I’m going through some pretty significant internal changes lately. And over the next year, the website will start to reflect that.

Years ago, in the depths of my depression, my friend N and I would discuss that SOME DAY parts of my life might make a good story as a foundation for “motivational speaking” [you know, like Tony Robbins] before they started calling it “life coaching”.

I mean, when you look at a broad-strokes description of the last 15 years or so, you get a disabled-vet-single-mother with bipolar disorder, crippled with depression, homeless at one point, fighting through and getting a degree and (soon!) a teaching credential, starting a new career and getting on her feet, and raising a talented kid that is graduating in the top 10% of her class.

Wow.

I need to take a moment to own that. Breathe into it.

Because when you put it like that, it sounds pretty freaking awesome. And that doesn’t feel like me.

Ok, so it took more than 10 years for all that to happen.

But it still happened.

And I always thought that maybe SOME DAY I could talk to people about that, and tell them to keep going when it’s hard, because even though it seems like it takes forever, it does get better. Or maybe write about it instead. Or use a book as a platform to start speaking. Something like that.

I thought that SOME DAY I could do that.

SOME DAY, when I’m successful enough.

SOME DAY, when I’m wise enough.

SOME DAY, when I’m strong enough.

SOME DAY, when I have a zillion credentials after my name.

SOME DAY, when I have the respect of my spiritual teachers.

SOME DAY. . . .

Out there, in the future.  . . SOME DAY.

And right now, there’s so much crashing in my head, screaming at me,

“Fuck SOME DAY. Do it NOW.”

Part of it is that I’ve been reading and listening to things like Leela Somaya at the Succulent, Savvy, & Soul-Full Business Revolution, and I joined the Wild Sisterhood, and of course, Leonie Dawson’s stuff.

But there’s more too it, too.

After all, I’ve been on Leonie’s email list since 2010. I’ve read Naomi Dunford a longer than that.

I’ve wanted to do something for a long time, but I didn’t know what.

Through the SSSBR, I’ve been (virtually) introduced to a ton of women that are doing this kind of thing. Helping people. Guiding people. And making a great living doing it.

And most of them started off simply.

There’s fear here, a lot of fear.

What if no one wants to listen to me? What if I can’t come up with the million dollar idea right away? What if I look/sound stupid? Other people are already doing this. I’m not unique. I can’t.

But in the interviews I’ve listened to or watched, every.last.one, they’ve felt these same fears. They still feel these same fears, even when they’re successful.

And none of them knew exactly what their key, signature message was going to be when they started.

Jeneth Blackert started by writing a small book about Seven Dragons. This tiny book talks about all those fears and gives them names, similar to Havi Brooks “Monsters”. I read it.

There’s nothing in that book I didn’t know already. I mean, maybe a slight new take on a technique or the names she gave the dragons, but the core info? I know already.

That’s coming up over and over for me. I’m looking at the ebooks and worksheets people are selling, and thinking, “I could totally do that!”

I remember all the times N and I went to the bookstore. She’ll go over to the Pagan/Magick/Witch shelf and pick up a few books, and say, “None of these are THE book I’m looking for.”

I started telling her, “You’re not going to find it until you write it.”

The closing lines of the Charge of the Goddess ring in my head:

know that your seeking and yearning shall avail you not, unless you know the mystery: if that which you seek, you find not within yourself, then you shall never find it without.

That’s where I’m at.

I can’t keep looking to others to tell me what to do. I can’t keep asking “experts” what I should do.

I have to look within.

I’m jumping into something new, and building my wings on the way down.

I’m going to start asking you to share with your friends if I say something you think they can relate to or to sign up for the newsletter.

I promise that I’m still going to write the way I write, about what I’m going through, good and bad. Every post won’t turn into a sales pitch for something.

But other things will be changing.

I’ve started already.

I’m writing something. It’s not completely fleshed out yet, but I’m working on something (and mentioning it to get some accountability)

And next month, I start writing 3-4 posts per month for Invincible Summer to start reaching out to more people.

I’m terrified.

But I’m going to start anyway.