was completely supportive, and then I left. 

I felt lighter, having done it. I manifested, I read books about wishing. Then, I buckled down and got to work.

I had known that my coaching website felt sadly outdated for awhile. That was what I worked on, first. I give you:

http://www.yourcourageouslife.com

and then I began working on the e-course. I have known for awhile that I wanted to do an e-course, something that got more in-depth than many of the e-courses I’ve seen (and that is not to knock them–I think that they look lovely and sound like a lot of fun, and Mondo Beyondo was a wonderful experience for me). Having worked as a Coach these past few years, I’ve arrived at a place where I combine a lot of magical thinking and play in my work with the nuts and bolts tools and making powerful choices. I’ve wanted to make a course that did that for some time.

Here it is: http://www.thecourageousyear.com

So between thiscourageouslife.com, yourcourageouslife.com, and the courageousyear.com, you might notice a theme. And no, it’s not that my design skills have improved over the years. That word–courageous–has carried me farther than anything in my life. It is this word that I realized, as I was thinking about the domain selftaughtgirl.com, was really responsible for whatever I have created. 

I define courage as feeling the fear, doing it anyway, transforming. Whatever I have achieved in my life has not been because I was alone and “self taught,” it has been the result of tremendous courage and the helping hands of so many beautiful souls and experiences.

The past few weeks, I’ve been working as if I had two jobs. Teaching, teaching, teaching, coaching, coaching, coaching. I sense a huge shift in the very way that I’m setting all of this up, as compared to any of my other freelance endeavors. The other things I was setting up were things that I could do in my spare time. I am setting this up as the sole focus of my work. This has involved new bank accounts, setting up a meeting with a financial consultant, meeting and starting to work with a marketing person (who, I think, I will start referring to as my “marketing guru” because I think she’s so damned good). Also, lots of telling the truth–admitting again and again that I feel afraid, admitting again and again that my hope is that this leave of absence is in fact permanent and that I make a true transition to a new career, the one my heart has been yearning for ever since I left graduate school, really (I read an article at the career development office about a woman who had become a Life Coach, and something in my heart said “I want to do that” but it was another few years before I would act).

And with all of these very scary steps, I am learning in a bigger and deeper way what courage really is. I had had no idea that I was so afraid until that moment when it all sort of descended. Then there was the lightness of letting go and the past few weeks there has been the stress of trying to build something–and I have had many, many frustrated moments where I’ve suddenly asked myself, “What the hell am I doing? Am I crazy? Do I even want to do this?” (Note to self: they usually happen when I am Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired. Or sitting in front of the computer for far too long, trying to get oooooonnnneeee more thing done because I was so excited about this 10/01/09 launch date). 

And now, after all that, I feel more of a sense of just being along for the ride, and being curious, and being willing to see what is on the other side of the fear. I have wished, I have worked hard, I have hoped and I have had fear, and now I release it into the world, the way I would open my palm to let a small bird fly.

~ with so much gratitude ~

The miracles at a Next Step workshop are always undeniable, big, huge. Love, love, love doing this work, even as much as it chokes me up and terrifies me to do it.

The piece that I got this weekend, the piece that frankly I am just too exhausted to go into detail about in this moment but that felt so vital I wanted to remember it and had to write it down, declare it, put it out there–the piece that was huge for me this time was about letting go and not having attachment.

It can’t be practiced, I’m realizing. It’s something that one steps into. It’s a choice one makes (maybe the choice is the practice).

It’s a choice that I made this weekend, after noticing the pain it caused me to hold on tight to my opinions, beliefs, the “shoulds” that I have around other people or life or what the Universe hands me.

I looked around and had this moment where I got that Life was my biggest teacher, that every single experience of my day was there, waiting to see when I am going to wake up and see it fully, turn it over, get the lesson.

Wow. Our assignment for Mondo Beyondo (yesterday!) was to post our lists. What a delicate thing it is. Even if I am in the business of holding space while helping others find their way to the other side of their fear, I notice that the fear does not necessarily dissipate for me easily (which is why I love the adjective “courageous,” which I define as “being afraid, doing it anyway”).

Last night while doing some process work, I noticed that what came up for me, from a very sad place, was a fear that I have “used all my wishes up.” I’m so lucky in so many ways, so fortunate, and have already had a number of amazing synchronous experiences that make for amazing stories to tell. Is it even realistic to hope for more and actually expect to get it? Am I selfish for wanting more despite all the good that I have?

This tapped me into realizing that I’ve resisted fully owning what I most want to do as a coach–I most desire to help other women who are, in so many ways, “just like me,” or who at least occupy the space that I used to occupy 24:7. Women who are smart and funny and big-hearted, who can make things happen and know they’ve done it before but who feel stuck for various reasons and aren’t sure how to make it happen again. Women who know that they have an amazing amount of potential, but they’re feeling sidelined by feelings of sadness or anger or just general powerlessness, and a therapy room isn’t necessarily the place they want to be because that’s a different type of work, perhaps work they’ve even done already, yet going it alone isn’t quite making the cut, either. Women who guilt the shit out of themselves with thoughts like, “I’m so lucky, I’m so fortunate, I’ve already had so many blessings…so what’s wrong with me, that I’m still not fulfilled?” Women who compare themselves with others and know it’s a losing game to do that yet still find themselves doing it, anyway, and then that part–the doing something that isn’t helpful even when we know better–spawns its own guilt and frustration. Women who have defined their lives by doing stuff and want to get off of that treadmill but who want to figure out what life means if they do that, step off the treadmill.

I think I’ve been telling myself for years now that I needed to continue with teaching not just for financial reasons but because the students that I teach, most of which need work on remedial skills just to prepare them for transfer level courses, needed me. Even if they thought I was the biggest bitch ever because I didn’t allow them to just do whatever they wanted, the important thing, the thing I have always known in the back of my mind, is that I cared. I have seen and read about any number of teachers who, bless their hearts, get so burned out or have so much life crap going on or just never really wanted to teach in the first place or who are bitter because they wanted a cushy Uni job but instead got this other job. I haven’t wanted to be those teachers. I’ve had this story that for my life’s work to be meaningful, it had to involve helping those who needed it most, and that had to involve helping people who had barriers in the race/class department.

I still believe that that is meaningful work to do, but through this practice of devoting daily time to really looking at what I want, I’m realizing more and more that it’s a subject I’m passionate about, and just not one that I’m fully invested in in this moment. What if that’s okay?

What if it’s just as meaningful to work with the women who don’t necessarily have all of these social forces working against them, but they are still in their own private hell (and from personal experience, I feel it’s okay to call it that), and that hell involves a constant barrage of self-criticism and feeling overwhelmed and scarcity around money and time and guilt because we “shouldn’t be” feeling that way?

What if it’s okay to just allow my heart to “want what it wants” and what it wants at this stage in my life is to let go of teaching and focus solely on the work I do as a Coach and workshop facilitator?

And with those questions, I noticed myself relax, and release, and a sense of peacefulness has followed me ever since this realization, even if I am aware that what follows is not necessarily quitting my teaching job tomorrow.

Let your heart want what it wants. Good things are there.

And, what follows is…my list!

1.) To have a relationship with Andy that is so strong and connected that it “leaves God speechless.”

2.) To fully heal and let go and forgive any past pain, especially with my parents.

3.) To lead one workshop a month, consisting of 20+ women, and for this to be my career and financial livelihood.

4.) To have a financially, creatively, and emotionally fulfilling coaching practice.

5.) To have a best female friend, with whom I can be completely loved and honored (and that I also completely love and honor).

6.) To publish my books and writing with editors and mentors who value my work.

7.) To own my own four-bedroom home in a safe area in the San Francisco Bay Area.

8.) To walk through the world with such big love that I connect easily and immediately with others and occupy a space of love and connection that leaves no one who meets me feeling like a stranger.

9.) To travel as often as I desire, without financial constraint.

10.) To have no aches, pains, or illness in my body.

11.) To have a healthy baby (Note to Universe: Feel free to put this one on hold for another 2-3 years!).

12.) To have complete financial independence (money in the bank) and financial freedom (freedom from the shame, guilt, and other ick that tends to surround money in our culture).

13.) To have a caring and committed tribe of friends.

I notice that I keep adding to the list, which I’m having a lot of fun with. I also notice that what I’m wishing for isn’t actually so far off from what I’ve got, and that’s really exciting to me. My relationship with Andy is one that is close and connected already, though we do fall out of integrity with it and there’s more ground to cover. I’m already doing the work of forgiveness and letting go. I’m already stepping into the dream of leading workshops. I’m already coaching part-time and with my newfound realizations around what I want to do career-wise, I’m planning to only teach part-time next semester. There are so many things on this list that I’ve already done a lot of prep and paving for, and that is exciting and beautiful.

Even if you didn’t sign up for Mondo Beyondo, I wonder: What’s your dream? (Totally makes me think of that guy at the end of the movie Pretty Woman, which is fun to laugh about. “What’s yo’ dream? Everybody’s gotta dream…gotta keep on dreamin’!”)

Photo by Vivienne McMaster

I so wanted to write over the weekend, or even yesterday, about my excitement with joining Mondo Beyondo.

I completely and totally believe in “mondo beyondo” thinking. I would be more inclined to call it manifesting, or creating one’s life as they wish, but the term “mondo beyondo” is a lot of fun, too. I see it as a term that encompasses both dreaming big as well as the magic of manifesting as well as what I would refer to as “mondo beyondo” moments, or synchronicities–those moments when something happens in this completely easeful way and I realize that my dream has movement and little signs are showing me that it’s coming true.

I first met Andrea years ago, when I made a trip to Davis, California, because I had been accepted into the UC-Davis graduate creative writing program (“mondo beyondo” moment–a college counselor had convinced me to go to graduate school for creative writing, after talking to me and intuiting that in fact writing was what I wanted to do. Rachel, I cannot thank you enough for that!). I made a side trip down to San Francisco, which I had always wanted to see (“mondo beyondo” here–I grew up in Kansas City, Missouri, and then went to undergrad near Chicago, and would you believe that people throughout my life have randomly told me, “You would really like San Francisco”?). I knew about Andrea’s beautiful necklaces via SARK books (though I don’t think Andrea yet had a blog) and since I was coming through, we arranged to meet for coffee.

She told me about how she met SARK during this meeting, and explained the game of Magpie. Excited, I went home and did it. It was a really, really tough time in my life. I was dating this guy who was a total sociopath, and probably a sex addict. He’d cheated on me a few times, sometimes with friends of mine, once in my own bed and once in my car, and–wowza–I kept taking him back, pretending to believe the lies he was feeding me about how he’d never done anything at all. Even when I made this trip to San Francisco, he was calling me on my cell phone and yelling at me if I couldn’t talk to him because I was shuttling between UC-Davis events or trying to see as much of San Francisco as possible before leaving. My friends had stopped speaking to me, something that was very painful but oddly enough, I kind of understood. I mean, I didn’t really think much of me. Why should they? I’d started doing freelance graphic design before meeting this guy, but then he was always wanting to go out, spend money on dinners, etc. I did poorly on some design assignments and my savings account dwindled because of all of these dinners (sometimes he’d make plans for us to meet up with friends but I’d say I didn’t have money. He’d say he would cover it, but then when the bill would come, he’d hand it straight to me, right in front of them, because he knew I wouldn’t protest about the bill with them sitting there!).

It occurs to me now that while I did write about problems in the relationship at the time, I actually was never brave enough to be honest with most people about what was really going on. Like I said, it was a really, really low point in my life.

But I had my writing, and I had discovered Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, and something was dwelling in me that wanted to come out. I went home after meeting Andrea and played magpie, asking what it was that I needed to help me in my life, and landed on the word “credit.” The first listed definition was “Faith, belief.”

I wrote it on a post-it note, and hung it in my college dorm room. That post-it note has traveled with me to every home I’ve ever lived in, since. It has gone on every corkboard near my desk. At a time when I most needed faith and belief in myself, it seemed like something magic reached out from the beyond to give it to me. I so needed that. I still look at that post-it (now fading and a little gnarled around the edges) with utter kindness.

All of my biggest dreams have been the result of “mondo beyondo” thinking. Simply living the life that I am living today, which is a combination of photoshoots and life coaching and time for creative daydreaming and writing and my amazing partner who I admire and love so much…all of this came from a space of being willing to dream big.

I want to use my time with mondo beyondo to connect more. I love the idea of not creating in solitude any longer. I want to declare to the Universe that I need support, I need people. I have a lot of great skills that take me far, and I do let people help, but I still don’t sink into complete vulnerability in the ways that I want to. For instance, note that I said that I “let” people help.

I want complete surrender.

I have also realized lately that I have some big dreams to create. The start of a new semester of teaching English at the college level has only reconfirmed for me that it’s a great job, and yet it’s just not the space that I want to inhabit right now. What I do want to create is more space for myself for coaching (which has been so, so, so busy lately, with requests coming from all over, and it’s so hard to have the teaching demands that limit my availability when all I want to do is follow that energy!) and facilitating workshops (I’m so excited–I have found an alternate workshop space that is going to cut the cost of the workshop by almost half! Go see The Courageous Traveler for an upcoming announcement, and subscribe to the mailing list).

So here’s to “mondo beyondo” thinking, and stepping into a space that is about big-ness and expansion and creation. I am excited to see how the next five weeks unfold.

I am always reading three or four (or five or six) different books at once, but the one I picked up two days ago at a bookstore had to be a good one. What with being a house-sitter now instead of someone with a permanent address, the only books I keep with me anymore are those I know I’ll read (libraries become quite an issue as I have zero willpower in them). And so far, I’m loving it and predict that it will be the next Eat, Pray, Love -esque sensation:The Wishing Year by Noelle Oxenhandler.

It’s a book about her forays into manifesting, into making wishes. Arriving at a crossroads in her life, she takes a tip from her friend Carole and begins, tentatively at first, putting herself out there and daring to wish, pushing past all of the messages we’re fed about how we should “only wish for something holy” or “it’s wrong to wish for material things” or “you shouldn’t wish for things for yourself, you should wish for them for other people.”

The book doesn’t have as strong of a narrative line as Gilbert’s book, and I don’t find it quite as funny, but I relate to what she writes, because even though I would say I’ve experienced any number of manifesting miracles, I confess that I still have those little negative critters in my head. Most recently, I remember feeling incredibly guilty about traveling to Italy in June. There was so much on the news about layoffs and financial troubles, and somehow I had pulled in the money to take this trip and not go into debt. To be quite blunt, there were moments when I felt “like a total asshole,” as I put it to my Coach, Matthew.

He asked me why, and I explained that when people would ask me, “Aren’t you excited? Tell me what you’re going to do!” I would notice myself holding back, not quite wanting to say how excited I was, not quite wanting to say it was great, not wanting to own that I was proud that I had manifested the money and the time, that I had decided upon something I wanted, let go, released, and the Universe (because that is what I believe it is) just brought it to me with little or no effort on my part. It seemed almost…unfair. As a result, I was hardly saying anything about my trip, and I deferred a lot of conversations about it to some other topic.

But this struggle is not simply a recent one. It has been a lifelong challenge to simply be who I am–someone with a willingness to go after what I desire, wholeheartedly, and to sift through the feelings of fear and the possibility of failure and the ohshit moments–and then realize that this can be a huge trigger for others. A friend once told me that whenever we would talk, “you’d have three or four new things going on, and I’d just feel like with me, it was the same old thing every time.” And what she hadn’t realized  was that I didn’t really care about her having new things to report; I simply thought she was great and it had never occurred to me that her life was “the same old” anything (I promptly commenced with telling her this!). I genuinely enjoyed talking with her, laughing with her, window shopping with her, just…hanging out.

I’ve also been told, in both blatant and passive-aggressive terms, that in my joy, I’ve been guilty of selfishness–because I wasn’t keeping a focus on the fact that others were/are suffering. And this has been an accusation that, when lobbed at me, I find to be a little crippling, especially because the times when it has happened I feel clean and in integrity that I wasn’t bragging or talking about some stroke of good fortune in order to make myself feel good–I had only shared it, because I was happy and excited and because I hadn’t anticipated that the person I was talking to would be anything other than happy and excited alongside me.

It was only after some time with personal growth work that made any headway on it at all and realized that, hey, people who are suffering probably wish they weren’t suffering, and the most offensive thing I can do–as someone who was born into this lifetime with access to clean, running water; an education and subsequently a job; a family and partner who love me; a host of social options that come from being born with white skin; a host of options that come from being born into what is currently the richest and most powerful country in the world; a healthy body–would be to not enjoy that fully or to live a life full of nothing but guilt or to reject it in any way. Better to offer it all up in gratitude, loving it, praising it, being thankful for it. Better to continually ask the question: How amazing can my life be? And then: How much more amazing can my life be? And then encouraging others to ask the same questions.

I love it when I can exist totally in this space, and some days it is a challenge more than others. When I had this pre-trip session with Matthew, I was not existing in a good space. I was feeling guilty, worried that I would trigger others and that they might reject me in some way, or feel badly about their own lives.

[Notice, by the way, how laughable it is that I put myself and my own tiny little Ego at the center of so much of this!]

“So what if they feel bad about their lives?” Matthew said.

I think I might have blinked a few times and then said, “Come again?”

“So what if they feel bad about their lives?” he repeated.

“Um…I don’t want to make someone feel bad about their life.”

“How in the world could you do that?”

“Well, if someone else wants to travel but they can’t because they don’t have the money or time, they might feel bad if I talk too much about my trip,” I explained.

“So what if they feel bad?” he said. “Sometimes pain is just what we need in order to look around at our lives and decide to make changes.”

And then he pointed out to me that it wasn’t my responsibility to usher in other people’s happiness–that’s theirresponsibility–and no one else is responsible for my own happiness–that’s my responsibility–and that even if I wanted to, I couldn’t control other people’s feelings anyway.

The thing I love about Matthew is that he said all of this so lovingly, without any of the “So get over yourself, already” subtext that I find myself thinking of as I relay the session, now.

We live in such an odd society with so many mixed messages about happiness: what it means, what it looks like, how to get it, who deserves it and who doesn’t deserve it, how one can become deserving, the ways in which one can fall from grace and no longer be deserving.

I realize that I am stepping out of my comfort zone and into a bigger space when I declare this: 

IT’S ALL KIND OF BULLSHIT!

No, wait: IT’S ALL BULLSHIT!

Thaaat’s better.

The people who raised us, who made sacrifices both big and small, did not invest that time and effort and energy for any of us to live halfway. 

And I am hardly perfect, and don’t anticipate that I will become perfect tomorrow, and yet I am declaring right now that I deserve, absolutely, to live 100% fully alive because that’s why I’m here.

And I can’t imagine that you, reading this, are perfect, but I am declaring right now that you, absolutely, without a doubt in my mind, deserve to live 100% fully alive. That’s why you’re here, too.

I believe that we are at a place in time, especially with so many global crises occurring, where we need to do away entirely with this notion of who is and isn’t deserving. It seems to me that “the bad guys” are created by this very notion. People who have been taught that they are worthy and good in healthy ways simply do not become terrorists. I think of a bumper sticker I’ve seen several times now: “We are creating our enemies faster than we can kill them.” We create them through poverty and lack of the basic necessities. While I do not currently experience poverty or lack of access to basic necessities, I do know that when I am personally fulfilled–when all of my needs are attended to–I am a better person in this world. 

So why not live abundantly? Why not ask how much better life can be? Why not dream bigger? 

I think we need the world to be more committed to dreaming bigger than to disaster management. We need the world to be more committed to possibility than to shrinking away in fear.

I grew up in the Midwest, a place where one is conditioned to read words like this and have a response that is something along the lines of: “Enough with the hippie-talk. You don’t get somewhere through wishing and dreaming. You get somewhere through hard work and sacrifice. The hard work is what determines who deserves/gets what they want.”

While my “rational mind” tells me that this is the truth, some deeper knowing beyond all knowing that is in me has story upon story upon story of magic in my own personal experience, of times and ways that something I wanted, something I was afraid to want, something that seemed so BIG (too big!) to want, came to me–almost effortlessly. What I did time and time again was this: I was more committed to what I wanted, than I was to fear.

I always know that I am on my way to bringing something great into my life when I am more committed to the thing I’m bringing than I am to fear (and fear can show up as procrastination, excuses, outright fear, crying, a sudden predisposition for drama, critical voices…so many different things).

I also believe that the fear shows up in direct proportion to how badly something is wanted. If MONSTER fear is showing up, you can believe that there’s a MONSTER desire behind it. The fear is showing up big because I am dreaming big. 

I refuse to believe that dreaming big could ever be wrong.

So here’s what I’m currently wishing to bring into my life. Some of these things feel bigger and harder than others, and I’m trying to notice that and just believe that they are all the absolutely the same. 

1. Complete and total forgiveness, on a core “little kid” level, of my parents.
2. Greater intimacy with Andy. No more wasting time with the petty arguments.
3. Patience. Inner calm. More ease with tapping into my knowing beyond all knowing higher self.
4. To be a multi-millionaire. [**Oooh, does that one ever trigger the "Who do you think you are?" gremlins...]
5. To own a home in the Trestle Glen area of Oakland, which serves as a home base for Andy and I when we are in California, but which also allows some an artist or student to house-sit for us (in exchange for free room/board) while we are away.
6. To travel as often as I was inspired to travel–probably 3-4 months out of the year.
7. To have a child // To trust that I’ll be an amazing mother.
8. To teach classes part-time, and only at the college where I desire to teach.
9. To coach part-time.
10. To have a healthy, disease-free body. [I currently have this, and wish for the chronic aches/pains to let go of their hold, release their grip.]
11. To publish my writing–novels–non-fiction–short stories with a company who really desires my work and treats it well.
12. For my writing to be received well, understood, nurtured.
13. A wider circle of close friends who are committed to a shared vision for our lives/the world.
14. One very close female friend–the kind of best friend that seemed so easy to find at five years old. Utter trust, loyalty, laughter, joy, and a willingness to invest the time into the relationship.
15. To speak Italian fluently and effortlessly.
16. To travel to India this upcoming December.
17. To visit NYC this upcoming October.

That’s where I start. 

What about you? If you were to step outside of your comfort zone and declare boldly that you wanted something–something you know you’re terrified to want or something that you think you “shouldn’t” want or something you’re pretty sure would “never happen”–what would it be?