Creatives want to quit.

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I am trained as an actor and a health coach. I have fancy pieces of paper speaking to the time spent studying and practicing both.

When I was a child I was fascinated by plants. I remember science experiments growing plants in the dark. 

I dream of living on a farm. Goats. Pigs. Gardens overflowing with tomatoes.

Sometimes I think about opening a bar that makes homemade soups and breads and has a wall of tequilas in fancy bottles with vintage glasses decorating the space. And wine. Lots of wine.

I want to have a store filled with plants and vintage collections and art and people gathering and being in community. I imagine my daughter running it so I can continue to travel and live location independent.

Building a business with my love, my partner in life, gives me goosebumps of excitement and possibility to create something that could allow us to create even more freedom together.

My dream now, that I'm so close to believing, includes real estate and rentals and making homes.

Nothing I do makes sense and it is all perfect. Because it is desire led.

I release dreams all the time. 

I manifest dreams all the time.

I am scared all the time.


I do.

I feel.

I create.

My dream from the start was to have a thriving, small business. To do small in amazing ways. To reach as many women as I can hold space for and to allow those women to then go and gift others with their magic. Movement like water. Flowing from idea to idea, teaching to teaching, heart to heart.

I'd rather read a business book than a novel and when I do I am converting the language and the ideas into magic making. 

And still. I am afraid. I worry about being a fraud. Of not knowing enough. I question my intelligence. I cry during launches. 

As I am crying I am remembering you. Why I do this. Why it matters. Why I question everything and then move through it to the other side because of you. 

The woman who steps into circle with a dream.
The woman who steps into circle with so many ideas she feels overwhelmed.
The woman who is creating magic and wants to infuse it all around her.
The woman who is lost in her life and knows there is something more.
The woman who can't stop thinking about a life working for herself rather than in an office. The woman that burns with passion.
The woman who craves freedom.
The woman that falls to her knees in prayer when it all is falling apart.
The woman that desires other women as friends, mentors, guides.
The woman that knows this life holds more gifts than she has yet to unwrap.

Tonight as I finish from three days of writing the words above and others now marked on the page, I want to say thank you.

To all of you. Who sit reading on the other side. The ones I can't see, but feel.

There is wild vulnerability living inside of dreams. Of turning your life and stories into your work.

I know no other way. And oh-the-feelings.

Thank you for your love, your passion, your wantings.

Thank you for the times you hit reply and help me connect to my why. (Including my amazing grandfather.)

Dave just brought me a glass of wine. I sit typing words, erasing them, trying to find something more clever or just different than what is flowing.

This is my favorite thing that I do. It continues to terrify me.

In the morning I'll wake up and say my silent coffee prayers as I do each morning holding my hot mug.

We will pack for our camping trip with 4 other families. I will make sloppy joes and cole slaw and pack far too much because I have to have it all.

I will surprise the kids with bacon and eggs for brunch.

The wrangling of toothbrushes and water bottles and notebooks and sleeping bags and all the things will commence.

Dave and I will find our laughter inside of the frustration I can imagine we are going to feel. Two cars piled high with supplies and kids driving into the woods.

I will keep remembering nothing I do makes sense and everything is perfect.

So grateful for the journey.