The how-to’s of being “big”

Jan 13, 2021 | My sort-of Sermons, Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power

In my last post I named the ways in which we have transmuted being small into our very DNA. This is not the kind of small that Holly Whitaker is talking about. Not even close. It plagues us, sits with us, stays with us, and is the very thing that prevents us from being big. It’s complicated. 

Let’s review:

We must learn to be big in a way we’ve never been big – we must claim our right to take up space, to say our words, to claim our desires. We must also learn to be small in a way we’ve never been small – to be in service, led not by our egos or by our desire for material goods or by our fears and aversions, but by our desire to be liberated from these things. And we must do both at the same time. ~ Holly Whitaker, from Quit Like a Woman

Whitaker also wisely says this:

Perhaps before we can learn to be both big and small at the same time, we first have to learn to be big…I’ve had to learn to get big, in order to practice being small. 

What’s that how-to? How do we learn to get big so that we can practice being small? Well, using her quote above, it consists of three things:

We must claim our right to take up space.
We must say our words.
We must claim our desires.

Done and done, yes?

Or not.

No surprise: I immediately go to Eve when I see this list. It’s why I talk about her – again and again and again. Her story has been told as the cautionary tale to prevent all three of these things! Look what happens when you get (too) big! Banishment. Downfall. Disaster. And a lifetime of separation from all that is good and perfect. No pressure. But that’s ONLY because that’s how her story has been told! If we want to learn to be big, we must blow it up and start again. (I’d probably go so far as to say we need to do the same thing with our own story, but that may yet be another post…)

Eve says, “Take up space! It’s your right and destiny! You are created in the image of the divine, for goodness sakes; the pinnacle of all creation!! Walk through your world as the regal, sovereign, and amazing being that you are!”

Eve says, “Say your words! Those that are disruptive. Those that go against the grain. Those that call into question every structure of power, every rule that needs breaking, every line that needs crossing. Speak what is healing, what is authentic, what is deep, and what is true. Your voice ushers the divine right into our midst, and brings a woman’s clarity, strength, and yes, her desire, to the fore – where it belongs, where it is desperately needed, where you belong and where you are needed!”

Eve says, “Claim your desires! Listen to the voice within (remembering that the snake was always seen as a symbol of wisdom) and follow it – no matter what, no matter where. Take. Eat. Devour. Be nourished by. Wipe the juice from your chin – or don’t. And look at yourself in the mirror, through my eyes, as you deserve to be seen and experienced: fully sated, rightfully fed, awake to and alive in all your desire, all your beauty, all your strength!”

Eve also says, “I get it. The costs, the consequences, the fallout: all of these are real when you choose to be big.”

 

PERFECT! That apple cart you are afraid to upset, the Pandora’s Box you are hesitant to open, the s*** that will inevitably hit the fan – this is the very evidence you need to affirm and confirm that you are moving in the right direction, making the right choice(s), doing the right thing(s).

 

Too often we see the ledger of what “big” will cost and, from an ROI standpoint, determine it’s not worth it. I believe it’s just the opposite. That ledger is an Excel sheet of data that tells you to step forward, to show up, to follow Eve’s lead, and to be as big as you possibly can be.

I am not naive – nor are you. None of this is easy. Costs are, well, costs. Consequences are real. And fallout happens. But I would be remiss if I didn’t invite you to name how hard it is to not be big, what that costs you – day after day after day, what those consequences are.

A story: By the time I was in pretty deep to the retelling of these ancient, sacred stories of women, I was also in relationship pretty deep with a man I loved. Though there was much that was good and lovely between us, he did not like the way I told these stories. He found it to be disrespectful of the original text and intention and far too disruptive. No matter my efforts to talk through textual interpretation, the ongoing evolution of theology, even the patriarchal stronghold on religion, the argument continued. And my stance? I’m not happy to admit it, but ‘here goes:

  • I would not take up space – either in the conversation itself or on behalf of these women who deserved my advocacy and care.
  • I would use my words, yes, but in twisty and maneuver-y ways that maybe-just-maybe would be acceptable to him.
  • I would not claim my desires in out-loud or powerful ways because I was convinced that I desired him more than my own integrity.

Over and over again, every time the topic came up, I would ultimately downplay the significance of my own work, my own wisdom, the value of the women themselves and their stories, and my very self. I got smaller and smaller. And that ledger? Well, the list was long of what I would lose if I couldn’t/wouldn’t somehow fit myself into his image of who I should be – and should not be. And I didn’t want to lose those things. I didn’t want to lose him. They mattered to me: laughter, companionship, his relationship with my daughters, the time we spent together, the memories we’d made, the future we could share. I was willing to lose myself. And “small” seemed a small price to pay.

Until it wasn’t small anymore; until it became way too big a price to pay.

On the other side of the ledger, revealed over time, in both tiny glimpses and dramatic-but-excruciating exposure, was my compromise and compliance, the well-learned practice of holding my tongue, the ever-present awareness that I was not being honest, not being my (big) self, not living my external life in alignment with my inner one. And at the end of the day, when I took a good, long look at the spreadsheet, I couldn’t reconcile them. Painful to acknowledge (I can feel it even still – though years have passed) . Heart-breaking to walk away from. And ultimately a simple (though not easy) choice between being big or staying small.

I wish I could tell you that seeing these costs and consequences offered me an immediate spike in adrenalin, strength, and courage; that I was able to simply. walk. away. Nope. It was messy. It took far too long. Not a bit of it went as I might have wished. Here’s what I will tell you, though: every bit of it, even (and maybe especially) the messy parts, have helped me learn what to do next time – far faster and with much more capacity and confidence – in relationships, in my work, in leaving my most recent job, and in response to the insipid and endless cultural demand to conform.

We become big – not all at once, but because we practice….and fail.

We become big because we let a story like Eve’s remind us of who we actually are: here to take up space, to say our words, and to claim our desires. We become big because we choose, day-by-day, hour-by-hour, and sometimes, necessarily, minute-by-minute, to be sovereign – to trust our wisdom, to use our strength, and to soak in the grace that is inherently, always ours to receive and to give. And good news: there is so much more bigness yet to be experienced and expressed within and through us; it’s limitless, expansive, and infinite.

 

We are here to be big, bigger, ginormous! No matter the cost, the consequences, the fallout. Maybe and especially because of them! 

 

Back to Holly Whitaker’s point, once we’ve learned to be big, then we can learn to be small (in the best ways); we can learn to be both at the very same time. Because we are that amazing, that complex, that brilliant, that wise, that strong. All that and then some.

May it be so.

Unraveling “small” on behalf of “big”

Jan 6, 2021 | My sort-of Sermons, Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power

We must learn to be big in a way we’ve never been big – we must claim our right to take up space, to say our words, to claim our desires. We must also learn to be small in a way we’ve never been small – to be in service, led not by our egos or by our desire for material goods or by our fears and aversions, but by our desire to be liberated from these things. And we must do both at the same time. 

I immediately highlighted this quote while reading Holly Whitaker’s book, Quit Like A Woman. I “mmm-hmm’d” out loud. And her words dropped right into my center. You’ve had those experiences, yes? You hear something, read something, see something, and you just know it is deeply, powerfully true. (This happened multiple times throughout: my highest of recommendations!)

We must learn to be big in a way we’ve never been big….We must also learn to be small in a way we’ve never been small… 

Let’s be honest. That first phrase inspires us: We must learn to be big in a way we’ve never been big. ”YES!” we shout to the Universe as we sit up a little taller and feel a little stronger. That second phrase? We must also learn to be small. I’m quite certain it’s on-purpose that it’s named after the first. I’m also quite certain that for most of us, it got our attention, our acknowledgement, and our (re)commitment. No “YES!”, but a resigned awareness, a heavy sigh, and shoulders that slump just the tiniest, imperceptible bit.

So why the different response to each? Both matter – big and small. We hardly disagree with Whitaker’s words.

Here’s why:

Being small is what we default to. It’s what we know to do. It’s what we’ve been conditioned to do our whole lives as girls-then-women. True, at its best, it is a good and lovely thing: to serve, to extend compassion, to put others before ourselves, to tamp down our own desires on behalf of something larger, better, and “other” than us. In many ways, it’s a marker of growth and maturity – this ability and willingness to intentionally choose the higher good over our own.

But…

(You knew one was coming, right?)

We are so good at this that we’ve lost sight of what happens when the “higher good” isn’t anything close and instead, we’re choosing anything and everyone over ourselves, most often without even being aware that it’s happening.

I learned this lesson well growing up and, let me be clear, with the best of intentions; nothing about it was overtly malicious or maligned. You probably learned it, too – among many other things, the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.

My mom had a series of hand motions she taught me so that I could remember. It was like putting on a glove – each word being the slightest tug onto a finger until finally it was completely in place:

Do – thumb
unto – index finger
others – middle finger
as – ring finger
you – pinky finger; then turning your hand around to the other side…
would – pinky finger
have – ring finger
others – middle finger
do – index finger
unto – thumb
you – gently pull the glove down completely, smoothing it out and over your wrist

Translated: be good, be kind, be generous, put others first (because, of course, you want them to put you first…which, oddly, they never seem to do). Don’t gossip, don’t be mean, don’t hit, don’t lie, don’t hurt anyone’s feelings (because, of course, you don’t want them to hurt yours, even though, apparently, they didn’t get the same mnemonic device or memo that I did). And the outcome of this? We become small. The motivation was pure; but over time, it became the very way in which we were diminished and, too often, destroyed – one word, one finger, one glove, one “do unto others” at a time. We look up – now in our teens or twenties or thirties or forties or fifties or sixties (you get the idea) – and wonder how, where, and when we disappeared.

We’ve gotten so good at these behaviors, at being small, that we’ve defined ourselves by their presence and consistency, shamed ourselves when we’ve fallen short, and lost ourselves in the process. 

 

Which is why Holly Whitaker also says this:

Perhaps before we can learn to be both big and small at the same time, we first have to learn to be big…I’ve had to learn to get big, in order to practice being small. 

…practice being small.

This is what we need where small is concerned. Most of us don’t actually know how to be small in ways that don’t consume us or find us constantly complying and compromising. We need to learn.

What if small doesn’t mean losing space or strength or power or voice? What if small doesn’t mean sacrificing self? What if small doesn’t mean apologizing or taking the back burner or being patient (yet again)?

If any of these things are true (note: all of them are), then Whitaker is right: we need lots of practice.

…we first have to learn to be big.

(It’s my next blog post, I promise.)

 

I have learned that before I can even hope to step into new ways of being, big ways of being, sovereign ways of being, I have to unravel and deconstruct my known ways, my common ways, the part of me that feels like DNA. I have to look under the rug and into the dark corners of my mind. I have to be willing to acknowledge (without shame) the lessons I’ve incorporated over a lifetime – from whom and why – and then begin playing those tapes s l o w l y forward – watching each scene unfold. I must look at individual narratives (those I’ve been told and those I tell myself), watch myself within them, and with massive grace, begin-and-continue-to understand how I’ve become who I am.

I have done a lot of this in the past twenty years. It’s not been easy or simple – this thread-by-thread, story-by-story unraveling of all that’s made me who I am.

 

I go through seasons in which I take up either knitting or crocheting – another thing my mom taught me. I love the practice of it, the experience, the rhythm, the calm. It comes to mind right now – as it relates to unraveling.

If I’m crocheting and I spot a mistake I can quickly unravel to that point and nothing is at risk. The yarn and loops and twists all stay in place when you crochet. It only unravels when I unravel it – with little-to-no risk. Unlike knitting…

When I spot a mistake while knitting I now have to make a very difficult decision: do I fix it, or not? To unravel means that I have to painstakingly unloop each stitch and, simultaneously, put its predecessor back on the needle. I can’t pull too hard. I can’t stop in-process. If I succumb to my frustration or impatience, it can’t be salvaged.

Here’s the thing: I often choose crocheting because of this very reason. It’s far easier – both to fix and to finish! But were I given the choice of a completed blanket or sweater or scarf (that someone else made for me), I’d choose something knitted. It is more complex. It is more smooth. It is more elegant. It is more beautiful, at least to my eye.

My life is not crocheted. Nor is yours. We’re knitted together. And to unravel that knitting, those stories, those DNA-level lessons, is precarious work indeed, not to be taken lightly, and requires great intention, patience, and care – as well as a deep commitment to the value of the fixand the finished “product” we’re working toward.

To step into the life we long to live – to be big, we must claim our right to take up space, to say our words, to claim our desires. But that cannot happen, at least at full capacity and glory and amazing-ness, until we understand why “small” feels far more natural, far easier. We must understand why it has been required of us – even demanded (hint: patriarchy). To be big, we must unravel our stories of small. Then we can begin (re)creating; row after row of experiences and decisions and characteristics and ways of being that are informed by how small (at least as we’ve been trained to understand and express it) has not done us enough favors, what being big requires of us, and who we are when we can finally choose both.

 

*****

 

The word I use for all of this – the work of becoming all of who you are, stepping into your deep and inherent wisdom, demonstrating strength, and extending yourself (and others) grace along the way is SOVEREIGNTY.

If you’re intrigued by this conversation, want more of it, and are committed to being 100% yourself, 100% of the time (big AND small), I’d love for you to join my Facebook Group. Let’s do this together.

[Photo by Marina Ermakova on Unsplash]

Go Deeper Still, Still…

Dec 31, 2020 | Hope & Encouragement, My sort-of Sermons, Sovereignty, Spirituality, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom, Writing

(I first published this post on 12/31/14. It seems to me to be as relevant as ever.)

Go deeper still…

You already know this: there is profound wisdom, strength, beauty, and grace that lies in wait – deep within you. When you listen, when you trust, when you are honest, it’s what only you can hear. It’s your voice. And it tells you to stand, to rise, to sing, to create, to dance, to write, to speak, to weep, to preach, to scream, to dream, to desire, to hope, to love, to be…you.

Go deeper still.
Beneath the layers of cultural messaging and familial patterns.

Go deeper still.
Beneath the relational rules and patterns that twist and contort.

Go deeper still.
Beneath the voices – within and without – that shout you into silence.

Go deeper still.
Beneath the shame that suffocates.

Go deeper still.
Beneath economic restraint that (seemingly) hinders.

Go deeper still.
Beneath the religious constructs that bind.

Go deeper still.
Beneath the ego’s incessant drone that causes you to recede.

Go deeper still.

There, beneath all of this (and deeper still) beats your heart. And there, in that deep and solid and gorgeous you, is all you’ve ever needed, all you will ever need. The confirmation. The affirmation. The certainty. The will. The sovereignty. The profound wisdom, strength, beauty, and grace that is (already) yours. That IS you.

Ahhhhhhh.

I know…

Just as quickly as you descend, you are pulled – coughing and spluttering –  to the surface. Your practiced, poised, and “appropriate” self already anticipates the problems, the risks, the consequences of letting that voice, that you, out. You will most certainly be misunderstood.

Exactly!

You are not here to be understood. You are here to be you.

Which is why you must go deeper still. Into the very womb of your truest self where you are fluent in your heart’s language, where you are certain of your knowing, where you are whole, complete, not lacking for anything, and at rest. Where you are sovereign. Where your profound wisdom, strength, beauty, and grace lies in wait.

And just so you know: none of this, this you, is going anywhere. And we can (and will) wait.

I’m wondering though…Can you?

It’s time to go deeper still.

May it be so.

*****

This “deeper still” place is what I’m committed to on your behalf (and my own). It’s what I invite you to and support through A Sunday Letter, through Sacred Readings, and through my 1:1 work via Coaching or Spiritual Direction.  

Go deeper still…

You already know this: there is profound wisdom, strength, beauty, and grace that lies in wait – deep within you. When you listen, when you trust, when you are honest, it’s what only you can hear. It’s your voice. And it tells you to stand, to rise, to sing, to create, to dance, to write, to speak, to weep, to preach, to scream, to dream, to desire, to hope, to love, to be…you.

 

Go deeper still.
Beneath the layers of cultural messaging and familial patterns.

Go deeper still.
Beneath the relational rules and patterns that twist and contort.

Go deeper still.
Beneath the voices – within and without – that shout you into silence.

Go deeper still.
Beneath the shame that suffocates.

Go deeper still.
Beneath economic restraint that (seemingly) hinders.

Go deeper still.
Beneath the religious constructs that bind.

Go deeper still.
Beneath the ego’s incessant drone that causes you to recede.

Go deeper still.

There, beneath all of this (and deeper still) beats your heart. And there, in that deep and solid and gorgeous you, is all you’ve ever needed, all you will ever need. The confirmation. The affirmation. The certainty. The will. The sovereignty. The profound wisdom, strength, beauty, and grace that is (already) yours. That IS you.

 

Ahhhhhhh.

 

I know…

Just as quickly as you descend, you are pulled – coughing and spluttering –  to the surface. Your practiced, poised, and “appropriate” self already anticipates the problems, the risks, the consequences of letting that voice, that you, out. You will most certainly be misunderstood.

Exactly!

You are not here to be understood. You are here to be you.

Which is why you must go deeper still. Into the very womb of your truest self where you are fluent in your heart’s language, where you are certain of your knowing, where you are whole, complete, not lacking for anything, and at rest. Where you are sovereign. Where your profound wisdom, strength, beauty, and grace lies in wait.

And just so you know: none of this, this you, is going anywhere. And we can (and will) wait.

I’m wondering though…Can you?

It’s time to go deeper still.

May it be so.

 

*****

 

This “deeper still” place is what I’m committed to on your behalf (and my own). It’s what I invite you to and support through A Sunday Letter, through Sacred Readings, and through my 1:1 work via Coaching or Spiritual Direction.  SOVEREIGNTY – my live, 9-week program that speaks to all of this and then some. In the meantime (and ongoing), please join me in my SOVEREIGNTY Facebook Group. It’s time to go deeper still – and I want to make this journey with you.

If we could have coffee together…

Dec 7, 2020 | Hope & Encouragement, My sort-of Sermons, Sacred Stories, Spirituality, Women's Voice & Power

If you and I were sitting across from each other, sipping coffee, it would be inevitable that eventually I would tell you stories.

Stories of ancient, sacred women who have miraculously stepped into my life, who have spoken into it, who have gifted me with the honor of speaking on their behalf.

I would tell you the story of Hagar, the Woman at the Well, and the nothing-short-of-glorious Woman of Revelation 12. I would tell you of Eve – of course! And Mary Magdalene and Hagar and the Persistent Widow and Jairus’ Daughter and Lot’s Wife and Noah’s Wife and Job’s Wife. (Yes, I wish they had names, too.)

I would recite an infinite list, filled with the ways in which each of them have been a transformational part of my story; about all that happened when I allowed myself to imagine their voices, their experiences, and their wisdom. 

I would tell you about how all of these stories and so many more, have been buried under centuries of patriarchy and religion’s doctrine and dogma (in which I don’t conspire).

I would tell you about how all of this has silenced their voices, often shamed them, left them misunderstood and frequently maligned, and worst of all, forgotten. And this is hardly unique to them – but the VERY thing that has happened to us. It’s a direct correlation: our stories, our voices have been buried, silenced, and filled with shame. We’ve been misunderstood and often maligned. 

Stories have to be told or they die, and when they die, we can’t remember who we are or why we are here. ~ Sue Monk Kidd

I’d tell you what they’d tell you: “Your story is NOT to be mine! No more silence, shame, or misunderstanding. Live the story that we long for on your behalf – one filled with voice, courage, beauty, brilliance, and grace!”

And I’d tell you how I’ve been about this work for nearly 20 years now – curating these women’s stories, remembering them, reimagining and redeeming them, letting them speak. First, for them. It’s what they deserve. Second, for me – for my own story and my insatiable hunger for women’s wisdom – spoken on my behalf. And third, for you – because your story, your reality, your life deserves to be companioned, accompanied, supported, and strengthened by these stories; by women who know exactly what you feel, who know exactly who you have the capacity to be, when you remember, reimagine, and redeem your story.  

I write because there are stories that people have forgotten to tell, because I am a woman trying to stand up in my life. ~ Natalie Goldberg

This would be the stuff of more than just one cup of coffee, to be sure…

So, I do all of this through Readings: one woman’s story that will come alongside you in the New Year and offer you all of what you deserve to hear and know – the story you deserve to live!

The process of storytelling is itself a healing process, partly because you have someone there who is taking the time to tell you a story that has great meaning to them. They’re taking the time to do this because your life could use some help, but they don’t want to come over and just give advice. They want to give it to you in a form that becomes inseparable from your whole self. That’s what stories do. Stories differ from advice in that, once you get them, they become a fabric of your whole soul. That is why they heal you. ~ Alice Walker

These stories, the women within them, and every bit of their wisdom – honored in 2021 Readings are 50% off for a limited time – because I want you to have the healing they’ve given me.

*****

[In lieu of the gift of time and generous conversation over coffee, please reach out to me with any questions that come up for you about Readings – for yourself or as gift for someone else. I so want you to know why, with everything that’s in me, I believe in their power. [email protected]]

Photo by Brigitte Tohm on Unsplash

Remember who you are

Nov 23, 2020 | My sort-of Sermons, Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power, Writing

I was in a queer mood, thinking myself very old; but now I am a woman again – as I always am when I write.

I love this quote from Virginia Woolf.

Given that my birthday is just a week away, it takes on new and deeper meaning. By all manner of cultural definitions, I am not only thinking myself very old, I actually am! 

Let me be quick to say that there is a chasm of difference between what the culture has to say and what I know-believe-feel. That’s not to say I don’t, from time to time, hear the insipid voices within that love to conspire with the ones without. Which, again, is why I love her words.

Those voices – the ones within and without –
can be so noisy, so constant, so overwhelming,
that we forget who we are.

I WANT YOU TO REMEMBER.

I get it. It’s not all that hard to feel disjointed: wearing multiple hats, playing a myriad of roles, adapting, nurturing, creating, birthing, cleaning, working, laboring, loving. We loose our footing. We find ourselves in a “queer mood.” We forget who we actually are. 

So how are we to remember? 

Take Virginia Woolf’s words as gospel. Express all of yourself – with complete permission and unfettered freedom. Nothing less will do. 

Words.
Thoughts.
Emotions.
Ideas.
Dreams.
Desires.
Revolutions.

Uncensored.
Unedited.
Unguarded.
Impossible to quell. 

Remember?   

Oh, that’s right! Now I remember. I am whole, complete, broken, tentative, powerful, tender, amazing, wise, strong, vulnerable, grounded, undone, spontaneous, angry, passionate, beautiful, smart, funny…myself. Now I am a woman again.

My hope for you is that you come home to yourself through whatever it is that gives you complete permission and unfettered freedom to express everything. No holding back. Whether writing, journaling, screaming into your pillow, recording a voice memo that tells the whole story – from your perspective, in your words, through your lens – taking a long walk with only the birds hearing your deepest heart. 

You, when expressed, returns you to yourself, makes you most yourself, and enables you to give yourself, yet again, to your world in the most powerful and undeniable of ways. 

And that you? Well, that’s the one we long for, desire, and need to have step forward in all the glory befitting the sovereign, regal, and wise woman you already are. 

Remember her?

May it be so. 

**********

It’s true: my birthday is just a week away. And as has been true in the past, the gift-giving is from me to you. I am offering New Year Readings at a special price…because I want you to hear impossible-to-quell expression that is 100% on your behalf; filled with all the reminders you need to be YOU in the year ahead. SUBSCRIBE to get the details as soon as they’re released! 

She was a voice

Nov 16, 2020 | Hope & Encouragement, My sort-of Sermons, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom, Writing

I ordered and read The Book of Longings last week. Written by Sue Monk Kidd, author of The Secret Life of Bees and The Dance of the Dissident Daughter (required reading for any woman who grew up in the church), it is the imagined story of Ana – wife of Jesus.

I won’t give the plot away, nor is that what this post is about; rather, the prayer Ana recites, cherishes, and lives into:

…Bless the largeness inside me, no matter how I fear it. Bless my reed pens and my inks. Bless the words I write. May they be beautiful in your sight. May they be visible to eyes not yet born. When I am dust, sing these words over my bones: she was a voice.

She was a voice.

She was a voice.

This nearly takes my breath away. 

But not before I inhale deeply – and then exhale an inexhaustible stream of words and emotions about how profoundly I long for this to be true. For me, to be sure. For my daughters. For my friends. For you. For countless women of the past who were not given voice (and about whom I write).

For too many women, yet today, who are still silenced – because of patriarchy, political realities, racism, bigotry, abusive marriages, fear, oppressive corporate structures, a predominant culture that blatantly prefers us quiet and compliant. The list goes on. 

Still, she was a voice.

More powerful than all that holds us down and back, within and without, is exactly that for which Ana prays:

sing these words over my bones: she was a voice.

A woman’s voice heralds wisdom.

A woman’s voice offers truth.

A woman’s voice brings justice.

A woman’s voice articulates desire.

A woman’s voice invites hope.

 

And without a woman’s voice? Well, that explains everything, yes? The lack of wisdom, truth, justice, desire, and hope. The list goes on.

If we want a world defined by wisdom, truth, justice, desire, and hope, then we must be a voice.

 

We are the ones who speak into being the life and reality we long for. This is the largeness within us…

No matter how we fear it.

Be the voice. The voice that you alone can express and embody. The voice that whispers and shouts within. The voice all of us long to hear – and already know dwells within you. Beautiful. Powerful. True.

She was a voice. May it be so.

My voice comes forth, at least in part, by reimagining and recreating the voices of other women – some you’ve heard of, many you have not. I do this through Readings – the personalized and powerful voice of one woman who speaks into your story in bold and winsome ways – who is already choosing you. 

I’m days away from making 2021 New Year Readings available (with an amazing discount!) All the wisdom, truth, justice, desire, and hope you desire and deserve as you (finally) put 2020 behind you and step boldly, courageously, and beautifully into all that is ahead – including your voice! SIGN UP to be the first to hear.

[Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash]