I’ve been searching the archive of my emotions, looking for the root source of the notion that love is easy. Romantic comedies and new age bookstores. Glossy hopes, like my prom picture and all those journals I burned. Smiling martyrs and serene Saints.

Love. Just love. Love makes it easier. Just love and it’s easy. Easy. To Love. Love flows. Love graces. Love doesn’t grind. It doesn’t wince. It doesn’t lug. Love ain’t heavy. Love is light.

Right?

Somewhere in all this I got snagged and questioned my capacity to love. Thinking that if I was resentful, or felt burden, or a little on the crank whilst I was dishing out the love, then it wasn’t … love. It was faux love, pseudo Buddhist, fallen Catholic, contrived agape. Unlove. Not quite right.

Wrong.

It’s still love. Jagged, cranky, lip bitten, heavy sighing. On delivery, it becomes love.

It’s the intention that reaches.
The surmounting that teaches.
Good, hard, real love.

Create a “What I Trust List”. Whenever you need it.

FOCUS ON THE PRESENT. The whole point of this exercise is to access the trust that already lives in your being. It’s not about generating new trust, or visualizing outcomes, or affirming your way into positive thinking. Those techniques are useful, but they can also turn into mind tricks. We’re concentrating on presence here.

Sometimes, the fact of the matter is that you don’t fully trust that something will work out in you’re favour. You have doubts, you’re anxious, you have reason to be cautious – and you’re going for it anyway. This is the definition of courage: Regardless of concerns, I’m givin’ ‘er! It’ll be easier to give ‘er if you’re anchored to what’s already working in your life.

WRITE IT OUT. It’s important that your What I Trust List be written, out. The movement, hand to vision, will help your psyche take in the comfort. Imagine that your mind is like a lung, inhaling and exhaling as you account for all that you know to be true. Ahhhh.

SPEAK IT OUT. If you’re an audio-learner, speak it out. Leave yourself a voicemail, or a voice-memo on your mobile, or talk to yourself. Kindly.

STREAM YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS. Just let it pour out – but, again, don’t include things that you don’t fully have trust in. It’s okay if your list is short. Brevity is better than bravado. It could be one word if that’s what feels true. It could be six pages in your daytimer if that’s real.

I trust my love for… I trust my integrity. I trust how much my mama loves me. … I trust that my guides are watching out for me. … I trust that she’ll be there when I call. … I trust that there’s always another idea. … I trust that I can always get a job. …

GO “OBVIOUS” IF YOU NEED TO. Nothing is too great or too small to put your trust in. Sometimes the most basic and primal things will give you a boost, especially if you’re finding it difficult to think of things that you fully trust in.

I trust my next breath will keep coming. … I trust the sun will rise tomorrow. … I trust Sparky will be wagging his tail when I walk in the door. … I trust that the snow will melt. …

Trust now. Trust in The Now. Consciously access what you know to be positively, life-affirmingly true. And that sureness will become a bridge to what’s possible.

I have a painter friend whose art sells for $10,000 a painting. She routinely paints over pieces that are for sale in her gallery. It could have been better, she says.

I’ve gotten standing ovations for speaking gigs. “Meh, I give myself a B. Coulda been better.”

Here’s the confession: I always feel like I’m failing. And succeeding. And failing. And succeeding. And failing.

I’m not masochistic. My glass is not ‘half full’, it is oceanic. I feel sturdy and ripe. But The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Thing…. it’s as steady as the green of my eyes.

If you’re committed to the sacred strive, The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Thing will always be along for the ride.

… In your speech, your craft, your work. Pleasing your lover, planting your garden, dispensing your accumulated knowledge. You can make masterpieces. Daily. You can please some people, get a raise, fire up your kundalini, you can hit it out of the park and sleep like a satiated baby that night. And then in she glides, to sit in the chair in the corner of your room: The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Thing.

She’s an angel, I tell you. An angel.
You are not insecure, neurotic, defective, obsessive, or unappreciative.
(Well, maybe you are, but not because you experience The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Angel.)
Coexisting with The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Angel is part of making art.
She is as reliable as your creative impulses.
She comes bearing invitations. To more.

The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Angel is able to enter because you left your heart open.
Leave it open.
You have to.
To make more stuff.
To make it better, so that we evolve and bring one another along for the ride.
Where demons get to be angels if you look at them the right way.

do not wait for special occasions.
do not tuck your best away in the drawers, in the back of the closet, in your heart.
don’t wait for holidays or invitations.

declare that your today is the special occasion.

call instead of emailing. (it feels so good to connect.)
go for coffee.

quit.

renounce your glory days. you’ve told all of those stories more than twice.
focus forward.

wear perfume for yourself. toss your only-wear-around-the-house clothes and let your good clothes graduate to around-the-house status.
intend to feel good all of the time.

write your book.

launch.

make great sex a priority. (this alone will make you more creative and free. on your death bed, you will think about all the great sex you had this lifetime.)

burn your to-do list.

write poetry. One a day.

make a point to be as encouraging as possible, as much as possible, to everyone possible.

don’t look back.

if you feel like you’re always failing, consider that this is part of being an artist. let it be a divine inclination. keep going.

enter.

leave.

eat real food.

often refuse to be in the presence of people who make you feel repressed, anxious, or pull your frequency down.

do not entertain haters.

send light to the haters.

give it away. you probably don’t need it and someone else does.

turn off the tv.

let it be easy.

burn candles. during the day.

fall in love. with yourself. with the person you’re with. with the persons in your orbit.
because no one is perfect, but you can let the love be perfect for the both of you.
because everyone — everyone — is a doorway to God.
because you can get there from here.

because life is short.

If focusing was easy, everyone would being doing it.

This is where a lot of motivational ra-rah fails us: “Just focus. Zero in, prioritize, it’s easy when you …just focus.” True, things do get exponentially easier when you hone in on your objective. But the actual choosing of what to focus on can be excruciating. It sucks to delay great projects. Pacing yourself is a drag. It can feel downright masochistic to say no to juicy opportunities.

When we recognize the fact that focusing can hurt, then we can face it directly, make better decisions about where we’re directing our energy, and move on more quickly toward success. The act of focusing requires contraction, ruthlessness, and deafening resolve. Wince. And then come the sweet relief.

Medicine tastes bad. Swig it back.
It hurts to say goodbye. Your plane is leaving.
Focusing can be painful. Make your choices.

focus.

1. Grieve for your ideas, the ones that will never see the light of day. Pruned. Aborted. Not meant to be. Under-resourced. Not as shiny as all your other ideas. Bye bye idea. You made me feel more creative, sassy, sexy. Thanks for passing through. Some ideas are only meant to flirt with you — quick confidence boosts on your way to lasting passion.
2. Bow respectfully to time, like it’s your honorable Jujitsu partner. Einstein said, “Time exists so that everything doesn’t happen at once.” What a beautiful, agonizing truth. Because when you’re on fire with ideas and things to make-do-build, don’t you wish it could all just happen at once? Time and gravity. Part of the human deal. Inescapable, really. Thankfully. Sometimes.
3. Put some ideas in escrow. They will wait for you. Patiently ripening.
4. Trust your muse. She may like to blurt stuff out at you at 4am, muses tend to be impulsive. But she also knows that one nuked idea will lead to another that is destined to be manifested.
5. Get off on the pain. As in it hurts so good to focus. When it sucks to set ten ideas aside and choose only one, relish in the agony, like an athlete loves the burn. You are getting ahead.

focus.
essential.
friction.
infinitely illuminating.

How to accomplish great things quickly: when quick n’ dirty is totally genius: fast can make something that lasts. Don’t censor your passion in the name of practicality. Believe. Trust. Lock into your deadlines, SET THAT BAR HIGHER AND FOCUS…

Playground problem solving: 4 pithy, rock solid truths that can be applied to pretty much anything… by my sage 7 year old. STEP #1: BE BRAVE…

In honour of the fact that life is short: ecstatic sex, quitting, and wearing your best: Don’t tuck your best away in drawers, in the back of the closet, or in your heart. Stop waiting for that special occasion. Let your work flow from divine inclination. Disregard the haters (and the TV). FIERCELY LOVE YOUR TRUTH, FACE FORWARD, FORGE AHEAD…

Falling into your joy: a winter solstice love letter with a soundtrack: A letter from me to you, complete with a tune list. Fiery passion, fresh ink, fresh products and big dreams. I should be exhausted — but I’m broken open with gratitude. TUMBLE INTO IRRESISTABLE BLISS…

A prayer for expectation addicts: show up. Shine. Let it go.: A sermon on presence, and how expectations can shrink your shine. A prayer I came up with in those stressful hours between meetings, hustling my weightiest dreams. When the dreaming, scheming, strategizing, and praying are over: release the need to expect. Expectation liberation is the new black. STYLE UP…

3 conversations on fear wrangling, entrepreneuring your life, and as always, love: A collection of lovely, laughing interviews with a few of my favorite people. We’re discussing fear of failure, dealing with saboteurs and how fear can be useful. TUNE IN…

And last, but most certainly not least… timelessly blessing now (a poem for starting and continuing)

Love now.

2. I once believed that I was destined to marry Steve Winwood. I was wildly convinced that he was The One for me and shamelessly told everyone we were getting married.

3. Speaking of hot men, I think Michael Franti’s Love Kamikaze – The lost singles & remix (only available on special import CD) is the sexiest sexy stuff ever laid down on disc.

4. I’ve had angelic experiences.

5. I don’t eat mushrooms, onions, or tofu. I’m allergic to lilies and codine. (That’s 5 things.)

6. I’ve never had a cup of coffee. Not even a sip.

7. I think too many people marry the wrong people. And…I think too many people get divorced too soon.

8. I have extreme judgement for parents who put their kids on leashes (like you see at malls.) It’s lazy and it’s mean.

9. Being called Missy, Girl, Maam, or M’Dear is very difficult for me.

10. I don’t mind paying taxes.

11. My favourite movie of all time is The Piano. BTW, what you don’t see at the end of this clip — is that she frees herself and lives.

12. I think long marriage engagements are a cop out. Things do change when you makes vows.

13. I feel like I’m in a constant state of prayer.

14. I am an obsessive recycler. If the hotel I’m staying in doesn’t recycle, I’ll bring the plastic bottles home with me in my suitcase.

15. Last year, I burned all of my journals (starting from age 13), except my Moleskine notebooks from the last two years because they contain outlines for my next five books. However, I did go through those notebooks and tear out (and burn) all entries of painful happenings.

16. I am perpetually torn about being nocturnal and wanting to convert into a morning person. I’m thinking of getting up at 4am. It’d be both super late, and super early.

17. I want to learn a lot more about crystals, olives, sound recording, and mystic nuns.

. . . . . .

one more thing worth mentioning:
There is a Pay What You Can Day coming up. Here. Because new things are being hatched. Soon. And because Pay What You Can Days are crazy fun. Watch closely.

Some really hot things will be happening here in 2012. Until then, here’s a whole lotta me with some of my favorite people. In the following interviews with you will hear me talk about fear of failure (mine) and my theory on desire with the ever radiant, Kate Northrup. And then Tanya Geisler (who is geyser-like in her energy and love), gets me to talk about dealing with my saboteurs (and yours). And then the smart n’ down-to-earth radio host, Koren Motekaitis gets me going on the utility of fear.

It may sound like a lot of fear-ful-ness, but it’s really about doing a whole lot of shine-ful-ness. And getting off your fat fears to rise to the occasion of your life. So tune in, please.

I’ll see you in 2012. So soon. And it will be hotter than ever. I promise.

Om Shanti,

deep laughs + insights with:

Great Q’s + Uncontrollable Giggles, Glimpse TV with Kate Northrup. VIDEO. CLICK HERE TO WATCH.

Thing Finding with Tanya Geisler. VIDEO. CLICK HERE TO WATCH.

How She Really Does It With Koren Motekaitis. RADIO. CLICK HERE TO LISTEN.

Which brings me to the present. Essentially, this is a sermon on presence. Because when you’re showing up in the now, you don’t have time to expect much. You’re focused on the give, not the get.

This fall I traveled to NYC twice in four weeks. To hustle. Name a major women’s lifestyle magazine. Name any of them. I’ve probably been to their office, in cashmere, talking about the meaning of life and how to be a fire starter. One particular meeting was, in my mind, incredibly high stakes. “If I land this, it’ll change, like, my grandchildren’s lives.” I don’t have grandchildren. Just biggie dreams. I lost sleep over that meeting. I prayed, meditated, worked with my advisor, rubbed my mala beads, strategized and agonized with my crazy sexy and out-fucking-standing soul sisters. Ready as I’ll ever be.

It doesn’t really matter how the meeting went (very well,) or what the outcome is (it’s just the beginning,) here’s the net gain:

show up.
shine.
let it go.

When I left that meeting, something shifted deep in me. Something I wasn’t, expecting. Out went the adrenaline, in streamed the calm. It was a little bit of Samadhi on Park Avenue. I got it: lay down the expectations. Be done with them. Will? Never. She’s my paintbrush, my potion, my lucidity. But, expectations shrink your shine and weigh you down with worry and equations. I’m more interested in my art and connecting with what’s in front of me.

Expectation liberation is the new black. Style up.

A PRAYER FOR RECOVERING EXPECTATION ADDICTS

Lord, Shiva, Yaweh, Saraswati, [insert your own deities here] pimp my shizzle and deliver me to where it’s best.

Yess’m, Jesus, life, cosmic intelligence, Milky Way Magi, take the wheel.

I know you’ve got my back. I know that you know how intensely my heart burns, how sweet is the honey at the center of my center, how much I am capable of. And God knows (that’d be you) how game I am to collaborate with you to make good stuff happen.

I accept my calling: to show up and shine. Unfurled and honest. Determined to be only that which I am.

I’m here to give…my all.

I trust that pure intention counts for plentiful support.

I trust we’ll get where I’m going, together — once I learn to be where I am.

I’ll go make my art now.

I have faith that you’ve got the rest covered.

Amen. Om shanti. Shalom.

You can only do what ONLY YOU can do.
Do that.
The universe will configure around your very best efforts.
Willingly.

If all calendars were destroyed and I spun ‘round like a Sufi, I might guess that seven years passed in this one. Last New Year’s Eve I was taking bandages off my heart. The newness stung. In February, my boy from heaven turned seven. And with my freshly exfoliated soul, I saw my husband in a new light — a year apart, regular yoga, blue green algae, Santa Fe transformation, colonics, enzyme peels, new tattoos, astrological readings, channeled assessments, creative coaching, psychotherapy, incredible integral coaching, reiki, tango lessons, intuitive naturopathy, copious mantras, and divorce papers waiting to be signed… will shift your perspective. Something fierce. Guaranteed.

And from ashes sprouted passion flowers and like, wow, new love. So we shacked up. And called it for what it was: a lusty golden miracle that super exceeded our dreams of how incredible lusty golden miracles can be. Walking through the fire always yields greater goodness. It’s particularly awesome when the father of your child is waiting on the side of it.

{soundtrack: Over The Hills & Faraway, Led Zeppelin}

Like the Velveteen rabbit got to be real, I took my digital love child and turned it into a bound, paper, BOOK. Because I loved it so hard it came to life, because some hard-workin’ women at The Biggie Publishing Haus said, “We see you.” And then I said, “I’ve been waiting to be seen.” And soon, YOU too will see and hold THE FIRE STARTER SESSIONS: A SOULFUL + PRACTICAL GUIDE TO CREATING SUCCESS ON YOUR OWN TERMS. (Yes, yes, you CAN pre-order it already!!!) In January I’ll be throwing a baby shower for the book. And it will be bountiful.

{soundtrack: Yell Fire, Michael Franti}

I should be exhausted. I have every right to adrenal fatigue and plum tuckeredness. This year I sold a place, bought a place, moved two domiciles into one, racked up airmile points, pitched my love to Conde Nast and Hearst power girls, launched YOUR BIG BEAUTIFUL BOOK PLAN, delivered a private commission book to lululemon, and had some serious dental work done (I’m hard to freeze. I think that’s a beautiful metaphor for life, but it’s a tough reality when working with molars.) But I’m not tired. I’m…elated, seek-ful, STOKED.

{soundtrack: Oh Lord Is It Mine, Supertramp’s Roger Hodgson

+ Let’s Get It Started, The Black Eyed Peas}

I gave up resistance for Lent. As my beloved friend, Donna puts it, “I’ve allowed myself to fall in to my joy.”

Fall into your joy.

Fall into your joy.

Fall into your joy.

Don’t you love this notion? It implies that bliss is your core, foundational, sturdy, structural and formless. True nature. Always there. Waiting. Now.

{soundtrack: The World As I See It, Jason Mraz}

I went weeks without wheat. And felt high(er). I healed some allergies, rather miraculously. I juiced, and juiced, and juiced some more.

I’m going to re-learn how to knit. Everyone I’ve ever met in my life will be getting a giant cashmere muffler next year. I’m giving up baking. Not that I ever really baked. But I tried to be one of those moms recently and it’s just not in the cards for me. I kill bake goods like some people kill plants. True strengths. I’m stickin’ to ‘em.

{soundtrack: As, Stevie Wonder}

My heart feels like a star. I want for nothing and everything all at once. I am broken open with gratitude day to day. I remain perpetually critical, easily infuriated by poor customer service, and zealously irked by people who don’t bother to think things through. Pffft. And…I am more loving today than I was this time last year. Deeply and evidently so. I plan to say the same thing this time next year.

It’s all so precious. And rock solid.

Fall into your joy.

With Great Love,

PS… one for the road: Awake My Soul, Mumford & Sons

PPS… joy. fall. in to it. xo