Category: pov musings

  • uncertainty

    3/8 — the third rule of her way club (aka: how to change your life in 6-12 months)

    SEP 12, 2025

    Continuing our 8 rules of her way club series. If you’re just joining, begin here:

    1/8 — deciding to play by your own rules
    2/8 — subtracting what doesn’t belong
    3/8 — the natural consequence: uncertainty

    Without inherited structures, you’re floating.

    If the first rule of her way club is making the choice to play by your own rules, and the second rule is subtracting everything that doesn’t belong to your life, then, if you’re doing it right, ultimately you will be led to the third rule as a natural consequence: uncertainty.

    Uncertainty acts as a doorway. 

    You’re supposed to feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

    The moment you stop living by borrowed rules and strip away everything false, you feel lost. The familiar timelines and “shoulds” vanish. And in their absence, uncertainty arrives.

    This is an initiation.

    It might feel like failure or danger. But it’s not. It’s the proof you’re on the right track.

    This is the part where you lean in and learn what is actually meant for you on a moment-to-moment basisThis is what being truly alive feels like.

    Your potential is determined by the amount of uncertainty you’re willing to embrace.

    If you’ve been journeying alongside me for a while, you will know that I spend extraordinary amounts of time in uncertainty, which I call by various names: the unknownthe void or the magic dark.

    Here are some examples:


    Career/Work

    I figured out pretty early on, in my early twenties, that the status quo career path was not going to be able to offer me the kind of life that I wanted. I had concluded that school was never meant to teach us how to learn effectively. It was to train us to be obedient. 

    Apropos nothing, but a side note I want to venture down briefly: Now, with the rise of AI, this truth is becoming impossible to ignore. The stable, predictable career paths of our parents and grandparents that promised safety and security are dissolving. The world now demands agility, responsiveness, and creativity. It’s an exciting opportunity. It means we get to consciously and deliberately choose (in true her way club vibes) how we spend our time, how we create value, how we resource our lives. The cost is that it requires a willingness to linger in the discomfort of uncertainty, sometimes for long stretches of time.

    I had to carve out a path of my own. 

    At the time, I didn’t know what direction I wanted to go in. I had a psychology degree, a love for writing and a personality. Those were the three things I had available to me.

    It was 2012.

    I used my writing hobby to start a blog.
    I used my psychology knowledge to provide a lens.
    I used my personality to build connections and relationships.

    Over time, I learned how to trust my own rhythm, built a successful personal brand and saw how clients, ideas, and opportunities began to appear because I was willing to hold steady in the uncertainty.

    The journey of uncertainty often looks like:

    • Letting go of control
    • Trusting your intuition
    • Embracing failure as a learning opportunity
    • Discovering your true passions and strengths

    In 2022, ten years later, I became complacent.

    I lost my drive, my direction was diluted, I forgot what I stood for, and I burned out. 

    After many mini cycles of uncertainty throughout my career up to that point, I entered one large period of uncertainty that lasted almost two years. Until recently, I spent a lot of time in confusion, feeling lost and being on the verge of giving up. 

    This is where the magic dark comes into play.

    I had to spend enough time in uncertainty for the right amount of vision to form, for clarity to arrive, to be able to launch myself into a new way of life.

    I have been promising you that I will share what this journey is all about, and I will. I already have an essay drafted, but keep editing, adding to it, and rewriting it because there’s a lot to say. And today, here in this space, is not the place.


    Home/Travel

    If there’s one area of life where I seem to have an unusually high risk tolerance, it’s where I place my feet and call home.

    In the past decade alone, I’ve packed my life into a suitcase or two and moved to a small town in Canada, a village in Mexico, a coastal city in the UK, then Mallorca, and most recently, New York City, each one chosen without ever having visited before.

    Sometimes these moves worked out beautifully, sometimes not. One thing has become abundantly clear:

    There is no perfect place.

    Every place will offer you something. A piece of yourself you hadn’t yet met, a lesson you didn’t know you needed, a relationship that will shape you.

    If you can choose a place that supports the season of life you are in and leave it when it no longer does, you are doing it right.

    Landing in a new place with no safety net, no mapped-out plan, just a suitcase and the decision to trust your instincts offers a peculiar kind of initiation. There is a mix of thrill and terror as you wander strange streets, question if you belong, and feel the weightlessness of having no context.

    But there is also something else: a sharpening of your senses.

    Living without inherited structures forces you into presence. You notice what food you crave, which streets feel friendly, who looks you in the eye, and the natural rhythm of your creativity and agency. Belonging drips in slowly, one kind stranger, one favourite café, one new friendship at a time.

    Each place I’ve lived has stripped me bare and handed me back to myself with greater clarity. They’ve offered me relationships I never could have imagined and moments of beauty that would never have happened if I had stayed still.

    It’s not that relocating is easy. It is often lonely. It is unmooring. But if you can stay with that discomfort long enough to let the edges soften, if you can learn to resource yourself from within while waiting for the puzzle pieces to fall into place (or don’t, and then you get to choose again), what comes from that space is unmatched.

    My career, friendships, and creativity all have roots in the decision to keep moving until I found places that matched my internal world. Without those leaps into the unknown, I suspect my life would be much, much smaller.


    Personal Connections

    If you’ve been with me a while, you know that I just went through the most brutal breakup of my life, so I am keeping this section brief. And… I am glad it happened.

    (If you want to catch up, the whole story is tucked inside the archives; a breadcrumb trail from the day we met a year ago to the day it ended two months ago.)

    In truth, there isn’t a single romantic relationship or friendship I regret releasing. Because what has grown in the fertile soil of those endings has always been worth it: deeper intimacy, clearer boundaries, a closer relationship with myself and others.

    It is never easy.

    There is always a deep and terrifying ache right after an ending. The kind that empties your chest, keeps you up at night, and makes you question every decision you’ve made in your life. The mind spins a million scenarios about how this is the end of love, the end of goodness, the end of belonging.

    But on the other side of that ache, there is something else, waiting. Usually, exactly the kinds of personal connections you have been yearning for. The ones that needed you to be ready for them.

    You can’t skip this stage. You can’t think your way through it. You can only live it. Floating in the unknown until the ground reappears beneath you. You can never arrive here without being in the uncertain in-between.


    Creativity

    Creativity is your unique contribution to the collective. But letting yourself be seen in your creative expressions can feel life-ending. 

    Many of you reading this are here right now: standing in that moment of decision. Should I start a Substack? Should I release the thing I’ve been dreaming about? Should I show myself more fully online, or dare to call myself an artist, a writer, a maker, a founder?

    This year, my biggest leap of uncertainty was finally admitting to myself that I am a creator and giving myself permission to share what I create in a way that feels aligned, meaningful, and honest.

    For more than a decade, I’ve been publishing writing for mostly free. I had it drummed into me that content marketing was a single file path and that I couldn’t deviate from it. I couldn’t bring myself to put a paywall around the tender, personal parts until just a few months ago. 

    And then, the moment I did, when I went all in, in valuing my writing and my memoir-style expositions, everything shifted. The work deepened. The readers who stayed became more engaged. As of today, I am only ten subscriptions away from becoming a Substack bestseller.

    There are other projects: courses, offerings, collabs that I sometimes sit on for months because I am scared no one will value them, that they won’t be well-received, that they’re not good enough, that they will vanish into the void. 

    But I’ve learned that if I can stay in that liminal space, uncomfortable as it is, something happens. The edges of the idea sharpen. The delivery deepens. The work becomes more potent. 

    And the things that don’t work out feed into things that do, which, as a counter-effect, become better than anything I have created before.

    Uncertainty is a creative pressure. It forces me to listen more closely, to refine, to make sure what I’m bringing into the world is the truest version I can offer.

    And with every round of staying with that discomfort, my capacity grows. I get better at holding myself in the unknown. Better at waiting for clarity to arrive. Better at trusting that what emerges from that space will have more depth, more resonance, more impact than if I had rushed to get it out just to soothe my own anxiety.

    The act of creating while uncertain is the transformation. It is what gives the work its aliveness, its resonance. When I let myself create from that place of risk, readers feel it. Clients feel it. I feel it.


    You’re supposed to feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

    But when it comes to living an extraordinary life, which is the only way to live a life that is truly your own (and what her way club is all about), most people interpret “feeling uncertain” as a sign they have taken a wrong turn. So they give up. They run back to the familiar and comfortable life that was planned for them. The one the system approves of, even if it’s the very life they were trying to escape.

    And maybe that’s why you’re here, reading this.

    Because deep down, you know you want more for yourself than the version of life you were handed. And to enjoy your life. Not just one day, but now, and into the future. 

    To enjoy your life, you have to keep learning, growing, evolving, and changing. And there is no way to change your life without spending time at the edge of the unknown.

    Uncertainty is the doorway.

    It’s the signal that you are in the exact place where transformation can happen.

    If the first rule of her way club is deciding to live by your own rules, and the second rule is subtracting everything false, then this… this floating, this disorientation, this not-knowing, is where the magic happens.

    Stay here.
    Stay with it.
    Stay long enough for your new life to appear.


    Some related articles you might enjoy reading:

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  • subtraction

    2/8 — the second rule of her way club (aka: how to change your life in 6-12 months)

    Continuing our her way club series. If you’re just joining, begin here:

    1/8
    2/8

    We were sitting in my friend’s garden in upstate New York a few weeks ago. Both of us trying to reclaim our lives after they had been dismantled by forces beyond our control. Our conversation hummed with ways to feel just a little lighter when everything seemed too heavy.

    The afternoon air was warm and green. Bees staggered from flower to flower. Cooled white wine warmed in the sun. Behind us, the house held the relief and wreckage of recent change. Boxes half unpacked, a rug rolled like a sleeping animal, the door left open to catch whatever breeze might pass. My chest felt unsteady, as if the ground under my ribs kept shifting. Hers too.

    “The one thing that works for me when I’m deeply unhappy, when life feels misaligned and everything seems to be falling apart, is subtraction,” I said. “It’s looking at my life and stripping away anything that doesn’t make me feel good. Habits. Expectations. Commitments. Thoughts. Words. It’s usually less about what I need to add, and more about what I need to put down.”

    Her face lit up. “I think that’s what I need to do, too. Remove everything that isn’t essential to the life I’m rebuilding.”


    Life is so much better when you know what you’re living for.

    Most of us have been tricked into thinking that “more” equals fulfilment. That meaning comes from piling more onto our plates. More doing, more striving, more proving. A fancier job title, a fuller calendar, a prettier home, a shinier version of ourselves.

    And yet, the moments I’ve actually felt joy, contentment, relief, almost always arrive after letting something go. After I’ve stopped trying so hard to live up to some imaginary standard. After I’ve decided not to carry what wasn’t mine.

    We are far better at adding than subtracting. Adding habits, projects, rules, identities, expectations. A way to reassure ourselves that we’re worthwhile, lovable, keeping up.

    But what if the thing we actually need isn’t more? What if it’s less? A stripping down, a paring back, until what remains feels closer to who we are at our core.

    Subtraction is the quiet art of laying things down. It brings us back to center without scolding ourselves. It builds a frame we actually want to live inside.

    It asks simple questions: What habits, expectations, commitments, thoughts, words, beliefs, practices, attitudes, people, places can I subtract to get my life back on track? Where have I gotten sloppy? Where am I leaking energy, quietly wasting the life force I will never get back?

    And then, decide for yourself what that is and how much is enough.


    At a party on Shelter Island, Kurt Vonnegut tells Joseph Heller that their host, a hedge fund manager, made more in a single day than Heller earned from Catch-22 in its entire history.

    Heller shrugs.
    “Yes,” he says.
    “But I have something he will never have: enough.”

    Knowing what you have is enough is a quiet power.

    Enough steps walked. Enough friendships. Enough discipline. Enough money. Enough clothes. Enough love. Enough joy.

    It’s the pause in your chest when you could go for more but don’t.
    It’s the quiet nod in your mind that says: this is enough.

    Enough is peace, it’s relief, it’s contentment. It’s seeing what you have, what you’ve built, what you’ve earned and letting it be enough.

    It’s the opposite of greed. and the opposite of more. It’s radical. In a world that screams more, more, more, saying enough is rebellion.

    The way you know it for yourself — the way you choose it — is exactly like the way you decided if you’re in her way club last week (or not.) You stop inheriting other people’s scoreboards. You stop following their timelines, their expectations, their “shoulds.” You pause. You look at your own life. You name what nourishes you, what sustains you, what fills your essence. 

    You decide: this is enough for me.

    From that clarity comes another quiet practice: negative gratitude.

    It’s giving thanks for the things you don’t have. For the health issues that never arrived. For the responsibilities you don’t carry. For the lifestyles, people, pressures that could have crushed you but didn’t. For the “no’s” that gave you freedom.

    We’re always told to be grateful for what we have. And we are. But what about what we’re relieved of? The space, the energy, the freedom quietly gifted by what is absent?

    Take a moment. Look around. What’s missing in the best way possible? What doesn’t exist in your life that makes it lighter, easier, more yours?

    Negative gratitude trains your attention to absence as well as presence. It shows you where you’ve already been spared, already held, already enough.

    Write it down. Say it out loud. Feel it. Let it settle in your chest. Let it remind you: life is not just what arrives, it’s also what doesn’t.


    In that garden, with my friend, subtraction, accompanied by enough-ness and negative gratitude, began to feed the same thing: choosing lightness where we can, so that what remains has room to grow roots.

    We exchanged whispered subtractions, starting small. A newsletter I wasn’t reading, a recurring Zoom meeting that made me tense, a habit of scrolling before bed.

    Each tiny release returning air to our lungs, giving space to our souls. By the time the sun dipped behind the trees, the practice of subtraction transformed from a theory into a reclamation.

    a practice for you:

    Take fifteen minutes today to look at your life through subtraction. Grab a notebook or your phone. Make a quick inventory: habits, commitments, expectations, thoughts, people, places, anything that quietly drains you or keeps you from feeling like yourself. For each one, ask: Does this nourish me? Does this serve me? If the answer is no, make a note to let it go.

    Imagine letting go of a routine self-talk you give yourself without thinking. Every morning that you think, “I should do better,” or “I need to push harder,” like a mantra. It feels harmless, even responsible. But it’s not. It’s a subtle weight you carry, a quiet pressure that shapes your whole day before it’s even begun.

    What if you simply stopped? Not replaced it with another mantra. Not “I am enough” or “I can do this.” Just stopped. 

    The silence that replaces it is startling at first. Your chest feels lighter, your mind less crowded. Instead, you notice the warmth of the sunlight on your skin, the rhythm of your breath, the hum of life around you that had been muted by the constant mental checklist. That small, almost invisible habit of self-criticism had been subtracting from your energy for years, quietly shaping your hours into tension and obligation. Releasing it doesn’t make you lazy or complacent. It makes you present, aligned, capable of pouring your attention into the things intentionally.

    the NO list:

    Here’s a little thing I love doing. I call it the NO list. It’s exactly what it sounds like: a list of all the things you’re done with. All the stuff you’re letting go of. All the habits, commitments, obligations, and little drains you no longer have to carry.

    Grab a notebook, a piece of paper, your phone, whatever works. Set a timer for five minutes. Write fast. Write messy. Don’t censor. Just let it pour.

    What are you done saying yes to?
    What are you done carrying?
    What are you done pretending is necessary?

    It could be huge: “I won’t take on another project that burns me out.”
    Or tiny: “I won’t scroll Instagram first thing in the morning.”
    It can be easy: “I won’t drink coffee past noon on weekdays.”

    Every NO you write is like a little exhale. A clearing. Space for more energy, more focus, more joy.

    When you’re done, leave it somewhere you’ll see it. Saying no is saying yes to yourself.

    Optional: Share one NO in the comments. Let’s celebrate the things we’re done with.

    a micro-vow:

    Before you close this tab, pick one thing you can subtract this week. One habit, one commitment, one mental loop. Say to yourself: I release this. I make space for what truly matters.

    comment below:

    What’s one thing you can subtract, a sense of ‘this is enough’ or a negative gratitude this week that will bring you closer to yourself? What’s the thing on your ‘NO’ list that you’re most excited about letting go? Share it below, so we can be inspired by each other.

  • every day

    There are wispy clouds like someone painted white fine squiggles in the sky with watercolours. A pair of condors is flying overhead, taking turns falling from the sky and then back up again before drifting side to side. They are beautiful, I want to remember the moment. I pick up my phone. Then change my mind. 

    I look at them some more and blink my eyes once like a shutter release to take a snapshot with my mind.

    A swallow swoops down in a perfect U shape and skims the surface of the water I’m submerged in. It is cold and wet against my hot summer skin. It is 32C at 10 am and the air is thick with heat and humidity. I am desolate and sad, and I have a tan which feels like a contradiction.

    On a Zoom call, my therapist says that I am having a delayed trauma response to a brutal rupture. My therapist says breakfast and routine are important, especially when the body is under duress.

    I try to have some semblance of a routine.

    Every day, I eat breakfast. I’ve never been a breakfast person; I don’t wake up hungry. I eat my favourite things. Pineapple. Tasteless. Watermelon. Tasteless. Eggs, scrambled. Tasteless. I try coconut pancakes instead. Tasteless. Coffee. Horrible.

    Every day, I answer emails, have Zoom meetings, and work on commitments I had made before everything fell apart, and I wonder when it will stop feeling empty and meaningless.

    Every day, I walk to the pool and lie in the sun for an hour to let the Vitamin D spill into my body with the ambition that it will fill me with some hope. When the sweat starts to form a sheen on my skin, I let the water swallow me for a while.

    Every day, I fill pages and pages of my journal with thoughts and observations, wishing they will lead me to a clue, an insight, a sign for what to do next.

    Most days, I lie still in bed scanning my body for signs of life.

    For the first time in years, I leave my message notifications on because every ‘ding’ is a vital reminder that I am not alone, that I am loved, that I have not been abandoned. Each note asking me to hold on. Telling me that this will pass.

    My world has shrunk. My system keeps scanning for signs of danger. All I want is familiarity and safety. I cannot go too far in any direction.

    In the early evenings, I walk to a cafe 10 minutes away. 

    Last night I time I ordered rainbow rolls and an iced lemongrass and ginger tea, and ate alone in silence. I think, afterwards, I could go for a walk. I love walking. But I am not myself anymore. Too quickly, the outside world becomes too much. I have to go back home. Back to lying on my bed. Back to overthinking. Desperately looking for some version of a perfect plan that will make this feeling go away.

    The cap on my electrolyte drink is so tight that I cannot twist it open. I go downstairs to ask the doorman to help me. Crying is dehydrating. 

    A man in the lobby tries to strike up a conversation. He asks me where I am from and how long I will be here. His teenage daughters blink at me expectantly. I can tell he’s trying to be kind. I want to tell him that I am sick and heartbroken and do not want his pity or his attention. Instead, I force a smile and tell him that I have a cold and lost my voice and cannot speak right now. It’s also true. I regret wanting to drink my electrolyte drink.

    Back upstairs, my mind begins its familiar looping. A restless, compulsive turning over of questions that refuse to settle: where now, what next, where now, what next. Steady and unsatisfying.

    Do I stay in the States? Do I go back to Europe? Do I begin again somewhere I haven’t yet thought of? Do I simply sit here, in this suspended place, until something becomes more certain than this?

    I move the possibilities around in my mind, but nothing sticks. Everything is blurry with maybe, and too soon. I wish someone would hand me a plan. A project I can immerse myself in that is not mine. A location to be in for something greater than myself. I don’t want to think about myself for a second longer. I want something outside of myself to exist for. I want someone to say: come here, be here, we need you here

    I keep looking at the words I’ve just written in my journal:

    Do you have the patience to wait until the mud settles and the water is clear?
    Can you remain unmoving until the right action arises by itself?

    I stare at them. I don’t know if I do or if I can. But I will try.

    I want to remember that it’s possible, and that waiting doesn’t mean giving up, and that stillness is not the same as being stuck. The only way I know how is to decentralise my attention from my mind to my body. The mind keeps cycling; the body, at least, can soften.

    So I come back to these few small practices.

    Continued here for paid subscribers.

  • how on earth 🌎 do you pack your life into just* a carry-on case?

    *plus a ‘personal item’ bag 🎒

    LIKE THIS:

    The Art of Noticing sponsored this video. You have 3 days left to join us!

    CLICK HERE FOR INFO & REGISTRATION PAGE

    How do you pack your entire life into a carry-on suitcase and a personal item?

    With chaos, creativity, and a lot of rolled-up clothes. In this video, I take you behind the scenes of my last-minute, slightly frantic, and surprisingly successful attempt to pack for a transatlantic move—with two bags and zero chill. You’ll see my strategy (loosely defined), my favourite travel bags, packing hacks (hello, socks in shoes), and some honest real-time stress. 

    Plus: a peek at The Art of Noticing writing club and why it’s the perfect companion for any life transition.

    The bag I was loving on is called the Kono Travel Bag Underseat Backpack Carry-on Luggage Bag.

  • I can’t believe I’ve been here (in Portugal) for 5 months!

    It’s been five months of life in Portugal, and I still can’t believe it.

    In this video, I reflect on the journey so far—returning from Salzburg, settling into Ericeira, and embracing the ever-unfolding adventure of change. People often ask me how I navigate transitions so smoothly, how I move through big life shifts with what seems like ease and grace. The truth? It’s not effortless—it’s a skill I’ve cultivated over years of deep inner work, trust, and surrender. Join me as I share my thoughts on resilience, adaptation, and finding beauty in the unknown.

    If you’re in a season of transition, I hope this video reminds you that change can be met with openness, softness, and strength.

    Let’s dive in.

    Links to articles on topics I mentioned:

    — my Instagram account has been hacked, disabled and is being held hostage for ransom: https://viendamaria.com/2025/02/06/my…

    — redirection (aka: goodbye Instagram): https://viendamaria.com/2025/02/11/re…

    — ALIGNED: https://viendamaria.com/aligned/


    Don’t forget to subscribe here:    / @viendamaria  

    Join over 100 peeps for the Free 6 Day CLARITY Challenge on my website: https://viendamaria.com/from-stuck-to…

    To get these videos directly in your inbox when they come out make sure you sign up to HER WAY CLUB: https://vienda.substack.com

    One of my favourite things to think, write and talk about is the intersection between life design and creating intentional freedom, in a soft, intuitive and feminine way.

    Read my writing here: https://vienda.substack.com

    Lots of love, Vienda x

  • how I taught myself to make my own life

    the unsexy truth about growth, expansion and creating an authentic life in a world that wants us to conform to a set structure

    I was a good girl for all of my childhood. Not because I was innately good. But because I quavered in the fear of ever-looming punishment from caregivers who were not self-regulated*.

    I secretly harboured the desire to run away. I tried, once, when I was 11. I was desperate to grow up so I could make my own decisions. I saw right through the lies the adults told incessantly day in, and day out. I wanted to make my own life.

    One day I was 17. I had finished school and left home without real-life skills. My maternal grandmother had spent years teaching me how to be a good girl so that one day I would marry and become a good wife. I could cook and clean and be pleasing.

    I had no self-esteem, no idea who I was, what I wanted, or even, what I liked.

    Those first few years of ‘adulthood’ were hard. I had no real support network and had to figure everything out on my own.

    So I tried lots of things and learned about myself.

    I loved dancing, but not drinking. I loved getting lost in nature, but not in cities. I loved drawing and writing, but not team sports. Except for ultimate frisbee which brought out a competitive streak I didn’t know I had. I loved deep conversations, but not small talk. I was ‘bubbly’ to cover my social anxiety. I was a dreamer and a drifter, who had no solid plans or aims or direction.

    So I travelled: Australia, Austria, Italy, England.

    I worked as a waitress, as a nanny, at an ice cream shop, and in a bar (which I quickly quit because not only do I not like drinking I hate drunk people). I worked as a temp, as a receptionist at a glossy magazine, and as the secretary for a prominent film editor.

    Then, on a particularly cold winter day in London, a few months after turning 20 I decided to study psychology in the hottest place I could find. That hot place was a small university in the northern tropics edged by The Great Barrier Reef in Australia in the jungle.

    Like many more remote places in Australia, it was backwards unsophisticated and coarse. But I loved it.

    I loved that my professors wandered the campus with long, wild hair and no shoes. I loved that they were honest about who they were (hippies) and why they were there (to get funding for their studies and theories). I loved that I lived a few blocks away from the Coral Sea. I loved that the summers were unspeakably hot until the rains came and when the rain did come it poured in buckets. I loved that winter wear was one measly sweater that got pulled out for three weeks per year. I loved that, in our free time, my friends and I chased waterholes and waterfalls and rainforest walks and secret parties in the bush. I loved that this was where I found yoga, magic mushrooms, and EDM**.

    Spending so much time connecting to nature, both human nature and the natural world around us, I observed something.

    inhale = expansion
    exhale = contraction

    growth = expansion
    introspection = contraction

    creativity = expansion
    discipline = contraction

    life = expansion
    death = contraction

    Each expansion is coupled with a contraction.

    That’s what we’ve got to get comfortable with. That’s the bit we have to embrace. We can’t hold our breath forever. We can’t have expansion without contraction.

    During my studies, I learned that the subconscious mind is a goal-serving mechanism. That when you give it direction it will come up with solutions. I decided that, if I did indeed want to make my life like I promised myself as a little girl, I would have to come up with a formula I could follow to create an authentic life in a world that wants us to conform to a set structure.

    I believe in human agency and our creative power.

    And I also believe in the kismet assertion that parts of our lives are contained by an ecstatic swell of destiny, only accessible by surrender.

    How does that work?

    ~ can we both have direction AND surrender?

    ~ can we step up AND step back?

    The formula that works for me, is seen in the following 4 steps:

    1. listen
    2. trust
    3. follow
    4. repeat

    by listen, I mean:

    • getting SO close to yourself, you can hear your truth
    • becoming able to feel the whisper of your heart (contraction and expansion)

    by trust, I mean:

    • faith – feeling supported by something bigger (reality, universe, god, life)
    • selfholding – knowing that whatever happens, you have got yourself

    by follow, I mean:

    • taking every necessary step to make it happen
    • committing to the process, no matter how hard, difficult or painful

    by repeat, I mean:

    • keep checking in, is it still true? has it changed?
    • if it’s still true, continue. if not, change.

    This type of surrender is not about sitting back.

    It is about active engagement, continuous tuning in, and following the signposts.

    Once I figured out my formula I discovered that staying on course with my authentic truth in this world doesn’t come naturally. When we’re bombarded by cynicism and criticism and negativity, it’s not easy to smile and shake it off with a sigh and soften back into my own direction.

    It is truly radical to chart your soul’s true path.

    New levels of growth, require new levels of approach. So I reached for sturdier support to hold me.

    1. decide

    Only you can make your life. No accreditation*** or external validation is going to be able to do that for you. It is all down to you. You have to decide. You have to decide what you want. You have to decide that you are worthy of it.

    2. be flexible

    Realign and experiment as many times as it takes. Sometimes, maybe because you’ve been blindsided by limiting beliefs, you haven’t allowed yourself to go deep within to explore what you’re intuitively capable of. Try again. Go deeper. Ask for more.

    3. be bold and daring

    Doubts and fears can cripple our ability to act. It takes courage to walk your own path. Courage is cumulative. And it requires releasing your doubts and fears and allowing yourself to attune to positive, high vibrational, creative energy. There are so many methods for that. I personally often reach for applied kinesiology.

    4. generational rewiring

    Many of the self-concepts we hold are predetermined by generational conditioning. These limit us from living our authentic lives. If I had not devoted myself to rewiring my makeup I’d be an inauthentically unhappy ‘good wife’ right now.

    5. loving compassion

    No long-lasting change has ever come from force or coercion. The only way through is with tremendous tenderness, warmth and compassion.

    6. intuition

    We are all energetically unique. To make your own life you need to bypass the rational mind and connect straight to your energy source: the source of all inspiration and intuition. I do this by having self-dates where I simmer in my own energy or as I heard someone call it recently be in vibrational alignment with myself.

    7. believe that you are more powerful than you know

    It’s all down to you and how you express your energy in a way that is creative and powerful. One of the fastest ways to realign your energy is through the practices of presence and gratitude. There, you enter the quantum field, and everything becomes possible.

    8. be discerning

    Not everything or everyone is for you. Some people, places and things will uplift and expand you. Others will destroy you. Choose wisely.

    Vienda ♥


    *Self-regulation is the ability to manage one’s emotions, thoughts, and behaviours effectively in different situations, allowing for more measured responses rather than impulsive reactions.

    **Electronic Dance Music

    ***Accreditation can, however, boost your self-esteem and confidence enough to give you the courage needed to take the steps necessary for creating your life.

    Some recommend reading:

    15 ways to get clients as a mentor: No, you don’t have to use social media if you don’t want to.

    There IS more to this world. We exist in a particularly delicate precipice of change and transformation. If you’re here, reading this, you will have felt it. (Why we need each other now more than ever and how the TMT accreditation and assessment process helps you become a confident and responsible mentor.)

    Your journey is your greatest asset. And the ONE thing you need to be an impactful and effective mentor, teacher, coach or healer.

    Some recommend listening:

    What does living a creative and intuitively led life look like? Listen to me share my take on this in this week’s episode of Amy Lea’s ‘Unreasonable’ podcast.

  • my european summer carry-on top 10

    ☀ a list of the most excellent, wonderful and important things that I take with me on summer trips incl. the pièce de résistance which is obviously what I am reading this summer.

    The Carry-On Bag. If you’ve ever sweated the excruciatingly tight baggage allowance of cheap inter-euro flights then you know how annoying it is to find a bag that is just the right size with plenty of space for all the things. Last year after my favourite leather backpack found its mortal end I had to find something to replace it and I dare venture that I did find the perfect and sacrificially practical replacement. The Borderlite Travel Underseat Cabin Approved Backpack in blue has become my saving grace. The front pocket even fits my notebooks, laptop and pens, so my mobile office is always with me.

    The Sunscreen. When I told a friend of mine that I don’t believe in sunscreen except for at times like when I was getting burned in the shade in Africa she said “You don’t believe in the science about sunscreen?” and I replied hooking my fingers into air quotes when I said the word science “No, I don’t believe in the “science” which is paid for by marketing companies.” Sun = quite literally life. You just have to know how to use it respectfully. I always have a hat with me in case I feel those rays are a bit too strong, and sometimes when I need it, I use physical mineral sunscreen. My favourite is Everybody Loves the Sunshine Zinc Beach Balm. For rushed moments I also have a Sun Bum stick in my bag at all times.

    The Makeup. The beauty of summer is that bronzed skin, glowing eyes and flushed cheeks don’t require any additions. But for a bit more fun I think a slick of mascara or rouge on the lips is all that is needed. I’ve mentioned my favourites in my ‘love list’ here.

    The Headphones. Alongside my boring old original wired headphones that need an adaptor to plug into any new Apple phone, I have my beloved Sennheiser Momentum 2 Wireless Over-Ear Headphones in White. I bought them as a gift to myself years ago and they are still one of my most beloved and cherished purchases. The sound quality is schmick as my DJ friends say and I love that they have noise cancellation. Here’s the more recent version of the Sennheiser Momentum in white.

    The Toothbrush. My electric Oral B is on its last legs and the things that annoy me the most about it are that it requires constant charging and the charging unit is big and bulky. I do love that electric-toothbrush-only squeaky clean feeling though. So when a friend recommended this £10 alternative whose charge lasts a whole 30 days and can be charged in any USB charging unit I had to try it. The sensation, if you’re accustomed to the circular movement of more traditional electric toothbrushes, is weird at first but it does leave my teeth feeling just as, if not more clean, and I have come to love this toothbrush.

    The Deodorant. I will never stop raving about this deodorant because it is both very natural and very effective and I only have to put it on every 4-ish or so days which I love even more and a tube lasts me about a year. It smells like nothing (?) until it starts to wear off and then you smell like you again instead of nothing. Essentially I think it’s the silver in the product that neutralises any smells and I am here for it. I bought a family pack after my first discovery four years ago, gave one tube away to a friend who also can’t stop raving about it now, and I still have two tubes left. I never ever ever want to be without it. The best deodorant.

    The Dress(es). Due to a delicate nervous system, I get decision fatigue easily and so what works for me is packing no more than 5 options. My dresses currently in circulation are all from Rouje, Faihtful The Lable, Auguste The Label and Reformation, all bought pre-loved. I’ve written before about what is inside my closet as well as my ultimate guide for preloved online shopping.

    The Bikinis. As above, all my bikinis are treasures from Hunza G, Rouje, Spell & The Gypsy Collective, and Faithful The Label that I have virtually unearthed from others’ discard piles.

    The Towel. I love a Turkish towel, a light and simple piece of linen to sit on on the beach or by the pool. The one I have now I bought from a street-seller in South Africa so I have no links to that one but maybe when you go on some travels of your own you will find one.

    The Books. Ahhh, the pièce de résistance is obviously what I am reading this summer. My current selection is:

    It’s just come to my awareness that I haven’t written a ‘favourites’ book line-up since this one from the summer of 2021. Do you think it’s time for an update? Let me know in the comments below.

  • enough

    my life of “it’s enough” instead of “I want more”

    We’ve swallowed the lie whole. It’s in our bones now.

    Our egos have been programmed into the structure.

    This relentless pursuit of more. Always more. Your benchmark keeps changing. You never reach the finish line. The wanting never ends.

    In this capitalist world that constantly whispers “more, more, more”, standing still and saying “I have enough” feels like a rebellion. A quiet revolution of the soul.

    At a party given by a billionaire on Shelter Island, Kurt Vonnegut informs his pal, Joseph Heller, that their host, a hedge fund manager, had made more money in a single day than Heller had earned from his wildly popular novel Catch-22 over its whole history.

    Heller responds, “Yes, but I have something he will never have — enough.”

    enough kms/steps walked

    enough friendships

    enough discipline

    enough money

    enough clothes

    enough love

    enough joy

    enough

    There is a certain magic in embracing enough.

    It’s the moment you stop struggling against the current and simply float. Suddenly, you realise the river’s been carrying you all along.

    As we meet mid-year, I’m learning to trust in the existing abundance.

    I’m tuning into the rhythm of sufficiency that beats in every cell of my body. It’s a gentle pulse that says, “You are enough. You have enough. This moment is enough.”

    In the soft light of dawn, in the quiet moments between breaths, in the space between thoughts — that’s where I’m finding my enough. It’s not a destination, but a way of being — a lens through which to view the world.

    A life of abundance disguised as simplicity. A life of richness measured not in things, but in moments. A life of recognising that the cup isn’t half full or half empty – it’s overflowing, if only we have eyes to see it.

    In this noisy world that’s always clamouring for more, let’s be the ones who dare to whisper “enough”. Let’s be the ones who find infinity in a grain of sand, and eternity in a wildflower.

    Because when we know we are enough, we have enough, we do enough – that’s when we truly begin to live.

    A THOUGHT EXERCISE:

    Make a practice of writing your list of enough.

    Not could it be 10x better – but does it feel in your heart like enough?

    * Family — Enough

    * Friends — Enough

    * Home — Enough

    * Work — Enough

    * Partner — Enough

    * Mentors — Enough

    * Memories — Enough

    * Blessings — Enough

    * Recognition — Enough

    * Opportunities — Enough

    * Financial independence — Enough

  • cycle girlie

    On metamorphosis and menstrual cycles and a magic little trick (a GIFT, for YOU!) to add the phases of your cycle to your calendar and sync to your work and life.

    As I woke up on Monday morning I found myself having transformed into a pile of mush. Heart, lungs, eyes, shin bones floating in goo.

    I wanted to concurrently crawl out of my skin, hide inside a shell, and for my life just to feel normal, as it does for a few glimpses from time to time.

    But that’s not the path I chose. I am not one to cling fondly to the past or go out of my way for things to stay the same. I body slam myself at every chance I get to evolve and then wonder innocently doe-eyed why my self and my life are changing again.

    A constant cycle of falling apart and coming together again, of losing my way and walking myself back home. Right alongside 8 billion other people like a knot of snakes shedding their skins over and over again.

    The nature of life is to metamorphose repeatedly.

    Except that the way humans do it is that we look marginally the same on the outside while turning into an existential puddle of goo on the inside until naturally, our insides restructure themselves and a new version, only slightly distinct but somehow also completely new remarkably walks around in the same body as before.

    Some of our internal metamorphoses take years. Sometimes we move from caterpillar to mush to butterfly in just one day. Midwifing ourselves through a process of existing, breaking, and re-creating. An endless cycle of reinvention.

    That’s what I woke up to on Monday morning.

    Then there are other cycles.

    As a woman, I have a monthly cycle where blood pools and then drips from between my legs. It is a metamorphosis of another kind.

    In my early twenties, I discovered a love for my monthly cycles. In my early thirties, I understood them.

    Desperate, ashamed, and stoic after ending an unwanted pregnancy with an abrupt and painful medical pill I was coerced into getting a copper IUD by my boyfriend and my doctor.

    For one and a half years I contended with painful periods, dissociation, spotting at odd times and constant brain fog.

    With despair and frustration, I researched and educated myself. Books upon books on women, family planning, menstrual cycles and birth control piled up on my bedside table.

    Until one day I had enough and knew enough and went to get it taken out.

    The doctor asked me “Are you sure you want it out?” with judgement in her tone.

    “Yes. It’s ruining my life.” I replied adamantly.

    “What are you planning to use for birth control instead?” Her eyebrows raised.

    “I’m going to track my cycle.” I smiled, confident that I knew how, angry that I did not know sooner, furious that this isn’t the first thing a woman is taught.

    “I think you should stick to the IUD” she leant back looking at me.

    “Do you even know how IUDs work?” I snarked back incredulously.

    “Well, they stop the sperm from entering the egg.”

    “How do they do that?”

    “We don’t know exactly how, we just know that it works.”

    I was burning inside.

    “We do know how. What happens is that you put a foreign object inside a woman’s most delicate parts that creates an inflammation inside her so great that it stops her from being able to conceive. Why do I know that, and you don’t?”

    A nurse was called over who took me to another room and removed the offensive item in minutes.

    The one book that taught me how to track my cervical fluid and temperature and the position of my cervix so I would only get pregnant if and when I wanted to was What Every Woman Needs to Know About Fertility: Your Guide to Fertility Awareness to Plan or Avoid Pregnancy.

    It still seems to be a taboo topic. Sources of information for books or details online are almost negligible. Like, wow, if women take full ownership over their bodies, all religious and corporate systems will cease to exist, global power structures will shift in some seismic way, and the entire world will collapse.

    If the world is that fragile, we have bigger issues at hand.

    Two other favourite books were “The Woman Code” and “In The Flo” by Alisa Vitti. Both books are about how to sync your life with your menstrual cycle to optimize your health, wellness, and your career.

    Running a woman-centric business as a woman, I was fascinated with the idea that I could structure my work around my inner cycles.

    Hungry for ways to sync my tasks with my cycle and energy levels I tried many apps including Flo and Kindara to integrate cycle awareness into managing my life but none of them fit my flow.

    I depend on my iCal calendar and my physical Plannher to organise and execute my work, life and days. So, with the help of a friend, I made up a calendar based on the tips of the two books.

    Today, I am going to share it with you.

    It’s customisable, so anyone can use it to sync their life with their menstrual cycle. This adds another layer of awareness to your cycle and helps you create a more balanced and harmonious relationship with your body in conjunction with your work life.

    Add the phases of your cycle to your calendar to sync with your work life.

    Here is what you do:

    • Go to your calendar. Create a new calendar by clicking the “+” sign and the “Create calendar” option. Name it something like “My Cycle.”
    • Download the calendar from this link. It is formatted .ics, so it will be easy to add to any calendar.
    • Open your calendar application. This could be Google Calendar, Apple Calendar, or any other calendar app that supports ICS imports.

     

    iCal/Apple Calendar does it automatically, Google Calendar, like this:

    • In Google Calendar, click “Settings” at the bottom of the side menu and then click on the “Import & export” tab.
    • Under “Import,” click “Select the file from your computer” and choose the ICS file you downloaded from this article. Select your new Google Calendar that you named “My cycle” or something similar.
    • Click “Import” to import the events from the ICS file into your selected calendar.

    FINALLY! Modify the first four event details to customize to YOUR OWN CYCLE!

    Menstrual information:

    1. Calculate the total of your cycle length and the total of each phase.

    2. Change the calendar in sync with your last menstruation date.

    3. Modify your cycle length in each event (the calendar standard is 28 days but my cycle length is more like 33 days).

    4. Edit each phase duration, and adapt it to your reality (make sure it doesn’t exceed the total length of your cycle)

    Enjoy!

    Vienda ♥

     

    P.S. An overview pulled from the books I recommended above:

    Menstrual Phase

    This is a time for rest and renewal. The main recommendations include:

    • Getting plenty of rest and sleep.
    • Avoiding intense physical exercise.
    • Eating nutrient-dense, warm, and comforting foods.
    • Drinking warm fluids, such as herbal teas, to promote circulation and hydration.
    • Taking magnesium supplements to reduce cramps and headaches.

    Professional recommendations:

    • Take time off if possible, or schedule light work or activities during this phase.
    • Use this time to reflect, plan, and set intentions for the upcoming cycle.
    • Practice self-care activities like taking a relaxing bath or receiving a massage.

    Nutrition and shopping list:

    • Focus on warm, comforting, and nutrient-dense foods such as soups, stews, and bone broth.
    • Incorporate iron-rich foods such as red meat, poultry, beans, and leafy greens to support blood loss during menstruation.
    • Shop for ingredients like grass-fed beef, dark leafy greens, lentils, and organic chicken or turkey.

     

    Follicular Phase

    This is a time for renewal and creativity. The main recommendations include:

    • Engaging in moderate physical exercise, such as walking, yoga, or dancing.
    • Eating light and fresh foods, such as salads and smoothies, to support detoxification.
    • Increasing intake of omega-3 fatty acids and other nutrients to support hormone production.
    • Practising creative activities, such as painting, writing, or singing.

    Professional recommendations:

    • Take on new projects or activities that require creativity and innovation.
    • Network and attend social events to build new connections.
    • Focus on professional development, such as attending workshops or taking courses.

    Nutrition:

    • Focus on fresh, light, and detoxifying foods such as green salads, smoothies, and juices.
    • Incorporate foods rich in vitamin B6, such as bananas, nuts, and seeds, to support hormone production.
    • Shop for ingredients like spinach, kale, avocados, chia seeds, and milk.

     

    Ovulatory Phase

    This is a time for connection and expression. The main recommendations include:

    • Engaging in more vigorous physical exercise, such as running or strength training.
    • Eating foods that support blood sugar balance, such as complex carbohydrates and proteins.
    • Practicing self-care and connecting with others.
    • Taking steps to reduce stress and promote relaxation.

    Professional recommendation:

    • Schedule important meetings or presentations during this phase, as communication skills and confidence are heightened.
    • Collaborate with others on projects and tasks.
    • Attend industry events and conferences to build professional connections.

    Nutrition and shopping list:

    • Focus on foods that support blood sugar balance, such as complex carbohydrates and proteins to promote sustained energy.
    • Incorporate foods rich in omega-3 fatty acids, such as salmon and walnuts, to support hormone production and reduce inflammation.
    • Shop for ingredients like sweet potatoes, quinoa, salmon, walnuts, and Greek yoghurt.

     

    Luteal Phase

    This is a time for reflection and preparation. The main recommendations include:

    • Engaging in gentle exercises, such as yoga or stretching
    • Eating foods that support hormonal balance, such as leafy greens, legumes, and healthy fats.
    • Reducing intake of caffeine, sugar, and alcohol to reduce PMS symptoms.
    • Practising self-care and stress management techniques.

    Professional recommendations:

    • Prioritize tasks and projects to ensure completion before the next cycle begins.
    • Use this phase for planning and organization, such as reviewing goals and making action plans.
    • Practice self-care activities and stress management techniques to reduce PMS symptoms and promote well-being.

    Nutrition and Shopping list:

    • Focus on foods that support hormonal balance, such as leafy greens, legumes, and healthy fats to reduce PMS symptoms.
    • Incorporate foods rich in magnesium, such as dark chocolate, nuts, and seeds, to reduce cramps and headaches.
    • Shop for ingredients like broccoli, chickpeas, pumpkin seeds, dark chocolate, and coconut oil.
  • I don’t care

    A life-long lesson on detachment as taught to me by an Indian guru when I was 12 years old and the story of my very first own grown-up friend.

    When I was 11 my mum dragged me to one of her ‘new age’ events.

    “New Age” was a movement that started in the late 1980s characterised by an emphasis on the holistic view of body and mind, alternative (or complementary) medicines, personal growth therapies, and a loose mix of theosophy, ecology, oriental mysticism, and a belief in the dawning of an astrological age of peace and harmony. Idk what we call that now but in my bubble it’s “mainstream”.

    From my childish memory, I can’t remember if she was at a weekend workshop to learn how to play gongs, if it was about Buddhism or neurolinguistic programming but what I do remember was that the lady who was hosting the event had a beautiful garden with fragrant Jasmine abundantly throwing itself off balconies and big purple flowers attached to vibrant green tendrils cascading onto the lawn.

    I remember a young woman french-braiding my hair during breaks and adorning each cross-section with tiny white Jasmin stars. I remember an elderly man who took a particular interest in me and in those two days taught me how to read palms after he read mine.

    He told me that I would never break a bone, run out of money, or lack in lovers. He was right.

    I lapped up the attention. Like all children I craved to be seen, heard, witnessed, and acknowledged but presence and attention were not something readily available in my household.

    Sometimes I try to remember why but all I remember was that my single mum was always too busy, too harried, and too stressed to notice me for long. Now I recognise that she was likely suffering from anxiety, amongst other things.

    So when this man came along — an adult who had time for me, who was interested in me, and wanted to talk to me about the world, and the future and the possibilities of life — I was enchanted.

    He was old, with white hair and deep lines that crinkled deeper when he smiled and introduced himself as Donald Ingram Smith. I used his full name every time I spoke of or to him from that day on.

    He was my very first own grown-up friend.

    In a past life, Donald told me, he was a famous reporter and travelled the world. Then, he became the ghostwriter, autobiographer and close associate of one of the world’s most recognised gurus, Krishnamurti.

    My mother allowed the friendship. She was charmed by his outward-facing success with dozens of book titles penned under his name and thought he would be a good influence for me.

    One day when I was 12 he invited me to go to a 7-day “new age” festival with him. Krishnamurti would be giving a talk and he thought I might like to listen to him speak. I gleefully begged my mum to go until she agreed.

    In my childish memory, I don’t remember much of the talk.

    I remember that the festival seemed huge with thousands of people everywhere. I remember the woman vomiting in the toilet, eyes bulging out of her head and croaking “What are you looking at?” as she caught my innocent stare. I remember sleeping in a tent by myself next to Donald’s tent and going to the Hare Krishna’s for most of our meals where food piled high, a four-course meal, on every plate. I remember meeting a boy a year older than me who took me to the circus tent, told me he liked me and planted a kiss on my astonished mouth. I remember being left to my own devices for much of the time and going to every dancing workshop that I could find while Donald went and did his grown-up things.

    On the last day of the festival when Krishnamurti gave his talk hundreds of people gathered under an enormous marquee and sat on the grass on top of sarongs and shawls everyone brought along. Donald Ingram Smith sat to my right and made sure I could see as Krishnamurti giggled and joked with his audience from where he sat cross-legged wrapped in a lungi on the stage.

    “Do you want to know my secret?” he asked.

    This is the only part of that talk I remember and have held close for all of my life.

    “I don’t care.”

    “I’ve no problem because I don’t mind what happens… I don’t mind if I fail or succeed, I don’t mind if I have money or not money… I have no problem because I don’t demand anything from anybody, or life. I wonder if you understand this…”

    “I don’t mind what happens.”

    “That is the essence of inner freedom. It is a timeless spiritual truth: release attachment to outcomes, and — deep inside yourself — you’ll feel good no matter what.”

    I left that festival with a seed planted deep inside my mind.

    Donald Ingram Smith remained my friend.

    As I entered a more tumultuous teenage phase I lost touch with him which I recovered in my late teens. A friendship that became mostly forged in short phone calls where I updated him on my immature choices and life views and he offered generous guidance and hearty laughter on the other end of the line, as his ageing body became frail.

    When I was 19 I received a phone call stating that he was dying.

    I called him one last time and he told me of his graceful exit plan.

    He told me that he was ready to go and that he was grateful for his long and rich life and the short years he was able to share with me. He told me to keep reading and to keep learning and to choose always love. Finally, he told me to trust my life. That it was going to take me exactly where needed to go. And that he loved me.

    Weeks later I heard that he stopped eating and drinking in the final days before his death, as he told me would, to encourage his body with a rapid and clean journey out of this life, and his spirit the agency to pass into its next carnation.

    To mourn him is to celebrate the self-belief he awoke in me, the only tender love that I knew from a man at that time and the seeds he planted in a young girl that has grown into a forest of resilience, wisdom, and compassion, shaping the very essence of who I am today, an eternal testament to the mark he left on me.

  • you’re right

    “Your conclusion that there isn’t enough of something—whether it is enough land, or money, or clarity—stems from you learning, without meaning to, a vibration that holds you apart from what you want.” — Abraham Hicks

    A few years ago I had a boyfriend who was the most frugal, ungenerous man I have ever met. He would always choose the cheapest options in the supermarket, suggest low-to-no-budget dates and if we did go to dinner he would meticulously calculate the total and then split it with me. Generally, he hesitated to offer any gesture that might cost him financially.

    He was so cheap that everything we did felt small, suffocating and limited.

    During the four years of our relationship, our financial situations shifted. I met him in the second year of my business when I was barely making enough to get by but by the end of the four years, I outearned him by almost double.

    The difference between him and I was that I did the work.


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    He had a ‘lack’ mentality. So he scrimped and calculated and pinched.

    I was familiar with this type of thinking. I also had been brought up to believe that there is never enough. But I didn’t like the way it made me feel.

    I wanted to feel expansive. Abundant. Free.

    I wanted to feel like money was never going to stop me from living a good life.

    The difference between having a lack mentality and an abundance mentality?

    Perception.
    Resulting in your life experience.
    Perception is our belief in what is true.
    Our experiences are the tangible results of what we believe.

    Often, I hear or read conversations based on beliefs that there is not enough in the world:

    • “There aren’t enough good jobs to go around.”
    • “We are running out of natural resources. Water, oil…”
    • “There’s not enough money for everyone to be wealthy.”
    • “There isn’t enough food to feed all the people on the planet.”
    • “The economy is on a constant downturn. No one can thrive with this.”

       

    After years (and years and years) of studying human behaviour and psychology, I’ve come to understand one straightforward concept: whatever we believe, is true for us. Our beliefs dictate the experience we have of the world.

    Here’s another perspective:

    • It’s estimated that we have over 8 billion people in the world. As a small example, the world military expenditure is estimated at over 1,700 billion USD, to give you a tiny idea proportionally on how much money there is in the world. So yeah: There is more than enough money for everyone in the world. Our beautiful lesson to learn here is how to get into that stream of delightful money, by looking at our beliefs and deciding to change them.
    • We all have different interests and passions. Some people love to write. Some people love to invent. Some people love to sing, to build, and some people love math. One person’s menial job is another person’s dream. This is not true for 100% of jobs, sure; but with eight billion very different people living on this planet, you’d be surprised at what different people enjoy, and consider a good job.
    • We can all thrive, despite whatever the economy is supposedly doing. Some of the biggest, most successful brands and businesses came from a time when they were challenged. It’s those limitations that add fuel to genius and result in incredible success.
    • Hunger is caused by poverty and inequality, not scarcity. For the past two decades, global food production has increased faster than the global population growth rate. The world already produces more than 1½ times enough food to feed everyone on the planet. That’s enough to feed 10 billion people, the population peak we expect by 2050.
    • Or as Prof. Steve Horwitz says “There are economic reasons why we will never run out of many resources. In a free market system, prices signal scarcity. So as a resource becomes more scarce, it becomes more expensive, which incentivizes people to use less of it and develop new alternatives, or to find new reserves of that resource that were previously unknown or unprofitable. We have seen throughout history that the human mind’s ability to innovate, coupled with a free market economic system, is an unlimited resource that can overcome the limitations we perceive with natural resources.”

    Let’s circle back to my ex-boyfriend. He was a middle-class man, with a helicopter licence and a passion for law enforcement and access to endless opportunities. But he had a deeply ingrained lack belief that stemmed from his childhood upbringing and father’s role modelling.

    Although he could easily make more money than the average person, he still felt that he never had enough money to afford even the simplest of things.

    The more lack he felt, the more life affirmed his belief that there was not enough money.

    There’s a psychological term for this exact thing.

    It’s called our reticular activating system.

    It acts as the library of our belief system. These beliefs affect our perception of thoughts. Then our perceptions control how we feel about one subject. Or another.

    His reticular activating system caused him to seek out experiences that support his belief that there isn’t enough.

    And so suddenly he would be hit with a huge unexpected bill. Or make a critical decision in an investment, losing large sums of money. Or his well-paying job became redundant.

    Because this is how the reticular activating system works.

    This doesn’t only apply to finances. It applies to every area of life: Relationships, health, happiness. Everything you experience in life is affected by what you believe is true. (Your reticular activating system.) Your beliefs create your perceptions, and vice versa.

    When you believe that there is not enough of what you want there won’t be. Because you can’t ask for something that you don’t believe exists, is possible, or is true for you.

    You have to change the integral belief first, and foremost, and then start calling in what you want.

    How?

    It’s easy.

    Start looking for and seeking out evidence to support the belief that you want. Find research that supports the sentiment there is more than enough…money, jobs, natural resources, etc.

    In this way, you can break your lack mentality by choosing a new perception, a new stream of thoughts on any topic.

    This is called reframing in psychology. it works the same way. When you start to believe something new, your reticular activating system starts to take effect and produce those beliefs as tangible, practical results and experiences in life.


    I’d love to help you re-write the economic rules you have set for yourself.

    Join me for her wealth, now. Spaces are limited.


    It’s 100% up to you what you choose to believe. You get to design your life any way you want. If you want to believe in lack. Do it! May you have a powerful, positive change in the world through your beliefs. If you want to believe in abundance. Awesome! And may you have a fulfilling and enchanting positive impact on the world through your beliefs.

  • wealth, her way (your way)

    The other day a friend and I met up for dinner and we talked a lot about financial independence and how important it is to be financially independent to feel well, to have good self-esteem, and to be able to make choices that benefit all.

    Over several 4-bites-per-serve sized seafood mains that should have been tapas, shared out equally, and glasses of white wine from the vineyard we looked out on, we relished our momentary opulence.

    Ultimately, we agreed, that what we all want is to feel secure, circulate wealth, enjoy our lives and do good.

    The past six months have brought about some pretty drastic changes across the globe. Costs of living heightened, wages barely increased, some people lost jobs and it all felt kind of extreme and demeaning and unfair.

    Just as we had come out from under a domino of disasters, did we need another reason to feel squeezed in our lives?

    No.

    But.

    We get to do some really cool shit with money.

    We get to live in homes with running water and heating or cooling respectively to our needs. We get to choose the foods that we like grown under the conditions of our preference. We get to go to places and see art under soft lighting or artists under spotlights sweating for their craft. We get to be those artists graciously demanding to be seen by paying for the tools required. We get to go places and have adventures and meet people who like the things we like. We get to walk down mostly safe streets and drive down mostly asphalted roads and buy steaming cups of coffee and bagels or doughnuts or little energy balls made of dates and coconut…

    All those simple delights require some kind of exchange.

    The exchange of currency.

    Money.

    Ultimately it’s an imperfect system. Like every other system in the world.

    We can either feel resentment and bitterness around its deficiencies and cringe and complain about the day-to-day of our lives and the necessity to exist in this imperfect system to support ourselves. But that isn’t going to make life any better or easier.

    Or…

    We can accept that change is small and incremental. That change happens slowly and then eventually hopefully all at once. That what we can do, while we chip away at creating a better future, is learn how to play the current game.

    On our terms. Our way.

    As women, especially.

    We need to learn how to play the game of money.

    Whenever I speak to women about money three big stakes come up:

    1. Feeling WORTHY and able to hold on to/manage/be good custodians of larger sums of money
    2. Being able to ASK FOR and RECEIVE the amount of money they want/need/are worthy of, whether in a salary or in a business where they are selling products and services.
    3. How they FEEL about money, the two ends of the spectrum being either shying away from talking about and looking at your money/accounts — or being overly controlling, but either way feeling FEAR.

    I took this conversation to Instagram and asked:

    WHAT IS YOUR MOST SPECIFIC MONEY CHALLENGE YOU WOULD LIKE TO CHANGE?

    There were many many many good answers but these were the most common:

    Sitting on the edge of the ocean in the sand on the weekend I watch a little hermit crab scurry past on its 10 little legs moving sideways over tiny sand dunes. He stops. Hesitating many times. Circling me. Searching.

    I see him find a shell. A tusk-shaped spiral a little bigger than his own. He turns it around. Waddles past several times. Looks inside. Stops, again.

    A few moments later that little crab crawls out of his shell, naked and alone, without protection or a home. So vulnerable. Anything could happen.

    He circles his old shell a few times. Stops. Then scurries to the new one and hides inside. Slowly, slowly those 10 little legs reappear. Sideways, he’s off again.

    I’ve never seen a hermit crab change shells before. It reminds me of growth. And those terrifying moments of complete defenselessness, unprotected and alone. I find myself in that strangely vulnerable place again.

    Being self-employed and responsible for 100%  of my income I started thinking about all the ways this could all go wrong. Old habitual thought patterns arose.

    Expansion is always preceded by contraction.

    I find myself in this place, every time I take a leap and grow. First comes the inner struggle. Then comes the discomfort. Then the awareness and the willingness to change. Followed by results.

    I’ve been doing this process every year or so since 2014. 10 years of educating myself about finances means I know a thing or two.

    I’d like to share it all with you.

    her wealth

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    & a community of women from around the world, just like you.

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  • not ready

    Don’t hold back, waiting to be ready. It will never arrive.

    When I was 15 I went on a long overseas trip for the first time entirely on my own. I had signed up to be a foreign exchange student in the States for one year. I boarded the plane snotty-nosed and big, red eyes rimmed with tears and a knot in my stomach.

    I was not ready.

    That year ended up being the happiest time of my life so far and formed my independence and sense of self in an immeasurable way.

    When I was 23 I attended my first-ever electronic music festival. I was resistant and didn’t want to go and thought it would be full of weirdos and absolutely, definitely not for me. My boyfriend at the time promised me we would leave after 1 day if I truly hated it.

    I was not ready.

    At that music festival, I got to know the producers of the festival and other producers of other music festivals and all sorts of fascinating, inspiring, incredible people that I admired who hired me based on my personality and skills and ended up making music festivals my career for 5 years.

    When I was 28 I wrote my first few blog posts. One day I decided to share one on Facebook. I was shaking and started to get all hot and prickly inside as my finger hovered over the ‘post’ button. I took a deep breath, clicked the button and then quickly closed the computer, terrified of what people would say and walked away.

    I was not ready.

    After that, it became easier and easier to share and to post and to write and after 2 years of writing and sharing, I had a popular blog with over 10,000 readers every month.

    When I was 30 I desperately wanted to turn my blog into a business. I came across a course that promised me all the answers and I thought about whether to take it or not for an entire month. 10 minutes before enrolment closed for the year, sweating with fear I assembled all my resources and courage and paid the $2,000 even though it made me feel nauseous.

    I was not ready.

    That investment led me to create a business where I support, mentor and teach people in areas of life that I am educated and experienced in. It has allowed me to do work in alignment with my values and has supported me on every level, especially financially over the past (almost) 11 years.

    When I was 33 I bought a van to travel along the East Coast of Australia. I didn’t know anything about cars (I still don’t) or how to make my #vanlife fantasy reality but I pooled all my resources together and followed my heart, even though…

    I was not ready.

    Two weeks later my van blew up, but I fell in love and my entire life trajectory changed in the most wonderful and unexpected ways, that I am so grateful for today.

    When I was 36, heartbroken, sick, confused and torn apart, I booked a flight from Canada to a town in Mexico that I had never heard of, knew no one in, and arrived there the next day with a suitcase filled with hope.

    I was not ready.

    That town became my home for two years where I tended to my heart, healed and grew. It was a safe container that held me in tender ways nowhere else had before and gave me everything I didn’t even know I needed.

    When I was 38 I wanted to bring to the world an undated planner for women based on a design I used for the past 5 years. I spent an entire year trying to find someone who could produce my idea in an ethical and environmentally conscious way. Disheartened, after 100s of enquiries were sent, I gave up.

    I was not ready.

    One day a publishing house in Bulgaria that was run by a small family team replied and said they would love to help fulfil my dream. I moved to the UK to be closer to production and ship those books out myself. In June 2020 Plannher was born. Since then 1,200 Plannhers have been sent around the world. I have 300 left.

    A few months ago I decided to go to a place I had never been to before. Africa. I was scared sad and uncertain about my decision.

    I was not ready.

    The day I left for Africa I let thick tears roll down my cheeks while sitting on the train to the airport. I went anyway. It gave me exactly what I needed: a contrast so strong and difficult that it gave me the deepest appreciation for the life I have. Now, I am so excited to make the most of it.

    I’ve noticed something interesting…

    The very best things that have happened to me were the things I did when I wasn’t ready. The things that shook me and tore at me and made me feel the biggest feelings and pushed me and stretched me and scared me and lit a flame of hope in my heart and big dreams in my imagination…

    Those things gave me the most, beyond my wildest dreams, even though…

    I was not ready.

    Don’t hold back, waiting to be ready. It will never arrive.

    Even if you’re not ready.

     

    A follow-up to this was written a couple of months after the release of ‘not ready’ titled ‘not yet’. Read it here:

  • the rules of reinvention

    Reinventing yourself is about how you carry yourself through a season of becoming while bridging the gap between fear and creating or doing what you’re called to.

    This morning I woke at 5.30 am — a time that I would much rather be sleeping peacefully, unlike some of those overachieving insta-people who like to boast about their 6 am ice baths — to meditate on a question that has been haunting me recently.

    What is next?

    I nuzzled in under the covers, having asked the universe for guidance and assistance and allowed the waves of connection to Source/Goddess/Energy roll through my body slowing down my breathing, smoothing over my nervous system.

    Slowly, softly, answers emerge.

    You are on your path.
    The next thing will come.
    Just not on your timeline.
    Be patient.

    It’s annoying. I want to know now. I’m in a self-inflicted cycle of uncertainty and my entire Being is trying to escape the discomfort of that.

    I have had to make peace with the fact that my life journey and path as a human is centred around reinvention. To not judge myself harshly for it. To softly acknowledge and accept it. To even celebrate it. One of the ways I’ve been able to do so is to understand it.

    If you’ve been journeying alongside me for a while, you will know I’m a master at reinvention.

    Life took me on an incredible healing journey in my early 20s while I was studying psychology and experimenting with various things. Then, struggling with the broad systematic approach to individual mental health, decided I didn’t want to become a psychologist. Instead, an opportunity to work as a contractor for music festivals arose and I spent 5 years sent to far-flung corners of the earth acting as an artist coordinator for large-scale events. It was a wonderful wild time. Soon, that life became tiring and no longer supported my growth so I stopped for a year and worked as an event coordinator for a dance school in London before heading to India and deepening my spiritual journey there. During this time I realised that our world didn’t have moulds that I could fit and that I’d have to create my own. Inspired by the ethical organic textile industry I created a small conscious clothing label called ‘etica & ella’ but quickly realised that while I had lots of creative ideas I knew nothing about marketing or running a business and disliked having to manage lots of stock. When that idea didn’t work I felt like a failure. It hurt my ego for two years during which I lived in Sydney and worked as a business manager for a small marketing firm, gathering as much knowledge and experience as I could to start my own business. Alongside that, I started a blog, which became the platform for the work that has supported me across the past decade. During the first few years, I travelled the most: a month in Portugal, three months in Amsterdam, four months across Central America, six months in the States, five months in London, four months in India, almost a year in Australia, nine months in New Zealand, six months travelling across south-east Asia. Then things slowed down. My partner and I at the time moved to Canada, where he was from. We tried to do the ‘settle down’ and ‘buy a house’ thing, but he and the life he was offering was not for me so I left. I moved to Mexico for two years. All the while, growing and teaching and offering my work to the world through my online business. With the addition of my stationary brand Plannher, I decided to come back to the Western world for a while to support the growth of that. And then the global panini happened. I had no choice but to stay and made the seaside town of Brighton in the UK my home for 18 months until I decided the winters were too cold for me and swapped it for Mallorca which was beautiful but confining, and returned to the UK five months ago. Since then, I have moved five times, trying to figure out what corner of the universe I belong in.

    That’s a lot of iterations of myself and the life I have lived. I have had to reinvent myself and recreate my perception of the world at every corner.

    I’m at these crossroads. I feel like I need to choose between 3 lives.

    1. The online entrepreneur life, selling programs and products and refining my sales funnels. 2. The corporate career life, getting a job with a company that aligns with my values. 3. Becoming a wayfarer, chasing the summer and beach life at low costs in other countries.

    As I feel in and consider each option, none delight me.

    I’m in a season of life where I’m considering my future. Who do I want to be? What kind of life do I want to have? What am I setting myself up for?

    I want it all. I want a beautiful home in Forest Row where I live right now. I want to teach and write and make art. I want a sense of community and belonging. I want to spend months at a time on wild unkempt beaches in less civilised places.

    My whimsical 20s have come and gone. What am I building the foundation for into my wise woman years?

    Maybe they’re questions I don’t need answers for but they are something I feel to consider now.

    I have a financially successful online business doing and creating things I love (alongside the less-loved administrative side of things) that’s offered me incredible location and financial freedom but it’s been increasingly lonely and the mental health impact of that is something I can no longer ignore.

    The corporate career world baffles me. I have this enormous skill set and range of experience that doesn’t fit into any of the boxes and when I look at the expectations of time and input vs wages… 36 hours per week in an office for £16 an hour! It’s a joke. My friends who know this world well tell me it is no more stable and secure than working for yourself.

    The drifting summer and sea-chasing life is one I adore, but it has limitations too. I enjoy it to the extent that I feel invested and involved in a place. I need to be anchored into my environment to feel at peace and unified with it. Community and connection are as important in this context as any other.

    Plus: I am tired of the pseudo-spiritual digital nomads that are all noise and little substance. They are not my people.

    All I have is questions and no answers at this point but it’s the discovery journey that I find brings the most unexpected solutions.

    What I do know is that all change in the universe is cyclical rather than linear as demonstrated by the highly scientific paradigm known as yin yang or polarity. Or ‘the medicine of opposites’ as I like to call it.

    Reinventing yourself is about how you carry yourself through a season of becoming while bridging the gap between fear and creating or doing what you’re called to.

    It is a balancing act between waiting to be shown and choosing your destination. And then finding the way there — weaving between working with energetics and taking action — to create the foundations and integrate with practical measures to witness the changes.

    If there’s one thing I know about reinvention, it’s this:

    Don’t rush life. Don’t chase superficial ideas of success over inner contentment and satisfaction. Don’t force yourself to do things for external validation. Too often people settle for things that don’t satisfy their wants and needs. Stop looking for the next new thing. Let the things meant for you find you. Your soul already knows and will guide you on your path if you get out of your way.

    When I began ruminating more deeply on ‘what is next?’ during a long walk in the woods this weekend I decided to share a little piece of those thoughts on Instagram. The conversations that ensured — the most potent parts of which I shared and saved in the highlights under ‘crossroads’ — were astounding. So many women are struggling.

    This world was not made for us. Or we were not made for this world.

    We don’t live life in a straight line.

    Life is a spiral: a series of cycles through which we are learning and growing.

    Renew is a practical insight offering practices and ways to navigate this cycle. A 5-part digital video and audio program that takes you through the renewal cycle. A gift for paid Substack subscribers.

    There are 5 phases to the renewal cycle.

    1. FLOW
    2. SPACE
    3. EDIT
    4. AWAKEN
    5. EXPAND

    The past few years have left an after-shock reverberating through us. The stress of not knowing what was happening and nothing making sense left most of us reeling and grappling for new coping habits.

    Now, at times we feel vulnerable, unsteady, stripped of our prior confidence and bravado. Not only in ourselves but in the world we live in. And yet… we know…

    It’s time.

    For a reset… to reinvent ourselves and our approach.

    We have an opportunity to recreate ourselves and our lives based on a whole new set of rules and values. We’ve grown matured, wisened, become more compassionate, de-armoured, sat with our trauma and felt it all so deeply.

    Renew is about becoming radically aligned with what gives you pleasure and makes you come alive in your life and the world. It is the process of teasing out what is most important for you.

    Download it here.

    Enjoy!

  • wave after wave after wave…

    how to pull yourself out of depression, grief and other dark places…

    Wave after wave it hits. The feeling of slipping beneath the surface. It can feel like no amount of struggle lessens the power of those waves. Wave after wave after wave after wave. No reprieve, no relief, no peace. you’re just being pummeled by these waves of emotions bigger than a human body can contain. Grief, depression, long anxiety…

    Then with time, the waves are still there, but each wave is accompanied by several minutes of peace before the next wave. A little more time to breathe and be. The desperate sense of slipping under is replaced by a feeling of still being submerged, but no longer having to endure the grapple for a breath between each wave.

    Ultimately, the waves never go away. But the space of time in between each wave gets longer and longer. Eventually you go a whole day before another wave hits. Then a week. Then a month. Eventually it’s a whole year

    And maybe you feel a big wave of those familiar feelings that might haunt you on an anniversary of that loss, or the when you first started feeling this way before being okay for another year until another wave hits.

    Depression, grief and other dark places move through us like waves. When you have a really, really significant loss in your life it’s never over.

    You carry that with you forever. But the waves get farther and farther and farther apart as you grow and heal and grow into your new life. Being really honest about that is really comforting to know.

    And then in that new space that all that depression and grief has carved out of your soul opens up for beautiful things that weren’t available to you before

    Every single journey is different, but there are some life changes and circumstances that feel like a death of the life that you had, an identity, a future, a world view even.

    You don’t have to be okay. Until your ready. It takes as long as it takes to consolidate.

    Still… how to pull yourself out of depression, grief and other dark places?

    Life is a whole journey of meeting your edge again and again. That’s where, if you’re a person who wants to live, you start to ask yourself questions like, “Now, why am I so scared? What is it that I don’t want to see? Why can’t I go any further than this?” — Pema Chödrön

    I’ve always felt things very deeply. It’s a sensitivity that I cherish yet in the most difficult moments resist. This feeling of going under, head barely above the water, treading lightly, where everything hurts…

    There have been times in my life where I have fallen into a depression in response to the world, my experiences and and perceptions of it. One of those times has been recent. Life isn’t all good at all times. But the depth of feeling gives me a breadth of compassion that extends beyond the superficial and that’s where the beauty and true kindness lies.

    When I talk to my therapist about being depressed and not wanting to be anymore he says things like:

    “This is what you do. You try. You do everything in your power to feel better. At first these attempts may be feeble, seemingly pointless. You accept and love yourself for drinking water and eating nourishment that day, for talking to a friend for ten minutes, for taking that shower, for working out, whatever small accomplishment you managed. You stop comparing yourself to what everyone else is doing and love yourself for making an effort. You stop insisting you need to be a certain way and support and encourage yourself for whatever steps you can do, and you try to see beauty in it.”

    He is very pragmatic.

    The thing is, I can do all the ‘right’ things. I make my bed each morning and exercise and wash and eat well and take care of my emotions and my mind. I understand that these small and simple gestures are necessary and meaningful.

    Maybe I’m a high-functioning depressive. Maybe I’ve just learned to love myself enough to treat myself like I would a child taking myself through the motions of what I know is good for me even when I feel completely disconnected and apathetic to it

    Here is what actually helps me pull myself out of depression, grief and other dark places…

    Deeply engaging with nothing but what is present for me in each moment. It means focusing my full attention and being fully conscious of what I am doing each moment, like making my bed. That kind of focus leaves no room for the noise of internal dialogue and in that moment gives me a sense of stillness and peace.

    Allowing depression, grief and other dark emotional journeys to happen to me. When I am willing to see them as a gift, and allow them the space to move through me without resistance… When I feel them all the way through, even if sometimes they last for a year or more… At the other end they open up a space for something significant that wasn’t there before. That couldn’t have existed within me or my life prior to the painful inner journey.

    Noticing what in my life is causing this deep sense of loss and disconnection from life. This been a really interesting… I have been taking some time off work and unpacking, around hustle culture and productivity, toxic productivity and productivity addiction and worthiness being attached to busyness, and how all that is connected to money as well.

    I keep circling back to the fact that we live in a sick society that values superficial things which causes a disconnect.

    Illness in this society, physical or mental, they are not abnormalities. They are normal responses to an abnormal culture. This culture is abnormal when it comes to real human needs. And.. it is in the nature of the system to be abnormal, because if we had a society geared to meet human needs.. would we be destroying the Earth through climate change? Would we be putting an extra burden on certain minority people? Would we be selling people a lot of goods that they don’t need, and, in fact, are harmful for them? Would there be mass industries based on manufacturing, designing and mass-marketing toxic food to people?

    So we do all that for the sake of profit. That’s insanity. It is not insanity from the point of view of profit, but it is insanity from the point of view of human need. And so, in so many ways this culture denies and even runs against counter to human needs. When you mentioned trauma.. given how important trauma is in human life and what an impact it has.. why have we ignored it for so long? Because that denial of reality is built in into this system. It keeps the system alive. So it is not a mistake, it is a design issue. Not that anybody consciously designed it, but that’s just how the system survives.” — Gabor Maté

    I’ve been on a journey of trying to integrate a way of living that is inclusive to meeting my human emotional, spiritual and physical needs alongside supporting myself financially.

    I’ve had to face my fear of running out of money and replacing it with the reality that I am capable of earning more money whenever I want to, or need to and that I will always be supported in my endeavours. That I don’t have to compromise my needs and values for money.

    At times I may choose not to exercise my capacity to makes money. I may that it’s not my priority for periods of time and that is okay. And that whenever I want to turn on the money faucet, I have that capacity.

    Understanding that has been a huge revelatory attitude shift and so empowering, and something that spills over into other areas of life, not just financial, that realisation that “If I really want to or need to, I can. There’s always a way.”

    Taking uncomfortable and unconventional risks. I just left a beautiful island in the Mediterranean and a cute 1-bedroom flat overlooking the sea for a greyer, colder country. Intellectually it makes no sense I had a good life in Mallorca but my entire body couldn’t settle there. I was always anxious. I couldn’t relax. I kept asking the universe in my personal form of prayer to show me where I needed to be. Then at the start of the year a whole domino effect of events guided me to leave the island and return to the United Kingdom. I could have ignored the signs but I chose to listen and take that risk even though it makes no sense. It’s still to early to tell but I already feel much more at peace, safe and see the dials of momentum and opportunities ticking up for me in a whole new way.

    Let it happen.

    Let the depression, grief and other dark feelings swallow you whole and chew you up and spit you out.

    Because on the other side of this is always a new version of you a life that wants to be lived. New things that yearn for your love.

    You can’t get to them without going through it all.

    This is the art of life.