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Image by Crucifurr from Pixabay

You used to be amazing” 

The words ring in my ears. Echoing over the weeks. Play on repeat at random times during the day.

I wonder when I stopped being amazing.
Was it slow? Like a melting.
Or was there a specific trigger that ended my {formerly} amazing self? 

Then the realization – I WAS amazing.
Followed by more questions: Am I amazing still? Will I be amazing again?

The words from the Sara Bareilles song “Brave” remind me of a time when my pen was a sword that cut through the cords tying myself, and others, down. Keeping us from being more. The flow from my keyboard to the screen was prolific and powerful. My words inspired. Motivated. Changed lives. 

You can be amazing
You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug…” 

A friend tells me I still have this power. I just don’t share it often enough. I have the thought: I should have published that book when David asked me to.

Show me how big your brave is

Sara croons at me through my headphones…. Are you sure? I ask no one in particular. 

My brave is pretty big, people’s ability to tolerate a Big Brave is getting smaller. As I crossed the threshold into the age of 50, I decided I have no further desire to endure timid minds. 

In January, a Shaman woman stopped me on the way out of a sound bath session. You are powerful, she told me. Stop holding yourself back {Easier said than done}. 

I had put my Big Brave away on a shelf as I unravelled health issues and family drama. I stared at it wistfully. I longed for the day when my Big Brave and My Voice could be reunited. 

In August, I discovered who planted the seed of that voice in my head. The one that says unkind words, harsh untruths. The revelation was a gut punch, too close to home. But I had been looking for the tip of that root for a long, long time. I was finally able to dig it out and begin to heal from the festering wound that had been rotting for so long. 

{Welcome clarity.} 

I have learned some not so pleasant truths about the people in my life and their judgements of me.

Or be the backlash of somebody’s lack of love…

I have looked, deeply, to see if they are correct in their beliefs. 
I realized that I have emulated their version of me for far too long.

Nothing’s gonna hurt you the way that words do
And they settle ‘neath your skin”

Awareness, hurts sometimes. It can be loud and heavy and visceral. 

As this year has progressed, I have been deeply anchored in processing and somatic release. This global situation has come, selfishly, at the exact right time for me. I have the tools and resources that have allowed me to unfurl many, many years of repressed anger, sadness, and pain. It has not been especially pretty.

As things have come to light this year, I have been empowered with the feeling of them leaving my body. 

My “word” at the beginning of this year was “All in”. To me, All In meant that THIS was the year. The year I was going to conquer the world. Build my empire. Do all.the.things.

This isn’t what I thought All In would look like. 

In a surprise turn of events, this year has been a year of major emotional purge. Layers upon layers have been peeled back. And I have been blessed to have support, guides, and friends. It has been exciting, and scary, and painful. I am grateful for it all.

Maybe there’s a way out of the cage where you live.”

“I’m not upset that you lied to me, I’m upset that from now on I can’t believe you.” wrote Nietzsche. 

It’s time to believe myself again. Believe IN myself again. Maybe more than I ever have before. It’s time… to go All In on being Brave. Big Brave.


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