Fear is often about a deep sense of scarcity

Somehow, we've gotten the message that fear must be avoided at all costs. However, I would say the point isn't to be fearless, but to heal and to learn from fear. SO many of the women I work with arrive with tremendous fear and a sense of scarcity in different forms and variations. So the time felt ripe to write a post about fear and how to work with it in a way that actually works.

This is not a "F!&k Fear" post

Nope, it's actually going to be a lot more empowering than that. Because frankly, I think it's ridiculous to believe that we shouldn't feel fear or that we should try and be fear-free. Why? Well, fear is hard-wired into your limbic system. So working with your fear, not pretending you don't experience it, is far more transformative than trying to escape it.

Fear isn't the enemy we make it out to be

I don't believe that we live in a world (or a body) where we can stop experiencing fear. The most powerful practice...

You are the heroine of your own story.

No matter what circumstances, no matter what has happened to you — the way that you or I work with what we’ve been handed in life is what matters.

One of my clients, struggling at the moment, wondered aloud if focusing on the wounding she experienced around worthiness was just keeping her stuck, unable to move forward. Her wondering really struck me — I’ve certainly felt that way over the years and wanted desperately to just. be. over. it. I’ve taken the road of, “If I ignore the pain, the anger, and the anxiety and just focus on the positive and my strengths — it will just go away.”

The avoidance strategy doesn’t work.

It is so very human to want to avoid pain, to avoid feeling, to avoid facing the demons that lurk in the unexplored darkness of our body psyche. We fear that we will be swallowed whole, that pain will consume us, that we will never emerge from what might feel like a...

If you are in business, you are in the business of risk. 

• There is the risk of not making enough money to pay the rent.

• The risk of leaving the corporate paycheck behind.

• There is the risk of concept failure. 

• There is the risk that life will intervene and you will have to scale back your business.

And then there are all the risks that go along with saying yes and taking bold action.

• There is the risk that you will be criticized, called out, judged, and disliked by some. 

• There is the risk that you will work so much that the rest of your life will fall apart.

• There is the risk of reinvention and evolution.  

The risks you will take to be in business (hell, to live a full life) are endless, and though that may take your breath away, imagine me telling you that while looking you straight in the eye, knowing you are fully up to the task. 

It's vital to become a woman who will take risks.

Most good things in life are on the other side of...

Beautiful you. It's your time. 

The world needs you in all of your glorious, authentic, and unique power. What that means is you, fully present, full capacity, connected to the truth: you are powerful, you are loved, and you are a divine expression of all that is good and beautiful in the world. You, your business, your family, your community, and the world needs you to embody this truth. 

The whole of creation dances in your body. 

You are a creatrix. You hold the power of intuition, of knowing, of connection to the divine soul of the earth as a woman. Rivers, streams, and tributaries of nourishing blood pulse through you, expansive oceans of breath ebb and flow, the hot core of life bubbles up in the center of your chest, your luminous heart. The flesh of your body an ecosystem of mountain ranges, lush jungles, deserts, and pasture lands. Your bones, the rocky, solid terrain giving rise to form and shape. The womb of you, the seat of expression and receiving....

Reflecting back: 8:00am, December 10, 2004

I had been pushing for three hours. My husband had gone off to do laundry - his nerves were shot from the labor. I was sitting in the birthing tub in Clara's nursery, my head hanging over the side and I was crying.

"I can't do this. It's too much. It hurts. I've been pushing too long. What if something is wrong? Why won't she come out? What's wrong with me?" I was tired, scared and in pain and I was telling my midwife through tears all the reasons why I wasn't up to the task.

She listened and then, she said what I needed to hear.

She lovingly picked up my chin and looked me straight in the eye. Full of knowing and strength and steely feminine power she said exactly what I needed to hear:

"This is not the most difficult thing you will do for your daughter - not by a long shot. You can do this."

Three hours into the labor, she woke me up. Reminded me of who I am. I promised her another thirty minutes of all I had to give. I got out of...