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About My Book

Dec 2, 2022 | Women's Voice & Power, Writing

It feels WAY too far away to actually talk about, let alone celebrate, but still, I’m naming it:

On 10.3.23 my book will be published! Rewriting Eve: Claiming Women’s Sacred Stories As Our Own. 

I am relieved beyond words that 20-ish years of writing — and my deliberating and editing and doubting and pitching and starting over and sticking with it and frankly, just sheer endurance — is, at last, making its way into a book that I can hold in my hands . . . as can you. 

I can also tell you that it would be just like me to bypass every bit of this, to not note the significance of today’s date, to not let myself revel — even for a moment — in what I’ve accomplished, to not celebrate at all.

My dear friend Tanya Geisler talks about this often:

“[T]he Imposter Complex and its relentless requirement for perfection and certainty tries to keep us from celebrating our accomplishments, because what has been done is ‘not enough.‘”’ Or it could have been done better, faster, or more . . . something.

And so many of us have been conditioned to believe that celebrating our own accomplishments is far too much. Far too audacious.

And who are you to be larger than life, anyways?

Listen, I won’t lie.

Taking up the space the universe has carved out for you is not for the faint of heart. It takes tenacity and resilience and a reverence for ourselves that transcends the wee space around our toes. It takes boundaries and a willingness to rewrite the stories that were originally written to limit you and others like you. It takes support and a clarity of vision and a relentless fidelity to the promises you have made . . . to yourself as much as to others. It takes discernment and care and a trust in your ability to wield power in generative ways, even if you haven’t seen it modeled well before. It takes audacity.” 

You can read her whole post here.

She’s right of course.

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks because I know that every bit of this applies to me, that she’d say exactly these words to me (and few choice others), to be sure. I hear the voices within that natter on: “It’s not that big of a deal.” “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” “Almost a year away yet?!? Sheesh! Let it go.” 

I don’t like admitting any of this. 

But I know it’s needed: my own truth-telling. I also know that when I name my patterns and proclivities — with empathy and large doses of grace — I become more aware, more awake, more myself. 

I also know that every bit of this beyond-ironic. 

My book speaks EXACTLY to Tanya’s words above and my own: truth-telling, believing I am enough (and not too much), “. . . rewrit[ing] the stories that were originally written to limit you and others like you.” It’s what I have done in 60,000+ words. It’s what I’ve been doing for the last two decades, at least. And every page of it is about what it means to see ourselves as sovereign, glorious, and amazing. It’s a celebration of women, their stories, their wisdom, and their lives: the ancient, sacred ones, yours, and mine. 

And still, I struggle to celebrate myself! *sigh*

So today I’m making an effort. I’m giving focused attention to unravelling the messages within. I’m trying to do just the opposite of what I’m predisposed toward. I’m choosing to celebrate this “small” thing in preparation for what’s coming in another 330-some days. 

In the same blog post linked above, Tanya quotes Caroline McHugh:

“[There] are individuals who managed to figure out the unique gift that the universe gave them when they incarnated, and they put that in the service of their goals…

And when we see these people, we invariably call them larger than life. Life is large, but most of us don’t take up nearly the space the universe intended for us. We take up this wee space ‘round our toes, which is why when you see somebody in the full flow of their humanity, it’s remarkable. They’re at least a foot bigger in every direction than normal human beings, and they shine, they gleam, they glow. It’s like they swallowed the moon.”

This is the ache and the invitation, isn’t it? Not just for me, but you as well.

We are loath to take up more space, to shine, to gleam, to glow. We WANT it to be true about us AND we struggle. Both at the same time. 

This? Being a woman who has figured out the unique gift the universe has given them? Putting it in service of your goals? Looking like someone who has swallowed the moon? It’s what I want for you, more than nearly all else. It’s what you deserve.

And yes, me too. 

May it be so.

Saying “no” (out loud) to shame

Nov 18, 2022 | Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

I’ve been thinking about shame a lot lately.

I know it’s showing up because in the seemingly-endless writing/editing of my book manuscript, the story I’m working right now is all about shame . . . or so we’ve been told. (No, it’s not Eve — though that’s true in her story, as well.)

Here’s the shocking thing: there is NO reference to shame in the text itself. Every bit of it, centuries of it, has been brought to bear by those who have told her story.

She doesn’t feel shame. It’s what has been overwhelmingly applied to her. Blech!

Here’s what I’m struck by: this is what we do in and to our own stories — apply shame to ourselves!

Why? Why is that so often our default?

Yes, there is MUCH to be said about patriarchy, capitalism, consumerism, and then some — cultural and ideological realities that prey on the fact that when we feel shame we stay in line, don’t get too full of ourselves, don’t feel empowered, remain convinced that we’re not enough, spend money to become enough, and never quite hit the mark (which starts the cycle all over again).

But even after we’ve named all this, parsed it out via good and ongoing exploration of our own stories, it still sits there and shows up again and again and again: the burden of shame.

And so I wonder (not surprisingly), had this woman’s story — and Eve’s and so many more besides — been told without shame, would we so easily, unconsciously, and repeatedly apply it to ourselves?

My answer (not surprisingly) is that we most definitely would NOT!

Our work is to discern, in our own stories, our actual life, if shame IS what belongs there, or if its what we (and others) have assumed, applied, and layered on after-the-fact. 

One way to do this, to parse through all of this conflicting story-stuff and shame’s prevalence, is to think about a time in which you considered breaking the rules, stepping outside the lines, following your intuition / wisdom / heart. You KNEW it would create a ruckus, that others wouldn’t like it, that you would be seen as stirring up trouble or not following protocol or being selfish . . .

Or think about a time when you did it anyway . . .

  • What did you feel when you contemplated this choice?
  • And if you went through with it, what did others “make” you feel?
  • Do those emotions (which I’m guessing include shame) mean that you shouldn’t have done it? That you were wrong? That you WERE selfish? (I’m hoping your answer is “no.”)

See?

The insipid presence of shame either keeps us from trusting ourselves enough to make bold and brave choices that are in perfect alignment with who we truly are, what we truly want , and all that we deserve OR we do make the choice and then pay the price. We’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t.

Have I mentioned? Blech! So, back to the story and no actual mention of shame . . .

What if there was no mention in our own? What if we erased it? What if we didn’t give it a second thought? What if we understood it to be something that we’ve inherited and been taught to apply, but that doesn’t belong to us at all? What if we could eradicate it from our vocabulary and our lived experience?

What if, indeed!

And how would we do that, exactly?

Well, there are lots of ways, but here are two that come to mind:

First, we become acutely and intimately aware of when shame IS the emotion present (vs. guilt, humiliation, or embarrassment — to use Brené Brown’s vocabulary). We assess if it is REALLY what we feel or if it only seems like it because it’s what we are so familiar with — and/or if it’s what others expect and WANT us to feel (or are applying). And then we say, “no!” We refuse shame’s presence. We deny its power. We separate ourselves from the pattern or habit. We turn on our heel and walk a different way.

Second, not as alternative but as accompaniment, we reimagine and retell the countless stories we have been told about a woman’s shame — as though it were a given, just the way it is, commonplace, and to be expected. We critique our own assumptions and others’. And we re-vision those stories in ways that reveal their inherent beauty, wisdom, and strength . . . so that WE are the ones who come to see, understand, and value the same in ourselves.

Brené Brown says that “the antidote to shame is empathy.” For ourselves! And according to Kristen Neff, self-compassion is the key — which includes self-kindness vs. self-judgment, acknowledging our common humanity vs. isolation, and mindfulness vs. over-identification.

Think of it!! If empathy and compassion had been our implicit and overwhelming response to Eve’s story, to that of the Woman at the Well (the one I’ve been working with), to countless women throughout time, and ourselves?!? Everything would be different. I have to believe it still can be.

This week, maybe start small. Notice when shame rears its ugly head — and how it makes you feel. Then quietly (or loudly!) just say “no.”

Another thing? When you see shame being applied to other women — whether on social media, in a book or film, on the news — say “no” again. Out loud. And in its place, apply generous doses of empathy, self-compassion, and yes, grace.

You deserve a story without shame — past, present, and future. Every woman does — past, present, and future.

May it be so.

*****

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Learning to Trust Your Heart

Nov 11, 2022 | Hope & Encouragement

Growing up, I learned that the only voices I was to trust were those outside of me. Parents. My elders. Pastors. Scripture. And most certainly God. Somehow, even though I’d “invited Jesus into my heart,” that didn’t include listening to my heart. The idea of giving credence to any voice within was anathema. Frankly, I didn’t even consider it for decades. And when I DID hear a voice within, I knew it was not only untrustworthy but to be outright rejected. Unless, of course, it summoned guilt or shame. Those two were undoubtedly on the mark and accurate. (Just to be clear: I’m being facetious.)

I don’t say this in critique of my upbringing. I’m pretty sure your experience was similar, regardless of your faith / religious background or lack thereof. Few of us were taught to value and honor a woman’s inner knowing, her intuition, the voice of her heart. Fewer still of us were taught to value and honor our own inner knowing, our own intuition, the voice of our own heart.

So, when I did begin to hear an increasingly louder voice within, I was not sure what to do. At first, guilt and shame were my go-to’s. I was convinced that what I heard, thought, and felt was wrong! But as the voice persisted, I began to recognize that it was consistently counter to what people expected me to say, let alone do. In fact, most of the time, it asserted thoughts and ideas and emotions that were the opposite of what those in “authority” in my life at the time wanted from me: my husband, the church, and most certainly the God I had come to know.

That was then and this is now. Admittedly, there is lots in between the two, but let’s focus on the now, for now.

Now, when I hear the voice within that refutes or contradicts external “authority,” I know to follow it immediately. I know it to be exactly what I must trust. It is, without question or doubt, how I discern what to do, what is right, what is best.

Which explains why I so love this quote:

There can never be a spiritual authority outside of me that is greater than this voice I hear within, this voice of my own uncaged heart.

~ Meggan Watterson, Mary Magdalene Revealed

For most of us, when we even consider listening to the voice within, to the voice of our own uncaged heart, we are instantly bombarded with a mile-long list of risks, costs, and consequences.

  • If I follow the voice of my heart, then I will be misunderstood.
  • If I follow the voice of my heart, then others might get hurt.
  • If I follow the voice of my heart, then I will pay a price that’s more than I can afford.
  • If I follow the voice of my heart, then I might lose an opportunity, a job, a relationship, even more.
  • If I follow the voice of my heart, then I can no longer pretend.
  • If I follow the voice of my heart, then I have to be strong enough to follow through.
  • If . . . then . . .
  • If . . . then . . .
  • If . . . then . . .

Deep breath.

I’m not going to tell you that the above aren’t realistic or worth consideration. In fact, I’m far more honest when I tell you that every one of them should be expected! I wish I could say anything other, but I know better—from personal experience and in the lives of my clients, my friends, and others. As long as I’m being honest, let me also say that it has been my fear of exactly these things that has kept me from listening to the voice within. Instead, I’ve doubled-down on compromise and compliance, biding my time in the hopes that eventually something (someone) would change instead of me having to be the one to do so.

But as I said above, it is the conflict itself—the difference between the voice within and any voice of “authority” in my external world—that now tells me I’m on the right track. DISSONANCE IS A GIFT! The tension itself IS the voice of my uncaged heart calling me back to myself, to what’s true, to what’s possible, to what I desire, to what is in complete integrity and alignment, and to my own authority, to what I know-that-I know-that-I know every. single. time. Listen. Can you hear it? The voice within? The part of you that would, if it could, be free and expansive and passionate and unbridled and unrestrained and awake and alive?

Mmmmm. That is your uncaged heart, to be sure—beating, thrumming, speaking, singing, longing. That is all the authority you need to know-that-you-know-that-you-know every. single. time.

*****

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Stepping Into Fear

Sep 9, 2022 | Women's Voice & Power

Every so often, when you’ve come into fear, you’ve walked away. What if today you held that tremble, and stepped into the centre of it? What if today, you allow yourself more courage than you’ve ever felt? What if you did it anyway?

~ Sukhvinder Sircar

  • Read the quote again — and maybe a 3rd time.
  • Remember the times when you’ve come into fear and walked away. Extend yourself grace. It’s OK. It’s understandable. You’re allowed.
  • Where is fear most present for you now? What if you “held that tremble, and stepped into the centre of it?” What might happen? How might you acknowledge and weigh out all those risks, costs, and consequences and “stayed” with it?
  • If you allowed “yourself more courage than you’ve ever felt,” what would you do? What would you say? What would you write? What would you create? Who would you be?
  • “What if you did it anyway?”

Short and sweet. More than enough. May it be so.

Every week I write you a letter. From my heart to yours. My thoughts, the stories I love, and lots of reflection— all on your behalf. SUBSCRIBE to Monday Letters. Thanks in advance!!

Why I Left My Corporate Job

Nov 26, 2021 | Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

My thoughts on fear, courage, and being an entrepreneur.

In January of 2018 I left my 10-year-old online business for a job as a trainer/facilitator with a Leadership Development company. Though it was a complicated decision — walking away from my website, blogging, subscribers, my online presence — I knew it was the right one.

I was right. I loved the work. I loved the content I got to teach. And I loved the people I worked with. Just a year later, I was promoted. Then, just over a year later, Covid descended. Then, months after that, there was an unexpected senior leadership change. Then, everything changed.

In the midst of such, and regrettably, I watched myself move into my highly-honed default behaviors of compromise and compliance. I kept my head down. I didn’t speak up. I pulled back. I did what was required — but with less heart, less presence, less “me.” Until…

I pulled back far enough to notice. I had to honestly acknowledge that I was behaving in ways that were completely antithetical to who I knew myself to be. And though I couldn’t have known where it would lead, I said to myself, “No more.”

And then, things got even harder (as is almost always the case when we choose our own integrity, authenticity, and alignment over compromise and compliance). And harder still. Eventually, through a “mutual separation agreement,” I left. September 17, 2020.

It is hard to make choices on our own behalf when they are costly, when there is so much at stake, when fear of the unknown looms.

I believe this is almost always the nature of it — at least as I look back on the most significant decisions and transitions in my life. I also believe that bearing those costs and facing those fears exponentially increased the reward, my sense of strength and capacity, my awareness of my own value and worth.

If you are sitting at a crossroads, where the laundry list of costs feels nearly overwhelming, where what’s at stake is pretty much everything, where the fear of the unknown feels dark and scary, here’s what I want you to know:

  • Consider that the complexity and cost is the very evidence you need to confirm just how important this choice is, just how capable and worthy you are to make it, just how much you and your desires matter.
  • If it were simple or benign, you would have already made the move, had the conversation, left the job, risked it all, started your own business, enforced the boundary.It’s NOT simple or benign. Which is WHY it is asking so much of you.
  • Know that your costs and fears are real. You get to acknowledge them instead of push them under the surface. Not once, but over and over again. Though this feels daunting, it is like Olympic training: building strength you didn’t know you had in order to face and surmount challenges you didn’t know you could.
  • Trust me when I tell you that you are no less worthy if you wait, if you hold off, if you can’t bear those costs right now. I understand. You are still more than enough.

*****

Now just over a year out from my seemingly-stable corporate position that offered me a steady paycheck and benefits and frequent flyer miles and an expense account — I feel the to-be-expected angst of being on my own.

Day-in, day-out I see the costs, what’s at stake, and all my fears lined up like toy soldiers in front of my computer monitor waiting to be addressed or ignored, tackled or given into.

Day in, day-out I remind myself of what I’m doing and why it matters.

And day in, day-out I recognize that in spite of it all, I am choosing me — over and over again. Most days, that is more than enough benefit to stay the course, trust myself, and persist. Easy? Not at all. Worthwhile? That IS the risk, the gamble, and the focus of my endless hope.

May it be so.