Here we are again. I am leaning over my laptop on my bed, sheets and pillows strewn about, listening to the soporific sound of the ocean crash onto the rocks a few arm-lengths away from me as I write to you today.
Since my recent admission that the pretty little town I’ve called home for the past year never really felt like home, many things have changed. The feeling I had of choking on an energetic oppression has gone. It has been replaced by a feeling that anything is possible. A feeling that I crave when I don’t have it. I like living and manifesting, from this in-between space. With the firm knowledge that we never arrive at an endpoint, I am comfortable to find myself in this sweet limbo.
I received hundreds of notes from folk sharing their own versions of a similar experience. Of being in places that just didn’t suit and having to contract and fold yourselves many times over just to fit. Of finally leaving, or still not yet having the courage to leave, even though you want to.
I also received a few notes from people disappointed by my words and experiences. Projecting their own personal frustration onto what I so vulnerably and publicly share. And that’s ok. Sometimes my self-expression and self-prioritization disappoint people. I adamantly hold the belief that the only person responsible for my happiness is me. Other people are off the hook, even if they feel disappointed. Knowing this, perhaps they will devote themselves to their own happiness, too.
I’ve spent much of the past two weeks asking myself a seemingly simple question. “What is it that I actually, really want?”
It’s a question that I often ask my own clients, and that I have always struggled to answer myself. I have this instinctual fear that if I answer it too specifically it will limit me to only having this thing that I have expressed, and nothing else. Being so precise with my desires appears to be at odds with my need to feel free. I know clarity to be the pointer to having what I want, and yet I must bargain with it so there’s room for something else.
“This, or something better.” I always say.
As I look at this internal conflict a little deeper, sitting here writing to you today, I recognize that what lies at the core is a fear that I cannot have what I want. That it is not sensible. That I’m asking for too much.

“people will kill you over time. and they’ll kill you with tiny, harmless phrases like ‘be realistic’.” — Dylan Moran

For now, what I want is to move someplace else, to a place that can contain my heart and spirit. I want to create a home in a place that follows the same threads that my dreams are made up of. I want to travel, again, and more. I want to keep growing this transparent constellation of like-minded souls through my work and my words, with the intention to create a safe space for growth and truth as we navigate the leading edge of creating freedom and doing things a different way. I want to make beautiful things that help people feel and do, good. I want to keep playing amongst the stars with all of you.
Every day I work tirelessly inside of myself, dissolving my own fears and stretching my vision and ability to hold more of what is possible. I want to believe that I can continue to create a life filled with endless imagination. I know that to do so I need to change my viewpoint. Epigenetics, a modern study on how we can overcome our genetic predispositions and inherited fears, habits and beliefs — tells us that everything can be transformed — even our genes, by choosing our perception.
As I change my mind, literally, I also make choices that are better aligned with me.

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