There’s an ancient sacred story told of a woman who was beautifully, lavishly, even shockingly extravagant.

Desiring love, she risked. Potential misunderstanding. Certain ridicule and scorn. Whispers, shouts, and most certainly shame. None of it mattered. Only the experience and expression of love. Compelled by love, she held nothing back. Unrestrained and passionate, her deepest heart revealed and exposed. A recipient of love, she gave. Generously, without thought to prudence, scarcity, boundary, or anyone else’s ideas of what was appropriate (or not).

Because of all this, she knew extravagant response:

Worthy of love, she was honored. All shame erased. All spoken and unspoken bonds broken. All penalties paid. Freedom hers. “Truly, I say to you, wherever good news is spoken in the world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.”


There’s so much I love about this story, so much I love about her. But most of all this: Her love was pre-determined, her actions hers alone, and NONE of this dependent on the response she might (or might not) receive. That is extravagance, right there.

And that, right there, calls forth the truest, most honest expression of self we could possibly hope to attain.

Want to be more authentic? Want to live in a brave and connected-to-the-Sacred- Feminine way? Here’s the template:

Hold nothing back.
Be extravagant.

And all as expression of the love that is yours to offer; the Love that is you!

Extravagant, indeed.

This woman calls us to be exactly who we are: risky, honest, generous, and completely compelled by (not for) the love that already dwells within us; the love that defines us; the Love that is us!

When we are truly ourselves, we can be nothing other. And this is extravagant, indeed.


Be assured, I’m hardly preaching here – other than to the choir. I’m working diligently on these ideas/practices in my own life. For I intuitively know that this is the way in which I am to be. The afraid, protective part of me is, well, afraid and protective. It’s true: I’ve been hurt before, the love I’ve expressed has not always been returned, and the risks have often felt far too costly. With a closer and more honest look though, I can see that these memories and experiences also carried my expectation, my desire demand for love’s return and a reward/recompense for being oh-so-generous and eh-hmm, loving. This is not my truest self. This is not my truest nature. This is not the Sacred radiating forth through my life. And this is not extravagant.

So what if, even in the smallest of moments and slightest of ways, I could move through my world as the glorious being I most truly am?

What if I were to risk because it’s a thrill; because I’m strong enough to handle it?

What if I were to hold nothing back – in my relationships, to be sure, but also in my writing, my parenting, my friendships, my self-care? What if I gave little-to-no thought to what’s in it for me, and instead, just gave, period?

What if I were extravagant?

Though a rhetorical question, I already know the answer. I would be me. I would be Love. And I would reflect the Divine.

May it be so.


If my writing resonates, I’d be honored if you’d subscribe to A Sunday Letter. Long-form, from me to you, every week. Learn more.