We all have certain lessons we stepped onto this blue and green planet to learn. These lessons will show up over and over again - sometimes in profound ways, sometimes in deeply annoying ones. Hooray for being human!
My personal Mount Everest is trust.
All writers and intuitives and healers and artists must learn to navigate trust. Trust in what comes through, trust that what's received is what's needed, even if neither the receiver nor the recipient fully understand it. Especially then.
Stepping out of the spinning thoughts and into the body, into the channel, into the space where the muse feels welcome can be a mammoth-size challenge. It’s a big expansion that doesn’t happen once, it happens countless times over the course of a life.
We all want to feel like we can trust our decisions, our intuition, the greater purpose of our life - especially when we don’t feel in control. But this often requires a lot of us. Because trust, by definition, is accepting the perfection of both process and outcome, even when it all appears deeply and aggravatingly flawed.
Sitting in traffic on my way to Berkeley on Monday night, I was feeling fairly certain that planning to stand in front of a room full of fifty amazing women without a talk prepared was a terrible idea.
Since I’m a much better conduit than I am a public speaker, I decided to use my thirty minutes on stage to receive whatever was meant for that specific gathering of women on that specific evening. Because I know that whatever comes through me when steeped in the energy of the group would be far more valuable than anything I could prepare in advance.
But talk about an exercise in deep goddamn trust. Trust that I hadn't made a big mistake. Trust that I would stand in front of those lovely women and receive what they needed to hear in that moment - and quickly enough that we wouldn't all have to just exist together in that room, silently and awkwardly.
Being present on stage and being fully myself, while also being a clear channel and holding the space for so many powerful women to have their own emotional experience felt big and humbling.
It was also a lot more fun than I anticipated. Even if I had to basically crawl to the back of the room afterward and pass out on the floor, rising only to shovel almonds into my craw as fast as I could wrench them from the bag before sprawling out on the floor again.
Showing up and trusting myself in new ways is something I want to do a lot more of in the next few months and years. I don't know quite what that looks like yet, but I'm going to keep asking for the right moments to appear in the right time.
What’s your Mount Everest? Is it trust? Truth? Self-love? Self-worth? We can have multiple peaks in our own personal mountain ranges. I sure do.
Your challenge this week, should you choose to accept it, is to ask to be shown ways up that mountain. As an invigorating ascent, rather than a painful slog. We can’t always choose how we receive our lessons but we can always request that they be received in a way that feels peaceful, even joyful.
We're now in a time when we're all being asked to step up in a much bigger way. And we are supported in that now, in a way we may not have felt before in our lifetimes. So now is the time, my friends.
Ask to be shown the way and it will come.