Reflections — July 2018
It’s 10.33 am. I am sitting in a little cafe in a park across the street from my new London flat, with a milky tea by my side and a jumbled head full of words I want to neatly organise into this article for you. We are in the middle of July and I have a really strong desire to reflect upon the past 6 months, which up to now, feel like a whirlwind of colossal proportions. Like my friend, Claire said yesterday “2018: the year of the PLOT TWIST!”
On the Full Moon of the first day of 2018, I boarded a little silver jet plane to Mexico, loosely inspired by a dream that woke me with an orgasm. I have a few sacred laws I obey in my life, and one of them is this: follow what feels good. I remember crying tears of joy as I watched the jungle approaching closer and closer as we descended into the tropical landing strip that New Year morning. As soon as I arrived at my Airbnb I slipped off my Canadian winter clothes and ran to immerse myself in the North Pacific Ocean. There is nothing more life-giving and healing to me that immense bodies of salty water. I’ve come to realise that this is one of my life non-negotiables: living, dreaming, being by an ocean. One that I can swim in.
The 6 weeks I spent there, changed me. In the contrast, I became aware of how stifled I felt, how unlike myself I felt, how I had lost my joy, and that everyday life felt like a struggle. I felt wrong for the choices I had made in my life, unaccepted, under-appreciated. The pressure to fit into what others around me deemed as an acceptable way of life hung heavily over me, like a storm cloud shrouding my authentic expression.
I spent my days in Mexico living simply. I worked, deeply grateful for the business I have created, that allows me to support myself and be financially independent so that I can follow my authentic life path. I made deep friendships with women from all over the world who came together in this little bay of Bahia de Banderas following their own heart-led callings. I spent a night ushering baby turtles into the ocean and cried watching their flailing little bodies trustingly follow the bright light of the moon into the turbulent waters. I explored beaches and city street, and practised Spanish, and smiled at strangers. In amongst all of that, I knew things had to change. I had to come back home to myself. Somehow I had let myself stray too far.
March was spent back in Canada trying to come up with alternate solutions. And crying a lot. There’s one thing that I will always remember from a Behavioural Neuroscience class at uni where our recently-divorced male professor lamented on how women tend to process the ending of a relationship while they are still in the relationship, whereas men tend to be entirely unaware and then hit with the reality once the physical separation has taken place. I was mourning something I had not fully, consciously, realised was ending.
April I made my decision to take a flight to London and not come back. I worked through my biggest shame as I recognised that this is what had kept me in the situation I was in for too long and dove deeply into my inner world.
May was spent in London sulkily suppressing my grief and hiding from the world in my sweet friend’s spare room combined with sporadic spurts of intense socialising as I found my feet and focused on healing. I had one intention leading the way: I would wholly and only follow my heart and do what feels good. I would not make any decisions until I had an absolute persuasive intuitive inspiration to do something, and only then I would act.
One night deep in the woods I met up with a small group of women to share rituals under the Full Moon and regaled them my recent story of travels, love, heartache and loss. They laughed when I said, “I felt like my sensuality and sexuality were devastatingly occluded and that directly impacted my creativity, innate joie de vivre and ability to function in life.” At the same time, I was reading a book titled Vagina that confirmed my suspicions and completely altered the way I view passion, desire, lust and intimacy.
It was during June I recovered the most. Travelling through Germany, Croatia, Montenegro, Albania and Greece gave me the heart-space I so sorely needed. Days were spent diving through aquamarine waters with my eyes wide open, walking 15 km a day, eating the freshest Mediterranean cuisine and laughing with my soul-sister. After living with a man for 3.5 years there’s nothing I wanted in my life more than feminine energy. I smile, when I look around at my life today, and all I see is supportive, loving, inspiring women all around me.
I returned from that trip transformed: my energy was lighter, I could make jokes again, I didn’t stumble over my words and avert my eyes when talking to men, and I had hope in my heart. After practising all my manifestation prowess during June, I moved into a new flat, west of my favourite place in London: Hampstead Heath on July the 1st. Days later I went to a festival and danced my little heart out. And I remembered something I had forgotten: dancing is potent medicine. Shaking all my cells loose of the energetic panopticon I was trapped inside shifted everything. In the days that followed I could feel that I had been restored back to my authentic and magnetic self. The tangible result was an opulence of opportunities came sliding into my emails and unexpected luck where ever I turned. The universe always rewards our alignment.
Two nights ago, seized by a wave of excitement and joy, I followed that promise to do things that feel good again, and spontaneously booked a flight to Budapest next weekend to join some new friends for another festival. Any chance to shake my cells and replace them with alchemy. I’ll return in early August, 2 days before my birthday, with some magic tricks up my sleeves (a surprise 50% off everything sale, but ssshhhh for now) and two new courses that I’m currently working on.
While I have no idea where my path might lead right now, there are 2 things I know for sure: 1. I know, with absolute clarity, what I want and 2. the future is very, very bright, my friends. Bring on the plot twists!

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