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About peanut butter, shame, and old stories


I was journaling the other morning and flashed on a memory from close to 50 years ago…

I snuck into the kitchen when I knew my mom wasn’t there, opened the fridge, and got myself a spoonful of peanut butter — then devoured it and disposed of any evidence before I got caught. This was hardly the only time I took on such stealth activity related to food; this scene is an amalgamation of countless such moments. 

So, the questions you might be asking are these:

  1. Why did she need to sneak in the first place? What was wrong with having a spoonful of peanut butter?
  2. Why did she know to anticipate shame, if caught? What about the shame she felt in getting away with what was not allowed?

My behavior was hardly limited to peanut butter, nor did it end when I was young. I can conjure up memory after memory in which I was convinced that I needed to hide my behavior. Yes, around food, but also money, sex, anything not deemed “good” or “right.” And it persists. 

I am now 61 years old, have been in years of therapy and spiritual direction, am deeply familiar with self-reflection, have grown in profound ways, and am far, far from that young girl in a small dairy town in Eastern Washington. Somehow, it doesn’t seem to matter. All of these core fears and beliefs remain. No, they don’t hold the same power they once did, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t present, functioning, and often running roughshod.

How about a current example: 

When I order something on Amazon, both of my daughters receive a confirmation email. If they click on “details,” they instantly know what is coming my way. As you might imagine, this is distinctly problematic around birthdays and Christmas, but above/beyond those obvious and appropriate “secrets,” here’s what happens within me: I actually think about what I’m going to purchase (or not) based on my anticipation of their response.

I know! It sounds completely crazy. Cuz it is!! It doesn’t function as powerfully as it once did. I don’t give it a ton of credence. But that doesn’t mean it’s not still there. The pattern persists — and remains — at a DNA-level, it seems:

  • what I want is disallowed or “wrong”
  • not getting caught or hiding is my response
  • shame is a given

It would be really, really easy for me to launch into the story of Eve right now — all the ways in which that telling (not the story itself) has created and reinforced why I feel this way; why you probably do, as well.

There’s another story I want to tell instead. Back to the other morning, my journaling, and the remembered story of the stealth peanut butter…

As is my ritual, I type for about 45 minutes and then draw a card from my deck — just to see what woman/story/wisdom might show up on my behalf and speak to what I’ve written up to that point. The card I turned over? 

I swear: I can’t make this up.

The Unaccused Woman

Do you know her story? If you have heard of her, she’s been called The Woman Caught in Adultery. I despise this “name” for a myriad of reasons: she continues to be objectified, the man is not responsible at all, her “sin” is our focus, it perpetuates the belief that a woman’s desire is dangerous…I could go on and on.

So, I’ve renamed her The Unaccused Woman. Here’s the gist:

Jesus was traveling from town to town, drawing larger and larger crowds — much to the dismay of the religious leaders and teachers. In order to trap him, they brought a woman before him and said, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. The law of Moses says to stone her. What do you say?” He bent over and wrote in the dust with his finger as they kept demanding an answer. Finally he stood up and said, “All right, but let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone.” Then he returned to drawing in the dirt. When her accusers heard this, they slipped away one by one until only Jesus and the woman were left in the midst of the crowd. He said to her, “Where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?” “No, Lord,” she said. He replied, “Neither do I.” 

This story makes mine about peanut butter (or money or sex or Amazon purchases) seem relatively inconsequential. But we have much in common — this woman and me (and you). Centuries and centuries have spoken of her sin. Centuries and centuries have guessed about what he was drawing in the dirt. Centuries and centuries have pondered and preached and pontificated about “he who is without sin throw the first stone.” Centuries and centuries have made this story about his power to forgive. Centuries and centuries have assumed she was guilty — and just “lucky” that Jesus happened along to save her. 

What has not been spoken of, asked, or considered (at least not nearly enough) is who she was in the first place, let alone who she became when all the old stories suddenly disappeared, when she was seen without shame, when she stepped into an expanse of grace. And we’ve certainly not asked what wisdom she longs to offer on our behalf when we find ourselves caught in old stories, reeling in shame (imagined or real), and repeating old patterns that no longer serve.

Perhaps it’s time we did. It’s what she deserves. It’s what we deserve — and desire and need! Whether it has anything to do with peanut butter, or not. 

“It helps me to be in conversation with the women who have gone before us because understanding the past illuminates how we got to where we are and how we might walk a brighter path into the future.” ~ Elizabeth Lesser, Cassandra Speaks

What might she say to you today, knowing what she knows?

The shadows are not your home; step into the light.

Imagine if this was the refrain, the over-arching truth, the wisdom that was inculcated into you from the earliest age. Imagine if her voice was the one you heard in bedtime stories, read in your favorite books, sang of in houses of worship…

You do not need to sneak. You do not need to hide. And you do not need to feel shame. Every part of you is wanted, allowed, and welcomed. Walk through your days in full expression of your desire, your wants, your opinions, your hopes, your emotions, your beliefs. Those hints of accusation, the possibility of risk, the fear of being caught? Never deserved, never appropriate, never yours to take on. And the shadows? They are not where you belong. So now, at last, step into the light and stay there. Stand in the spotlight, center stage, visible and glorious — making your own choices: wise, full-of-desire, and sovereign. It’s time. I am with you.

You are draped with dignity and grace. 

Imagine if this was the blessing spoken over you at birth, repeated at each meal, whispered as prayer while someone soothed your brow and tucked you in at night…

See yourself as I do — robed in velvet, beautiful beyond compare, shoulders back, strength revealed, no questions asked. And in moments and seasons when this vision feels far away, almost impossible, ask yourself: “What does dignity look like right now?” “What does grace feel like right now?” Both are givens. Both are yours. These two — as faithful companions — offer you a way of being that eliminates shame (by self or others), reminds you of who you truly are, and removes all judgment and fear. This IS who you are. Always. From the beginning of time and still today. No matter what. I promise.

Freedom and strength define you.

Imagine if this was reinforced at every turn, repeated in every moment of doubt, tattooed on your heart, the index card on your mirror, the magnet on your fridge…

Freedom defines you — not second guessing or holding back or being small of staying silent or enduring shame. Freedom defines you — so choose, and choose, and choose again: what you want, what you desire, what you believe in, what you know. Freedom defines you — not a man or a job or a culture or your social media numbers. Strength defines you — not compliance or compromise or peace-making or your bank statement. Strength defines you — so risk and speak and give and love. Strength defines you — in the most fierce and tender of ways. Knowing you have complete freedom is what gives you strength. Trusting in your strength is what gives you freedom. Both are yours. By divine right. By inheritance. As impossible-to-ignore truth. You are my daughter, my lineage, my kin.

My experience as a young girl is a small story. Not hugely significant, necessarily. But it offers me a glimpse into so many more stories that were yet to come — and still do. The peanut butter itself is not the cause or to blame; rather, it’s a symptom (and a source of discernment/wisdom) of something far larger, older than time, in my bloodstream…and in yours. 

We have been trained to see ourselves at fault, the ones to blame, deserving of being drug into the center of town and stoned. We assume that pursuing what we want — from the smallest thing to the largest — is going to get us into trouble…or cause it for others. We are fairly certain that we will somehow, some way, be punished. And in truth — every bit of this is all-too-often true! We’re not imagining it or making it up! Centuries and centuries have taught us these lessons, we’ve experienced their pain ourselves, and we’ve certainly witnessed them in others. 

Which is why a story like The Unaccused Woman matters so much. Which is why paying attention to the seemingly-smallest of stories in our own lives matters so much.

“You may think these stories are the stuff of ‘once upon a time’ and have nothing to do with you or your times. But ‘once upon a time’ is now, because the past is laced into the present on the needle and thread of stories.” ~ Elizabeth Lesser, Cassandra Speaks

Indeed. 

I hope you will pay attention to your own memories, that you’ll wonder about what they invite, and maybe even listen to the voice and wisdom of an ancient, sacred woman from long ago who has so much to say, so much to offer, and who longs for so much on your behalf. 

And definitely eat peanut butter by the spoonful!!


I write a letter every week — and email it every Monday morning. I’d love for you to have it: my thoughts, truth-telling, not skimming the surface. From my heart to yours. SUBSCRIBE.

4 thoughts about NOT living a conventional life

SUBTITLE: Why Discomfort, Unpredictability, and Breaking the Rules Matters.

“Most of us live conventional lives. We want to avoid the discomforts that arise from complications. But the full, creative life must be open to unpredictability. Jewish wisdom urges us to open our eyes to the possibility of change, even to the need to break a rule. Sometimes the only way to grow is to take a bite of the apple.” ~ Rabbi Irwin Kula

Fantastic. Powerful. And true.

Here’s where we’re headed:

  1. a conventional life = avoiding discomfort
  2. a full, creative life = unpredictability
  3. change = breaking a rule (or two)
  4. growth = taking a bite of the apple

Yum!

When I look back at my own life, my adamant demand of avoiding discomfort (for myself and for others) has caused me to choose what is generally done or believed — at the expense of my intuition, my wisdom, my very heart. The opposite has also been true: when I have listened to my intuition, trusted my wisdom, and followed my heart it has always been outside of convention, incredibly uncomfortable, and most-definitely (ultimately) worth it.

How about for you?

  • What stories come to mind? Where, when, and with whom have you diligently worked to sustain comfort (your own and/or others’), maintain the status quo, avoid discomfort and choose convention?
  • Think about your own experiences of being uncomfortable. Are they also the places in which you’ve gone against the grain, done what’s unexpected, and (hopefully) chosen what’s best for you instead of what everyone else wanted from/for you? What does that invite you to consider?

Instead of resisting discomfort, how might we welcome it? Could we learn to see “complications” as a form of discernment; a trail of breadcrumbs that lead us to what is unconventional — and far closer to what we truly value and desire?

Because I do not want to live a conventional life, discomfort cannot be avoided.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the “state” of my life, now 61 years old, relatively-suddenly living on the other side of the country with my sister and her family, changing pretty much everything. It’s not the first time I’ve done something like this: seemingly random and unconventional. There is a part of me that wants to believe I’ve been the one to make this happen, but I know better. In truth, it has been the unexpected, the surprises, the random and seemingly-crazy choices that have ultimately shaped the life that is mine.

And just so you know, this pattern applies to far more than just “good” things! Some of the hardest seasons in my life were unexpected and completely out of my control — others’ decisions impacted me in excruciating ways, there were circumstances I could have no more predicted than flown, ramifications and realities were everywhere that I didn’t see coming. All unpredictable — and much to my chagrin. In the moment, the opposite of “full and creative,” but usually the means through which my life has found deeper meaning, more fullness, and yes, creativity, as well.

When we look back, we see all the twists and turns our story has taken; a plot that has been far less conventional and far more full-and-creative than we might have ever imagined or predictably planned on our own.

How about for you?

  • What thoughts come to mind when you think of allowing your life to be unpredictable?
  • Consider when you were most firmly grasping for control, what was predictable, and what felt safe. What words describe your life during those times?
  • What stories come to mind that you’d define as “creative and full”? How was unpredictability manifest in the midst?

When we find ourselves in places that feel the opposite of “full and creative,” it is probably because the need to control is dialed way up; we (falsely) believe that life is 100% ours to determine and shape.

[I certainly do not believe it’s all in the hands of fate. Agency and choice, will and determination — these things matter. Take heart: if you’re anything like me, there’s no risk whatsoever of these things disappearing! The challenge and invitation is allowing in the opposite, the unpredictable.]

When/if life feels empty and dry, unfulfilling and exhausting, it’s the unpredictable that’s called for — which means letting go, surrendering, releasing our grip.

I’m a huge advocate for breaking things: rules, traditions, assumptions, patterns, habits, beliefs.

I haven’t always been this way. In fact, far more of my life could be defined by following the rules — no matter what! It ensured that I’d be loved, accepted, and allowed, even honored and esteemed. And every bit of that worked for me — until it didn’t.

How about for you?

  • Do you agree that change cannot occur without rules being broken?
  • When have you broken the rules? What change occurred?
  • Can you name the rules that you’re afraid to break right now in service of your own change?

It’s important to note that rules — especially those that we follow as women — are a) what is demanded of us; and b) the very things that perpetuate patriarchy’s harm. It is defiant to intentionally break them — and it is critical.

If we want change, because we want change (for ourselves and for our world), we must be fiercely committed to being rule-breakers.

No surprise: I love this part of the quote the most!

Eve’s choice to eat the apple is what moved humanity forward, invited life in a more expansive world, even brought forth vastly increased intimacy and connection with the divine (vs. the opposite, as we’ve been told) and yes, compelled growth.

She serves as a woman’s best template, mentor, and muse. She provides a model of what it means to choose the unconventional, to be unpredictable, to break the rules, and yes, to take a bite of the apple.

And yet, what we have inculcated and internalized (even if unintentionally and unwittingly) through her story is just the opposite! Which makes me completely crazy AND explains, at least in part, why it’s hard for us to follow her lead. We feel the tension when we are perceived as:

swimming upstream
going against the grain
thinking for ourselves
acting on our own volition
choosing what we want
listening to and trusting our own wisdom

Every bit of this has been reinforced as “bad,” wrong, even sinful for thousands upon thousands of years!

How about for you?

  • What is your very first thought when you hear Eve’s name? What data does that give you about internalized beliefs related to risk, trusting yourself, or being defiant?
  • What IS the apple you most want to bite? Can you name what prevents you from doing so?
  • Once again, look back over your own life. What are the experiences that have enabled the most growth? How many of those held an element of choosing yourself over others’ expectations or demands?

Instead of seeing ourselves as defiant when we take a bite of the apple, we must recognize it as our truest nature; pursuing and cherishing growth is our truest nature!

If you ever want to hear exactly what I think about Eve’s story (and the way it’s been told), listen to my TEDx Talk.

*****

One more time:

“Most of us live conventional lives. We want to avoid the discomforts that arise from complications. But the full, creative life must be open to unpredictability. Jewish wisdom urges us to open our eyes to the possibility of change, even to the need to break a rule. Sometimes the only way to grow is to take a bite of the apple.” ~ Rabbi Irwin Kula

May it be so.

3 Ways to be Determined & Wise

There’s an ancient, sacred story told of a woman who had the capacity to influence a man of power, who was adamant about her desires, who demanded the miraculous, and who, offers us a pretty amazing template for how to be determined, independent, and wise ourselves!

I love her story: her determination, her opinionated-ness, her unwillingness to accept “no” for an answer, her strength, her courage, her decisiveness, her agency…

And chances are high you’ve not heard of her. Or if you did, it was a LONG time ago and definitely without the 3 points I’m about to make!

She’s called the Shunammite. The prophet she interacts with is Elisha. And the miracle she demands is her son’s resurrection. Which she gets, by the way! (Though this may sound WAY outside the context of your own story, stay with me. I promise…it will connect and relate.)

She offers us three takeaways worth pondering, pursuing, and living:

 

1) This woman constructed her own rules related to wealth, roles, and voice.

She was not constrained by the common customs of the day (dependent, deferring, and silent). She was profoundly countercultural, made decisions completely independent of a man, and was intact — in and of herself — in every way.

Consider the predominant messages of our world today: the assumed standards of what is “appropriate” or “acceptable” behavior. What are the unspoken rules you know like the back of your hand? I get it: few of them are blatant; no declaration hangs on the wall. It’s highly possible that the only time you are actually aware of any “rules” at all is when you consider breaking one of them. And then? Well, resistance floods. The list of cons far outweighs the pros. You can already anticipate exactly what the fallout will be if you do/be/say ________.

The Shunammite offers you something far different. She says,“ Do just the opposite! Construct your own rules. No permission required!”

 

2) This woman did not place stock in religious authority or positions of power.

Instead, she relied on her own understanding, beliefs, and faith. She ostensibly said, “I will choose my own response to this circumstance. I will not be silenced into submission. I will determine where I place my hope and in whom.”

Think about your own story with religion — whether you went to church every single Sunday like me or just the opposite. What did you learn about who held the power, who determined what was allowed and not, right and wrong, good and bad? Chances are high there was little choice: you either believed or you didn’t; you acceded to the system and the beliefs, or you did not. And that either/or, black/white binary profoundly (and painfully) limits your spirituality, your experience of the sacred. It breaks my heart.

This woman, the Shunammite offers you something far different. Decide for yourself what you will believe, what you will hope in, what is worth fighting for. You get to choose, experience, and know the sacred on your own terms.

 

3) This woman refused to take “no” for an answer

— especially from those who wielded far more power and authority. She didn’t ask for her husband’s permission. She wouldn’t let Elisha’s servant serve as proxy. In fact, she conjured the power-source himself into her midst by adamantly refusing anything less.

Consider the places in your life — past and present — in which the tendency or temptation to comply or compromise has been not only present, but overwhelming. Because…well…let’s be honest: to stand up for yourself, to state your opinion, to exert your own power often feels more exhausting than it’s worth. To be just a little smaller, accept just a little less, take on just a bit more, and silently endure isn’t your first choice, but sometimes, quite frankly, it feels like the most sane one. Saying “yes,” even though it’s not wholehearted becomes far easier than having to stand fast, resist, and remain firm. I understand, believe me.

This woman, the Shunammite offers you something far different. “No” can be your default response — to any form of compromise, to any requirement that you give up hope, to any person of power who wants you to settle down or settle, period.

********

Pretty good stuff, huh? And all from a dusty, old, and relatively unknown story that (still) offers us powerful and relevant ways of being that are relevant, practical, and applicable right now, today, in this moment. (I love that this is the case!!)

So, by way of review:
1) Do just the opposite of the rules and expectations in place.
2) Define and experience the sacred on your own terms; create your own spirituality.
3) Say “no” to any form of power who prefers less of you instead of all of you.

*******

This story, the Shunammite’s is one of 52 that I reimagine and retell so that you can be accompanied, advocated for, and supported by the wisdom you deserve for the year ahead.

One of these stories, these women, is choosing you. I’m certain of it!

Learn more, then order your 2022 SacredReading today. 50% off through 12/20/21!

See yourself as a miracle

When I was 8 or 9, my newborn sister went into the hospital. I don’t remember the details. I don’t remember ever visiting her there. I don’t even remember what was diagnosed. What I do remember is seeing my mother cry for the first time. She and my father stood in a corner of the living room — her shoulders hunched over as she shed close-to silent tears; his arms around her — trying to console. And I vaguely remember one of them telling me that Lorri was sick.

I can imagine they would have done anything remotely possible to have her back. I can imagine that their desperation would have driven them to cling to the smallest of options. And I am certain that they prayed — asking for her healing, longing for a miracle.

There’s an ancient story told of a father and his daughter. She was only 12 years old and dying. Desperate, the father went in search of a healer he’d heard rumor of, then begged him to come back to his home and heal his girl. As they set out together, messengers arrived saying, “Don’t bother the teacher any longer; she has already died.” The healer paid no attention, saying, “Don’t be afraid, only believe.”

When they arrived at the man’s home, there was nothing but confusion and wailing. Again the healer spoke: “The child is not dead — she is only sleeping.” When people started making fun of him, jeering at what he’d said, he sent them all away and went into her room — along with three of his disciples and her mother and father. He took her by the hand and said, ““Little girl, get up!” She got up at once and started walking around.

I imagine her skipping out of her room and into the crowd of people, all smiles, oblivious to both their shock and overwhelming joy. She probably asked for a snack and then wanted to go play with her friends. Just like that — all was as it should be.

She was a living, breathing miracle. From the age of 12 and for the rest of her life, this would have been her identity — the way in which she was known by others, the way in which her parents would have seen her, what would have been whispered about her as she walked down the street, grew, lived her life. In some ways, we might guess this was a burden to bear: others expect too much of you; an average life will not suffice.

What if she had a different perspective? What if being a miracle was what opened her up to a life of possibility and joy and expanse? And what if that’s exactly what she offers you today?

*****

Yes, you.

Imagine it. Dream big. Dig deep. Ask yourself: If I believed I was a miracle, I would…

Every answer that shows up is your wisdom speaking; your desire, your heart, your longing, your truth. And you can trust it. Because you are a miracle. Now…to believeing it and being it!

May it be so.

A 3-Step Plan Worth Following

I lived a very long season of my life (decades, really) in which I was endlessly on the hunt to find a plan that would make sense of everything, give me the happily-ever-after I wanted, ease my every stress and struggle.

What I learned, usually the hard way, is that those plans don’t exist. Which explains why I’m skeptical of them.

Still, there is a plan that feels far wiser than anything I’ve dared to try, have seen on a bookshelf, or have ever had recommended. It’s inspired by one of the ancient, sacred stories I tell — about a woman who had little-to-no power, hardly any choice, and realities that endlessly conspired against her. In spite of all this, here was the 3-step plan she somehow managed to live:

1. Trust your heart.
2. Take crazy risks.
3. Let go of the outcome.

I could tell you her story — both how it’s been told throughout time and my reimagined and redeemed version. I could fill you in on just how passionately committed she was to a life that was not only non-traditional, but completely counter-cultural, without any compromise or compliance. And I could certainly speak to all that she (still) has to offer you and me both, when it comes to working through resistance, getting past gatekeepers, and living in a world that often rarely sees or honors women’s voices, bodies, wisdom, or very selves. Without all the details, here’s the bottom line: to choose and embody any of these three steps (let alone all three) is MIRACULOUS.

Which is why she’s worth following, why we would be wise to trust her heart on our behalf and risk that she knows of what she speaks and somehow believe that the outcomes, no matter what they are, will be worthy and worthwhile.

And just to reinforce her relevance, this:

Though centuries have passed between her story and mine, I continue to work through resistance (internal and external). I endlessly strive to not only name, but get past gatekeepers (again, internal and external). And I still live in a world that rarely sees or honors me as a woman. I’m guessing I’m not the only one.

I’m also guessing that your actual three step plan looks a lot like mine (whether we admit we have one, or not):

1. Determine the outcome I want.
2. Mitigate every risk.
3. Find ways to get determined outcomes without the involvement of my heart at all; definitely no reliance on trust..

Not. Miraculous. At all.

So, back to where I started: Yes, I’m highly suspect of 3-step plans (or 7 or 12). But this one? It feels daring enough to invite the life I long for, risky enough to bring about results I’d barely dream of, and courageous enough to actually invite freedom, expansiveness, hope, and joy.

1. Trust your heart.
2. Take crazy risks.
3. Let go of the outcome.

May it be so.

*****

I write a letter every week. It’s filled with my stories, my thoughts, my doubts, my beliefs, my challenges, my hopes. And after I write it, I email it to you – every Monday morning. I’d love for you to have it. SUBSCRIBE.

The Power of Childhood Stories

We rarely give a second thought to the stories of our childhood. Fairytales, religious myths, favorite books, legend, lore, or those that just seemed to be “in the water” — the stories of our family, our culture, the systems and structures within which we lived.

But in not thinking about them – and with intention – we are prone to repeat the messages hidden within, often unwittingly, over and over again, no matter how many years have passed since those stories were told. The plots, the protagonists, the antagonists, and the morals/messages remain in our psyche, our way of viewing our world, our very DNA.

An example:

Cinderella. One of my favorite stories growing up – specifically, the Rodgers and Hammerstein version that played on TV only once a year.

The takeaways:

  • You can always count on something magical to make everything better.
  • Everything is better when you are pursued and chosen by a prince.
  • Yes, you feel forgotten, misunderstood, and unseen, but that will change when a prince sees you for who you truly are.
  • Yes, you’re sitting by the cinders, put upon and all alone, but it’s just a matter of time before your fate completely turns around.
  • When you are beautiful, everything changes.
  • Happily Ever After is a thing.

Underneath each of those, exist a few more:

  • Look outside yourself for answers, solutions, and the life you long for.
  • Being chosen by a prince (translate: man) is the penultimate goal; it gives your life meaning and value.
  • Just keep hoping and wishing for things to get better.
  • Buy the makeup, the clothes, play the part: you’ll be noticed, valued, and loved.
  • When you are beautiful, everything changes (Wow, does this one embed!)
  • There is a “someday” that will solve every problem, heal every hurt, and make you whole.

Made manifest in my life:

  • I don’t trust my own wisdom.
  • I see marriage (and the man) as the goal, the aspiration, the answer; he determines my value and worth, my lovability, even my beauty.
  • When things don’t change, I’m convinced that’s because I’m not pretty enough, thin enough, beautiful enough, perfect enough.
  • Because, after all, if I were beautiful, everything would change!
  • I chase the promise of Happily Ever After through relationships, jobs, money, courses and programs, shopping, you name it. I can’t settle into and be satisfied with who I am.

This is but one example! Clearly, I could go through the very same process with Snow White, Hansel and Gretel, and Eve (which I have done, many times).

The stories you’ve been told, even if they were many, many years ago, lodge themselves in your understanding of self, your understanding of the world around you.

You don’t have to think directly about Cinderella to have her show up in your deepest beliefs, your most painful insecurities, or your hopes for your future. (Bibbidi, bobbidi, boop!)

I have no critique of Cinderella. In fact, years later, I watched the Disney version of the musical with my girls — over and over again. Brandy replaced Leslie Anne Warren, Whoopie Goldberg played the queen, and Bernadette Peters was the wicked stepmother. It’s less about the story itself and more about a closer look at ourselves via the stories.

When you name and acknowledge the stories you’ve been told, you can unravel them enough to then proactively weave the story you desire and deserve.

Consciously. Intentionally. With agency and sovereignty and will.

You are shaped by the stories you’ve been told. Fairytales. Bedtime stories. Bible stories. Disney. Nickelodeon. Netflix. Novels. Around-the-table talk of family. The over-story of your predominant culture (patriarchy, racism, misogyny, colonialism, capitalism, etc.)

Knowing them, looking at them, and then choosing what serves and what does not, makes all the difference. The stories that make you you are worth your every effort. YOU are worth your every effort! Always.

*******

I believe that the stories we’ve been told (and the ones we tell ourselves) are almost single-handedly responsible for sovereignty’s absence. Its presence is what you deserve. Join me for SOVEREIGNTY — my live, 9-week program.

All the details are here. Registration closes on 9/6/21.

This program was way more and way better and way deeper healing than I knew to ask for. Though I had an idea it would be awesome, what I got was a gift I didn’t know to ask for, much less receive.  I’m so grateful I said, “yes.” ~ Sheri M.

SOVEREIGNTY was a “yes” for me because I wanted the opportunity to learn from Ronna. The most valuable impact from the 9 weeks was being able to acknowledge that in many, many ways I already am sovereign; that I contain all the necessary components. Jennie Alexis, Values Leader