I deleted my About page.


I’ll be happy to read this to you…

All January I sat back and watched a whole lotta awesome people sell their services. Yearly circles, programs, memberships, courses. Incredibly brilliant things, many of them from friends, people I LOVE.

My yearly circle starts in April, that is my sacred month of magic, that New Moon is where all of it begins for me. Last year I saw all the launches happening and I couldn't hold myself down. I felt scared that I was missing out, I went full on into lack. I pushed it into becoming before all the bits were settled into place. I was racing imaginary beings towards something I had been visioning to birth for so long.

I don't look back and think, oh damn, I should have waited. I do look back and think, OK, that isn't going to be my story now.

So the feelings came. I watched all the freaking gorgeous offerings pop into my little corner of social media and my inbox.

Instead of freaking out I said my walking prayer.

I see you. I appreciate you. I adore you.

I thanked the energy I was receiving for bringing me to question if I was doing everything wrong. (Note, not right, wrong!)

I was deeply confronted and I stood somewhat naked in that confrontation.

For a while I fell into a wild stage of comparison and jealousy. We don't talk about that enough do we? I would love to sit over here pretending to be super evolved and tell you that it doesn't happen to me. This is an area of big ole' healing work for me now.

Maybe my evolution in this moment is being able to say, OMG there are days when I just can't. I can't look at anyone else's accomplishments. I can't look at a photo of a couple being so sweet together when Dave and I are fighting about nothing and it is the biggest deal in the whole world. I can't read one more positive freaking meme telling me how do something better/different/more positively.

Sometimes I have to unfollow incredibly positive people on Instagram because it overflows my capacity to feel my own life.

I just can't some days.

And those days are my biggest vulnerability and what I would love to hide from.

I can't.

I deleted my About page the other day. Because I can't. I can't spend another year of my life worrying about the copy on that page. 

All of the people I've spent time learning from, studying, all of the advise on how to make the About page leverage you or sell you.

I can't.

So it is gone.

Good business strategy? Probably not, but I've never been sold on a formula. I am a rebel tendency enneagram four who just can't right now.

I've had this knee injury and new insurance and no Dr. available within a six month time frame and I've been watching my body hold weight and I don't feel like me and there is no good way for me to move or integrate energy right now.

I want to WALK again. I want to hike with my kids.

We finally worked out with the insurance that the best way to handle this is to go to the ER. I can't go to a specialist until I see a Dr. and no Dr. can see me until July. I had a mini melt down and then decided that while it seems like the silliest thing to clog up an ER, this is what will happen.

Dave told me how proud he is of me for handling an entire month of these phone calls and dead ends and frustrations and that felt really really good. I was craving that, someone just saying, I'm proud of you. I don't need the praise as a general rule, I just need to process, but sometimes being seen for the things that are super hard for you when you are in the muck is a beautiful thing.

These are the places I fall apart, come unhinged. Making appointments and phone calls and getting taxes ready and adulting and waiting to launch my heart and worrying about stupid About pages and feeling jealous and like I've disappeared from my little corner of the world and become irrelevant. 

I just want to go in the kitchen and make broth and beans and mix herbs into pots and toast turmeric and infuse something and fully live in my Kitchen Witch knowing of rose powders and cacao.

When I conjure in the kitchen I am confronted with something else. A knowing. A deep primal ancestral knowing that I am one who blesses AND is blessed.

I am so OK without an About page. I am so OK in my vulnerabilities. I am so OK sometimes not being OK on social media.

I am transformed in the simple ritualizing of slicing ginger and adding it to a broth of cinnamon and cardamom and pepper and honey and coconut milk to calm my nervous system. 

I take my mug over to my little meditation/card corner. Many mornings I pull a card after asking one question. I add a gem essence to my potion. The steam rises and I feel back into my body. I can. I can be here now. I can follow the card's wisdom. I can sip. I can breathe.

The truth I know is that I can't do things any other way than what my spirit contract says. If I'm feeling jealous it means I have not been living in my full expression of self. If I am trying to do something just for money or fame my body will break. If I am letting others persuade me against my soul's song I will get angry.

My work for this last decade has been a combination of pure devotional spirit downloads of inspiration and deep dark wounded struggle. Every decision that happens within me is now aligned with the space between.

The peace, compassion and air of the between. There is an inordinate amount of waiting here. I have this little rule for myself that I don't go on my phone in any waiting room or line situation. Because I don't want to be looking down, I want to be there, to be noticing, to be present. I refuse to become a zombie with a little box in her hand.

This waiting is like that. To be bored enough to know myself. To live not in the pain of suffering or the high of the creation as the only forces all the time. To be invited into those spaces for times and then as Dave and I heard from a line in The Last Kingdom that we loved, "You may leave me now, my dear."

Please come in love, you are safe.

Now you may leave me, my dear.

This is brand new and my nervous system is loving it. I haven't had a panic attack. I can feel myself in my life.

I can feel myself in my life.

The space between extremes.

Sort of like I used to live in my house either completely chaotic with piles and messes and dishes or totally rearranged and photo ready but not functioning to stay clean. Now I have these little things I do, and have invited the kids to learn to do, that keep a home of peace; something I truly never knew as sustainable.

Or the space between intoxicated and sobriety. My love and I went to a Superbowl party and neither of us are drinking and I could feel us there, in that space between. Like we were almost giddy with our choice to not drink (this is not my common feeling of not drinking), to feel good the next day, to not worry about who would drive and how much they could drink, to be inside of something brand new and beautiful, together. We weren't in sobriety or intoxicated, we were inside of the space of a simple decision made within us.

To feel ourselves in our life. To live inside of our great big fantastical lives which is magical and mystical and often ineffable. 

Please come in love, you are safe.

Now you may leave me, my dear.

The circle I have been inside of with the most amazing women on the planet was first born of the work I knew I needed. I had to do. It was knowing that what had been could no longer be supported going forth and every week I challenged myself into the actionable places where change lives. 

Going in I thought I carried zero shame and I set out my empty baskets to receive truth and they were filled. With shame, with stories, with fear and with love, with kindness, with devotion.

The work we've done together enchants me, I am under the spell of these women who choose vulnerability, being seen and to look at their suffering as an act of compassion. I am awed.

You always see testimonials from the clients about their teacher but I am their testimonial. Women lifting women is the most powerful force I have ever witnessed. They have grown me, challenged me, formed me.

I am emerging cellularly new. I can feel myself in my life. And I am so proud of my great big fantastical life because I can see it and feel it and I am not alone inside of it.

People are always saying to me, "Hannah, you must get so lonely. How do you possibly stay alone all day?"

First I remind them I have five kids and they are my ground and my joy and so much freaking fun. Secondly, I am not alone. Ever. Not one single moment. My women, my circle, we are there night and day, the women in England reach out to us in the middle of their night because we will be awake when they are suffering.

Even the women who are doing the circle quietly on their own often email me and share what is in their heart and the ones who say nothing I still feel them, they are right beside me. Often I'll go pull up everyone's picture in our member list and just say thank you.

I have more trust and faith in my work then anything I've ever done. I was born for this. I was born to circle women. When we trust the thing that is our deepest knowing, our intuition, our ease: that is when beauty becomes.

My suffering has continued to be my work in relationship, in love, and the other day I told my healer that I had begun to feel my worth. I had prayed for that feeling. For that truth. And there it was. I am integrating the wild woman who stands receiving this knowing.

So in this space between, in this waiting, I have received. Here is where I will sit in-between the suffering and chaos and the downloads of creation and flow.

I have evidence to prove to me that both will return, both will continue to walk with me through life.

Please come in love, you are safe.

Now you may leave me, my dear.

(As always, I see you. I appreciate you. I adore you.)