It is your choice my love…

What do I want to give my energy to?

What thoughts, what behaviors, what actions do I want to give my energy to?

You know we are more nothing than we are something?

We are more energy, then we are matter.

We are more something we can’t see, then something we can see.

And yet we are visible, so we often give our energy to what we can see.

We judge the visible bits, and we give little merit the invisible.

Which begs the question, are you ever truly seen? Especially if most of what you are, is invisible…

So what about your precious energy?

What do you want to give your energy to?

Dare I ask, what do you NEED to give your energy to?

What do you HAVE to give your energy to?

Whether it’s dreams, goals, love….what MUST you give your energy to, in order to have that thing?

If it’s dreams, you MUST put your energy towards the actions that will achieve those dreams, you must live that dream in your mind, in the nothingness, before it can ever be something.

If it’s goals, you MUST put your energy towards behaviors that will achieve those goals, you must be the person that has attained that goal, before you can be the someone that achieves that goal.

If it’s love, you MUST put your energy toward the act of loving YOUR self if you expect to receive love from another.


You MUST pull love from every space of nothingness within you and beam it forth to the ethers, out to the sun, across the milky way, in to the vast nothingness that surrounds us AND is within us. YOU MUST spark that to life within you, before you can experience it from/with another.

Every second, every moment, of my life – what do I choose to give my energy to?

Do I pour it into my insecurities?

My grief?

My sorrow?

Do I pour it into my need for validation? Acceptance? Approval?

Do I pour my energy into my fears? Of rejection? Of abandonment?

Do I pour it into my frustrations? My anger?

Do I pour it into what it IS NOT? Or what it SHOULD or COULD be?

What do I pour my precious energy into?

From now until the end of my days, where do I want to be, and where do I pour my INVALUABLE energy?

Every second, ever moment of my life, every breath is filled with me.

So who is the me I want to be?

Who is the me, that I MUST be?

Because if I am more nothing than something – if I am more energy, than I am matter, WHAT DO I POUR MY ENERGY INTO?

The tales of my past, or the promise of my future?

And the future doesn’t exist, so do I pour it into the tales of my past or the promise of NOW?!

Do I give my greatest resource to the programming of a society and culture that was chosen for me, and stay chained to that?

Or do I have courage, and decide to be who I know I am, versus who my self of yesterday would like me to believe I am?

Safety or truth?

Known or unknown?

More of the same, or ultimate being?

Do I give my energy to the behavior of others?

Do I let their thoughts and actions determine MY inner peace?

Do I give my energy to the stranger that screams and honks at me when I’m driving?

Do I give my energy to thoughts that are NOT true, but my brain loves to bathe in them out of habit?

Fear, insecurity….they are all programs that we have accepted. In some way shape or form.

Often not our fault.

BUT it is our CHOICE to choose where we put our energy at THIS exact moment.

I am tired of giving my energy, my life, my thought, my fucking self, to unworthy purposes all because I lack the awareness and self love to make a goddam CHOICE…

Aren’t you? What are you tired of?

Because if I can love my self enough, and be conscious enough, then maybe I can put my energy into the right shit.

I am tired of giving my energy to my fears and insecurities.

I am tired of giving my energy to others, looking for them to validate me.

I am perfect, whole, and complete, exactly as I am.

And those that are meant to walk the path with me, will see that.

Those that can resonate with the love and gratitude that overflows my being when I am putting my energy in the right places, will want to be beside me.

I choose to give my energy to the love that resides in me. I empower me.

I choose to give my energy to the love that I experience in my life from others, I empower that too.

I choose to give my energy to all that is good within me. I empower you.

I choose to give my energy to a universe of love that surrounds me, and bathe in that. I am empowered.

I choose to give my energy to loving others, wherever they are….I am empowered.

I choose to give my energy toward compassion and grace, I am empowered.

I choose to give my energy to abundance, I am pure love AND I AM EMPOWERED!

I choose to give my energy to love, AND joy, AND peace, AND the warm acceptance that I am ALL of those things, and I am empowered in ALL of those things…IF I CHOOSE TO BE.

One is the loneliest number?

I’ve been contemplating loneliness lately.

I’m surrounded by people that love me, and yet, I still experience loneliness. In fact, as I invite more love and greater connection into my life, I find the loneliness ebbs and flows in even bigger waves in equal and opposite directions to that great love and great connection. 

What would cavewoman do? I think loneliness was a survival instinct for her. Our ancestors needed people to survive. Loneliness was maybe an instinct to keep us connected to others, keep us together, so that we could accomplish the tasks we needed to in order to survive. Or maybe it’s something that developed once we moved away from our ancestral mama’s ways. I’m really not sure…

I’m sure we’ve all experienced loneliness in some shape or form. We have a weekend with loved ones, and we experience joy, fun, good times, and at the end of the weekend, we must go back to reality. The absence of those loved ones feels unbearable at times. Like a limb has been removed. “But I want that third arm, two isn’t enough!” 

I feel that same pang as I drop B off on the first day of school, loss, loneliness, the realization that she is separate from me, no matter the fact that she came from within me. I remember that same pang when my parents drove me to college, and as I turned to walk into my apartment, I heard them fire up the truck to make the long drive back to Canada, and the ache in my chest was awful. Tears began to stream down my face, and I opened my mouth to try and breathe out the unbearable emotion of… “I’m alone.” 

It’s easy to take in the love, the connection, the wave of wondrous beauty that is belonging. We sit on the shore and we bask in that wave of welcome joy. But as we enjoy the crash of the wave of love on the shores, we must prepare ourselves for the equal and opposite reaction of that same wave sucking out to sea. 

And as that wave is pulled back to the ocean, we feel that love and joy pulled away from us. And loneliness takes it’s place. The larger the wave that hits us on shore, the greater the absence as that water recedes and retreats back to the greater source. 

Why can’t it just stay? Why can’t we stay in that perpetual high? 

I don’t know. 

I think because we aren’t supposed to be on the shore. And that’s the vantage point we often view these experiences with the ebb and flow. 

So what vantage point should we seek? I would argue that we seek to be the moon. The observer of it all. The omniscient being in the middle. If we seek to be the moon, we can understand the tides better. We can look at the waves and see that the tide ebbs and flows due to our gravitational pull on it. This allows us to move from the shore where we experience the force of abundant love as the wave almost knocks us over, and then the depleted scarcity of loneliness as each wave “hits us and quits us.”

If we are the moon, we observe this ebb and flow. We understand with a high, a corresponding low must occur. We understand that the ebb and flow are the same thing, it’s just our vantage point that is the problem. We can not experience the loneliness if we understand that we are actually in the middle of the wave. Neither being welcomed by it, nor being deserted by it, because we are the very force that pulls on all that water. 

LOVE cannot leave us. ABUNDANCE cannot leave us. Because it is always WITHIN us. But if we stay on the shore, it will feel like love is always retreating and returning to the vast sea beyond our reach.

BE the MOON.


What are your thoughts? Was loneliness an instinct for cavewoman? Or did it develop after agriculture and community living diminished? And how do you endeavor to be the moon, the observer, to all that you feel?

2018 has been real.

I sit in a hotel room in Mississippi and I reflect on just how “real” 2018 has been. We are here to celebrate a 110th birthday. Unreal that some should live so long and my Dad started losing his mind in his early 60s. Life is funny that way.

The end of this year didn’t neglect to punch me in the face on the way out. I would be lying if I said I didn’t have a bit of a hangover from the last couple weeks.

My Dad passing was a blessing, but it hurts no less. And it creates whole new ripples of growth within me. Yes, I’m relieved he is without pain and confusion. That being said, my heart and my head have a place within them now, that just feels…..empty.

You know when you feel like you’re forgetting something. You feel some sense of forgetfulness or like there’s something missing? That’s what this feels like. Like a piece is missing. It was a piece that required peace. I understand. And yet, I feel that in my Dad’s final rest, I find some deep unrest… I’m not sure if it will be like this forever, or if maybe one day, the loss will feel “normal.” It doesn’t really matter, as everything moves and changes…just observations I’ve been making.

In addition to the final punch in the face of my father passing, 2018 delivered many other beatings. It was a good year.

Yes, you heard that right, it was a great year! If it hadn’t been for all challenges this year brought, I no doubt wouldn’t be where I’m at personally.

Kibwé and I had some of our most deep and honest “conversations” of our life this year. We have realized our egos and our shit is the cause of most of our friction. We have fought terribly, and we have fought valiantly – it all depends on the day, who’s triggered the most, and who’s willing to let their shit go. The answer is, we both need to let our shit go, and with any luck we both need to assassinate our egos, and disarm any triggers. It’s the Hurt Locker over here people. That’s life…thankfully we get to do it together!

This year has been an interesting year for us in that way. We have moved and stretched and grown immensely, and as I lay in a hotel bed in Mississippi, next to the man I married many years ago, I can’t help but be incredibly proud. He’s my best friend, and I can literally tell him ANYTHING. You know those things you’re embarrassed to admit, those desires you’re afraid to express? I tell him those. 😳

It wasn’t always that way. We’ve always been friends, we’ve always been lovers, but now it’s more. We are truly operating on a new level. And it sucks sometimes. But it’s totally worth it.

This year we also watched the kids grow into themselves. Brooklyn continues to amaze us and although we’ve stopped being flattered when people compliment her looks, we can’t help but be tickled when others notice what a special little human she is. Thoughtful, creative, and resourceful…we regularly are inspired by her and her good nature. And Ruby….she can be a tornado of energy and mischief, it makes me crazy sometimes, but it also makes me laugh hysterically, and I have a real difficult time staying mad at her. She will be dangerous for all that come into contact with her, a delight of charm, fun, charisma, and a penchant for understanding what people need.

I watched my business rise and fall, ebb and flow. It hasn’t grown as I would wish it to in 2018. But this I know: lives are changing because of pure therapeutic ketones, in unimaginable and beautiful ways, people are regaining their self, their health, and their vitality, and I’m so thankful to be a part of that.

And in my heart, I hold hope that someone’s Dad, someone’s husband, will be saved from the pain I endured with my own Dad, because I chose to share this message.

So much of our health and wellness, so much of our genetic predispositions, are completely within our control. So if you’re sitting their feeling helpless about where you are, STOP IT! Right now. STOP IT.

You are in the driver’s seat of your own life. You are in control. If you choose to be. I decided to take control of my life, of my happiness. I decided to live my authentic life. I decided to share my truth this year, more than I ever have. I’m getting better at letting go of who I think I’m supposed to be, and stepping into who I REALLY am.

And it’s fucking beautiful. I have more love in my life than I could ever imagine. And it’s not just more love. It’s like my heart has expanded in a new way for all the people in my life.

This year I created some life changing relationships and we expanded our “family,” and I cemented the relationships I already have. This year I fell for a girl, and she’s pretty cool. Her and I are going to the end together. She’s my ride or die.

And as the rain pounds the window of this hotel room, and the music plays some dope as tunes, and the kids ask me a million questions as a try to write this, and lights are being flicked on and off (against my repeated requests), I can’t help but feel what I feel.

I feel my heart. So full. Instead of pumping blood, it feels like my heart is squeezing love, pure unconditional love, out into my entire body. And it transcends my body and emanates out, beyond my skin, and further than the farthest reaches man can know. It cannot be contained by the flesh that covers my muscle and bone and instead it radiates like a sin wave. And I’ma surf that bitch.

What else do I feel? Gratitude. This year revealed so much to me about all of you. Each time I made a post, wrote a blog, posted anything…it was rare to not receive a kind, encouraging, message from someone, sometimes strangers, sometimes close friends. It made my heart soar, EVERY SINGLE TIME! And when my Dad passed, the support, text messages, comments, phone calls, the love I felt from all of y’all…it makes me speechless. I’m blessed and better because of each one of you ♥️

2019, what do you hold? What do you have in store for me? I cannot be certain, but I can be certain of my response to what life throws my way, and I can move forward with all the love, joy, and value that I know I possess, and I commit to sharing more of that with the world this year.

I’m stepping into me even more this year, so look out people, if you get too close, you might just decide to walk this path beside me ♥️

He is free. He is free. He is free…

And so begins the long journey home…

I wasn’t due to make a trip north this Christmas.

I wasn’t due to see the snow.

I wasn’t due to travel.

And I knew the next time I did venture home, would likely be to say a final goodbye.

So here I am, on my way to say the final farewell.

Each time I’ve seen my Dad over the last few years, I’ve said my goodbyes.

I’ve told him it was okay to let go,

I’ve told him that I love him,

I’ve told him that he was tough, and he did us “Smith’s” proud.

I’ve told him I love him, and he is the best Daddy a girl could ask for.

I’ve told him I will be with him always, and I am okay.

I’ve told him I am strong.

So what do I say this time?

As I ready to board my flight and I reflect on all the years I’ve flown home to see my parents, I can’t help but realize that this is the first time a plural is hyperbole.

Parents has become parent.

In finality and permanence, his last breath has been taken.

And with a final exhale my Dad has found peace.

With one last heartbeat his body finally rests.

His mind finally freed from confusion.

So I contemplate. What do I say?

I don’t know.

I love you Daddy.

I wish you’d met Ruby. Like really met her.

In a way that you could appreciate the fire and mischief that fuels her spirit.

And I wish you could have known Brooklyn. Like really known her.

In a way that you could appreciate her thoughtful, caring, creative nature.

I wish you could have seen the marriage Kibwe and I have built together. Like really felt the love we’ve built, as partners, as parents, as best friends and as lovers.

I wish you could have seen my short hair. I think you would have scoffed and said “what’s this?” In a disapproving, yet playful manner.

I wish you could have taken me hunting.

I wish I had more time with you, since I’ve been the most like me.

I wish I got to know you better. Got to hear more stories.

But the thing I know to be true is, I still see you Dad. I see you everywhere.

I see you when I look to Dale and see his devilish grin, knowing he’s up to something.

I see you in Riley when he smiles with boyish charm.

I see you in Paige, the playful prankster with a kind nature for good fun.

I see you in Brooklyn when she raises her eyebrows at something surprising.

I see you in Ruby when her eyes twinkle with mischief and omnipotence.

I see you in the mirror, when I look into the icey depths of my own hooded eyes.

I thank you Dad. Your life and your death have been a tool for transformation in my life.

You taught me to be who I am. Authentically.

You taught me to say what you mean, and do what you say.

You taught me that sometimes you have to fight. Whether figuratively or literally.

You taught me to not take shit from anybody.

You taught me how to have fun and play.

You taught me a great love for a mountain peak and a pet.

You taught me to observe the world around me, and all the beauty that it holds.

You taught me presence.

A constant endeavour.

For years your memory has been filled with the weight of your current reality.

Finishing your days in startling contrast to how you lived your life.

That weight has lifted.

I’m filled with gratitude that you have found peace.

I’m filled with gratitude that you have been freed from your prison.

I’m filled with gratitude to have known and been raised by you.

It was my honour and my privilege.

I could be bitter that you ended in such a cruel fashion, but instead

I’m filled with gratitude that your fate sent me on a purposeful path that fills my life with great meaning.

As I fly across the sky, I look down on the mountains. It’s been too long.

Too long since I’ve been greeted by these white capped mammoths.

They rise from the ground with immensity and grace. Much like you…

And all I can think is…

They don’t make them like my Dad anymore. He was grown in the great white North. Not knowing plumbing or concrete sidewalks until his mid teens.

He was raised where the winter solstice saw no light, and the summer solstice saw no dark.

He flew planes, and raced cars and motorbikes.

He disappeared into the backcountry for weeks and returned with a beard and some wild game.

He was a pioneer of the Canadian tuxedo.

He worked pipeline and told stories of daring fights and wild nights.

He worked as long as the daylight still shone, and when it was cold

He would warm his icy hands on whomever he could catch first.

He could talk to anyone, anywhere exuding charm and charisma, including dogs, and horses, and cows, and even grizzlies, and

He likely preferred the animals to the humans.

After all, authentic beings resonate with authentic beings.

My Dad took pleasure in the little things, and he was at peace amongst nature.

And I take great joy in knowing he is free again to roam the back country.

He’s free again to explore the wild wilderness.

He’s free again to gaze upon the mountains and watch for a passing bear or deer.

He is free again to wander…

Free again to wonder…

He is free. He is free. He is free.

And although it is hard to imagine an Earth his feet do not stand upon,

I believe he lives on,

In every mountain, every stream, and every tree.

In all of my family, and certainly in me.

Slay bitch, slay…

I’m a mess.
I make mistakes all the time.
I judge myself.
I feel guilty.
I feel like I’m not enough.
I feel undeserving. 
I’m a fucking mess. And….

I’m also a goddess.
I’m also a warrior.
I’m also a resilient woman that will show up in the worst of times.
I’m the one you can count on to show up on the front lines to battle the largest monsters when all hope seems lost.
I’m the slayer of beasts when it seems impossible, when there seems to be nothing else to lose, when it feels like that all we have left is the breath in our lungs. 

Because what that breath holds is pure will.
The will to muster up the last bit of optimism and release it with a swift strike of my sword. 
The will to use my last breath to scream a battle cry that will explode eardrums and stop mythical creatures in their tracks.
The kind of cry that will make them think twice about advancing. 

They will hear my cry, they will look in my eyes, and they will see.
I am not to be fucked with. 
Not without a fight.
I am not to be fucked with.
Not unless you are ready to die. 
Not unless you are ready to go to the altar and be sacrificed to my deity, my goddess.
I am not to be fucked with.

They will see that behind my blue eyes lies a blue fire forged from love and joy,
They will see those eyes, and that light, reflected in the blade of my drawn weapon, and
They will see my spirit is unconquerable, 
They will see it lives in this universe regardless of whether this body does, and I will sacrifice this body to protect all that that is.

I am the warrior, walking tall, and in her power, towards an army of assassins. 
For the poor, the down trodden, for the children and the vulnerable, I stand tall and I press forward. 
I raise my sword with conviction no matter how tired, how bloodied, and how hopeless the battle seems. 
Because the poor, the down trodden, the children and the vulnerable, NEED me, 
And my will, my power, my resiliency, can be counted on in those fucking times.

When it seems easier to retreat, I maintain the will of all the goddesses and gods to step the fuck up. 
When it seems easier to go below deck and weather the storm,
When it seems easier to curl up in a ball and hide under the covers,
When it seems easier to sit in a pile of self pity and loathing, 
THAT is when I RISE.

Like a phoenix. I rise from THAT place and I scream!
Fuck you! You cannot have me!!

From wherever that place is, I rise, I smear the ashes across my face, and don my war paint,
I grab my sword, and I sprint towards certain death. 
With purpose.
With certainty. 
With optimism. 

Optimism that one life can make a difference.
Optimism that one act can change the world.
Optimism that my messy, ash covered, furious sprint will inspire others to join me. 
Optimism that my battle cry, my certainty, my willingness to do what I must, will empower others to grab their weapons and run with me. 

And even when I finally drop to my knees,
When my arms have been torn from my body,
I will raise my head in honor.
And look that monster in the face.
Knowing I did all that I could. 

I will use my last breath to spit at that monster.
I will use my last heartbeat to fight for what is right. 
I will use my last thought to believe that all that I could do, I did. 

I will not cry. 
I will kneel in pride and contentment. 
My eyes will stare with the same conviction.
Fear may be present, but my indomitable courage is who I choose,
Not fear.

You cannot fucking have me. 

Because I am the warrior.
And I serve my goddess. 


Let. It. Go.

We are not meant to hold it in. None of it. 
If you think about how we are created.
We inhale, then we exhale.
We eat, then we shit.
We drink, then we piss.
We are vessels that everything is meant to pass through. 

Even life.

As women our body’s take a seed and create a child.
And that passes through us too.
In one spectacular moment, life shatters through our body. 
And where there was one, there is now two.
The most beautiful passing that happens, in my opinion.

This physical self of ours is essentially the train station for all things. 
From breath, to food, to water….to life as we know it. 
It’s all impermanent. 
Just a stop along the way.

What if we took that idea and used it with regard to pain, anguish, unrest….
What if we took every trauma, every sad moment, every sad story, and we let it wash through us, like water through a hose?
What if we breathed in all the pain of a heart breaking moment, and we exhaled it with sweet release?
What if we let all the hardship, all the pain, all the trauma, all the heartache….
What if we let it all pass through us too? 

What if we acknowledged it’s impermanence, and knew to let it pass on the next train?

It wasn’t meant to stay with us.
It wasn’t meant to live in us. It wasn’t meant to stay. 
Just like the food, the water, the breath and the life, it was not meant to stay.
We weren’t meant to carry this stuff around inside of us. 
It was ALWAYS meant to pass through us. 

What if all that hurt and pain that we hold onto, manifests in ugly ways, because we were too stubborn to let it go? 
Because it does.
What if we became so resilient, that we could breathe in every sadness, every pain, and in one swift move, we let it flow down our cheeks as a tear, or a sob?

It doesn’t have to be pretty. 
It can look however you want it to. 
There’s no right or wrong way.
Maybe you breathe it out by screaming at the top of your lungs.
Maybe you exhale it out with body racking sobs. 
Maybe you simply recognize it, and release it from your heart with a deep breath and the words of “goodbye” and “thank you”…

Don’t you dare sob and scream without saying goodbye and thank you.
Don’t you dare sob and scream while it’s tethered to your heart, never truly letting it go. 
Promise to sob, to scream, to hug it tightly, and then two hand push that shit away. 

The point is, you MUST let it out. 
You MUST set it free.
It’s not meant for you to hold on to. 
You are strong, and beautiful and perfect as you are. 
But you were not meant to hold, to carry, this back breaking weight.

You were meant to let is pass through you. 
You were meant to be a sieve. 
To experience it, and let it go. 
Sending it to the ethers for eternity.
You were meant to learn from it, to be grateful for it, and then release it, as your body naturally releases everything else that serves it. 

Everything is meant to pass through us. 
Even our spirit. Our soul. Our consciousness. 
It’s not meant to stay within. 

Our soul being a temporary tenant in a house that gradually becomes so rundown that it’s uninhabitable. 
And then it must exit the premises.

The more shit that we hold onto, 
The more we let build up, 
The more we keep things from passing through, 
The quicker the house becomes condemned. 

At some point, the body finally kills itself because it’s the only way to find release from what we were never meant to hold.

It’s an unconscious suicide. 
The cure being consciousness. 
Consciousness to LET. IT. GO. 
Whatever “it” may be. 
“It” was not meant to be held, to be nurtured, and to be cared for by you.
“It” was meant to PASS THROUGH you. 
To be a lesson learned and a pain forgotten.

We’re not meant to hold on to the things we do.
It’s meant to pass through.
Just like our spirit, soul, mind, consciousness….
It wasn’t meant to stay in our physical body.
Always meant to pass through. 
And we forgot, we are meant to pass through this body too.

It is but a simple vessel that was never meant to house us eternally. 
This physical self is just a nice stop along the infinite spectrum of light. Meant to be cared for and loved, and then laid to rest as we pass on to the next. 
And if you think about it that way…..then why do we hold onto everything else?
Especially once it has already served us?
Especially once it has already happened?

Walk with lightness and love my friends. Your heart, your body, your mind, were meant to walk lightly. 

What helps you walk lighter? Let me know in the comments. 

An open letter to the women I love…

Dear amazing woman I love,

I’m mad. I’m fired up. Why, you ask? Because at what point do you accept that you are as amazing as everybody else tells you you are? 

At what point do you have to stop going to the well of validation, to gain belief in the thing that is true about you? 

Real talk, you can either spend your life questioning and worrying about what other people think about you, or you can spend your life living and sharing your best self. It’s your choice.

I’m mad because I know who you are, I see who you are, I see that you’re worthy, and enough, and beautiful inside and out. 

I’m mad because you let someone else’s ego and immaturity creep into your head. 

I’m mad because you are robbing yourself of love, when you reside in that state of questioning your self and your worthiness. 

All I have to give you is love and support. Sooooo, you rebuff my, and other’s, love, to appease your “not enoughness?” You rebuff your own love, because you would rather participate in someone else’s story about you? 

Fuck that shit. Fuck that well of validation that you keep making trips to. 

Every time we get caught up in what someone else thinks about us, and we start to question who we are, we are 100% caught up in imagination and stories that we cannot know the answer to. The only thing we can be certain of, assuming we are conscious enough, is the purity of our own heart, and our own intentions. So quit making up stories for other people. 

At what point do you decide to throw away the story that you’ve been marinating on? Quit worrying why they’re acting the way they are, or what they’re saying about you, because unless you are there, unless you are them, you cannot know. And besides that, it’s none of your business. And you’re wasting your time worrying about something that is all imaginary.

It’s easy to accept that you’re great and amazing, and a good person when there’s no one challenging that notion. 

At that point it’s essentially a passive acceptance. 

But at what point do you move into active responsibility and accountability for how you feel about you? 

At what point do you realize you’re wasting time and energy on falsehoods and lies?

At what point do you realize there’s no time to question your worthiness, your enoughness? 

At what point do you realize that you must be aggressive in holding your self responsible? 

You are responsible for how you feel about you.

Every second you spend questioning what others think, questioning whether you deserve poor treatment, questioning someone else’s motivation, is a second that you lost to spend time being your awesome self. 

Being that awesome mom, that awesome wife, that awesome employee, entrepreneur, friend.  Stripped of time, because you did not practice radical responsibility over your belief in who you are. 

It is time that you lost to love yourself, and give that love fully and completely to the present people in your life that are ready to receive it. 

YOUR TIME IS YOUR LIFE. And you are WASTING YOUR LIFE when you are in that state. Let that fucking sink in. 

You’re wasting your life, your breath, your very existence in a worry, a lie, an imaginary space.

What if we quit focusing on those around us that are confirming the falsehoods, and we instead focused our energy on the great love we possess for ourselves, and let it overflow onto the people that are ready to receive our love right now? 

What if we quit questioning why we “aren’t enough” to that one person, and started seeing how we could share our gifts and talents with the ones that truly see our hearts? 

If we’re not enough to them, then we are out of their league people! Eventually they will come around and want to be around your amazingness, or they won’t. But let’s be clear, that is their loss, knowing who you are.

If someone can’t see that your heart, and your intentions are pure, then that is 100% about them.
It’s like asking a blind person to see. They cannot. Their ego taints everything they see. 

They’re caught up in their own story about who they think they are, and who they think you are, and it strips them of the ability to see what actually is. 

So, I ask you this…

Who are you? What do you want out of life? 

At your heart, what do you want for your self and others?

What kind of mom do you want to be? What kind of lover do you want to be?

What kind of friend do you want to be in this world?

What kind of person do you want to be, and what kind of legacy will you leave to your children?

Because what you do, they will do.

What you say, they will say.

That shit is the greatest legacy you will leave to them. 

So, for fuck’s sake, I ask that you leave them this:

A legacy of acting out of kindness to yourself and others.

A legacy of being certain who you are, and what you wish to give to the world and others.

A legacy of serving yourself love, so you are able to share that love with everybody else.

A legacy of love, forgiveness, gratitude, and responsibility that starts with you, and then trickles down to all those around you. 

Not a fucking legacy of letting someone else determine how you feel about you.

Because know this, even though what I think doesn’t actually fucking matter, YOU ARE BETTER THAN THAT. YOU ARE WORTHY. YOU ARE ENOUGH.

We all are.

We are worthy of exactly what we believe we are. 

And if you don’t think you are, change your fucking mind. Yesterday.

Don’t you dare talk about that shit, and not be about it.

Get aggressive with holding yourself responsible to this, because you, and those around you, fucking deserve that version of you. 

Show up in this fucking life for you. And in turn you will show up for everybody around you.

What would the world look like, if we showed up this way, if we believed these truths? 

No more excuses, no more. 

Go be your greatest self, and let everybody’s opinion die, except the one that matters most.

Your own.



P.S. Tag and share this with the amazing women in your life, that need to hear this. xo

I’ll sleep when I’m dead?

I had a sleep disorder for years….and I had no idea. I would go to bed at night, and just not sleep. Laying, waiting for the sandman to come and visit me. 

As a child living in Western Canada, I remember arguing with my mom about it. “I’m not tiiiiirrrred,” I’d say filled with a tone of pure whine. Where we lived, the sun might not set until past 9pm. But even after it was dark, I remember laying awake. 

I remember staring at the sliver of light that shone under my door. I remember hearing coyotes in the distance, and owls in the trees. And when it was haying season, I remember listening to the sound of my Dad making rounds in the field. Quieter, and then louder, as he cut, bailed, or raked hay… As he drew near, the lights of the tractor would dance across my wall, and I’d wait for the next round. All the while, I was really waiting for sleep.

As I grew older and chased a career in Athletics, my sleep issues persisted. But remember, I still didn’t know I had any. I would stay up too late, twiddle my thumbs when I did go to bed, and remember how my mom coached me to count sheep. Which by the way, doesn’t work. 

So, why didn’t I know I had a problem? Is it that I was just a “night owl?” That I’m just “not a morning person?” I didn’t know because although my sleeping issues are COMMON, I had no idea that they were NOT NORMAL. Most people have sleeping problems. Again, it is very common, but it is not normal. 

As I grew even older, and was working in exercise rehab, the number one thing almost all my clients were prescribed were medications to help them sleep. It’s so COMMON, that people go to their doctor’s looking for a prescription to bring about this natural process called sleeping. 

So, let’s think about that for a second. How basic is sleep? It’s about as basic as our need for breath. If we couldn’t breathe, would be look for a temporary fix? Fuck no. We would be trying to get to the route of the problem ASAP. It is NOT NORMAL to not be able to sleep. 

Aside from some possible genetic mutations that can cause issues with neurotransmitter production, the majority of what affects your sleep is 100% within your control. Even if you have those genetic mutations, you can supplement with natural products to find sleep. I eventually learned this, with more age, and others’ wisdom. 

Let’s think about our ancestral mama. What would Cavewoman do during her day that influenced her sleep? Well, first off, she would have been incredibly active. She would have rose with the sun, and settled in after it set. After all, it is not safe to be out in the wild after dark. And past sunset, the only light available would have been fire. She would have consumed a diet filled with all the necessary nutrients to survive and thrive, and she would have done this against all the odds. 

Remember our brains have not changed that much over the last couple of thousands of generations, neither have our eyes. But the environment observed by those eyes and experienced by that brain, have changed wildly. We have a plethora of new stimuli that affect and influence our sleep – including but not limited to artificial light, lack of sun exposure, our consumption of “food like” products versus nutrient dense nourishment, increased exposure to screen time, and a complete lack of ritual around rising and falling with the sun.

Now when people don’t get appropriate levels of sleep, it is boasted about or touted as a badge of honor. That we are so tough, that we actually don’t need the rest. Which don’t kid yourselves, that’s a load of bullshit. 

Sleep is a necessity. We need it to SURVIVE and we 100% need it to THRIVE. Sleep is when our body is able to rest and detoxify. Sleep has the power to affect everything under the umbrella of health and wellness. So why don’t we prioritize it?

I suspect most people were like me. They don’t even know they have a sleep problem. Over the years, I found I could manage my sleep better if I supplemented properly, but the biggest change happened when I started to regularly be in ketosis. Even if I forget all my other sleep supplements, but I’m in ketosis regularly, I will fall asleep when my head hits the pillow. How cool is that? 

I have spent my whole life waiting for sleep. And for the first time ever, I just go to sleep. No more listening to my husband fall asleep, no more reliving the days events, and planning for the next. No more stressing about that conversation with Judy, or Julie, or Janet (etc.) where she gave me that weird eyebrow lift. No more getting excited about life and it’s opportunities and then getting out of bed and writing notes for an hour past bed time. No more waiting. 

My sleep has become so normal, that if I have a night where I cannot find sleep, alarm bells go off, and I wonder what’s up. I’m finally aware that it is NOT NORMAL. And that’s the wonderful thing about awareness. I cannot unlearn what it feels like to go to sleep without any problems. And that awareness brings the accountability to sort it out, if it ever becomes a problem again. 

So, what does this mean for you? These are all COMMON but not NORMAL sleep problems:

1. Difficulty going to sleep

2. Difficulty staying asleep

3. Difficulty waking up

And every single one of them can be impacted by practicing the ways of our ancestral mama. Be active. Get outside. Put away the screens at night and/OR wear eyewear that protects against the harmful light. Eat right. Get into ketosis. Supplement when necessary and take some massive accountability in restoring this natural process. I am not a doctor. But I can guarantee that the recommendation that goes along with every disease and disorder out there, is GET BETTER SLEEP. 

And I can also promise you this: we are not stronger than our ancestors. The modern world has weakened all of us. So, let’s take back some of our badassedness (that’s a word), let’s take back our health, let’s take back our sleep, let’s take back our strength, and let’s show our ancestral mother that we can not only SURVIVE, but we can fucking THRIVE. And then let’s pass these skills on to the next generation!IMG_6931.JPG

The lies we tell ourselves; the truths we adopt.

“It’ll pass,” he says. 

But in the moment it doesn’t feel that way.

It feels like I’m going to drown. 

Like the resistance in me, is going to suffocate me, and I’m going to be stuck in this loop forever. 

These words don’t console me, they condemn me…

Reinforcing self doubt, anger, fear… 


The resistance I feel…it swells and makes me feel like my life means nothing, and my existence is hopeless….

That I can’t overcome it. 

It dwarves me and disempowers me and convinces me that the ones I love would be better off without me, because what value could I ever provide them…

Like I don’t deserve their love, and how dare I take it when I give so little in return…


It’s all bullshit, but it feels real. 

I can feel myself crashing into the resistance…


It feels like a dam in the depths of my consciousness, that’s literally stopping the flow of life… 

Constricting positive vibes, halting the flow of any love from that deeper place… 

Just a full stop. 

Like a tourniquet has been placed on the artery of love, joy, peace… 


And I’m aware of it. 

I can feel myself smashing into that dam. 

It hurts in my throat and heart…

Like I can’t swallow

Confusion and anger cloud my mind… 

I know I have the answer, but it’s locked up, the key thrown away, and the bullshit keeps building behind that fucking dam. 


A reservoir of resistance. 

Tears threaten to fall, to get some sort of release…

Tempers rise in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure…

Like a caged animal, I feel the need to break free and run…where? I don’t know.


That goddam fucking dam. 

It’s ruining me. 

And guess who built that dam?

Guess who put that hulking piece of concrete in my mind, disconnecting me from the source of joy that I know resides within me…

Guess who did that? 



I built it over years of being convinced the voices around me mattered more than the one within. 

I built it when I was a kid and was convinced that I was fat or more kindly “big boned.”

I built it when I listened to the negative self talk being practiced around me, and adopted the same bullshit narrative. 

I built it when I was dumped as an adolescent for a “cooler crowd.”

I built it when I didn’t have boyfriends in high school and accepted it was because I was “bigger” than most girls…

I built it thicker and sturdier, every single time a man rejected me, hurt me, walked away from me all the while claiming they loved me.


I built that dam when I told myself the story that I wasn’t enough,

time and time again. 


Each batch of concrete was fortified with negative self talk, self doubt, low self esteem, self importance, ego…all perfect binders to create an impenetrable wall of resistance. 

Each batch poured with unconscious criticism and fear.


I built a dam worthy of Hoover, football fields of concrete, that disconnected me from the truth. 

And what truth am I speaking of? 


That just fucking maybe, I am enough. 

That just fucking maybe, all of the bullshit I used to build with were not my building materials to begin with…just borrowed from those around me. 


They were opinions, thoughts, actions all belonging to someone else’s story, that I adopted and used to fortify my own bullshit story. 

Accepting a narrative out of unconscious habit, and lack of awareness.

Practicing a frame of mind, without even knowing there was a better option…


And what’s the truth? 

That maybe, this is all up to fucking me. 

That maybe, I could write my own fucking story. 

That maybe I could break through that resistance and let the flow of what was behind that dam wash over me and cure me of all the unconscious bullshit I’ve been practicing and accepting without question. 

Like I’ve been practicing for the Bullshit Olympics all my life, and just realized there’s a much better Olympic Games that the happy people participate in…


So, I’m aware. 

There’s a dam that disconnects me. 

I built it, I fortified it, I’ve let it constrain, constrict, and strangle my happiness…

What next? 

Do I condemn the builder? As I have been…

Do I judge her harshly? As I’ve also done…

Do I throw her away? As others have…


Fuck no…I need to be done with that. I must be done with that. 

Because I’m a fucking child of this universe who’s light is connected to everything that’s amazing in his world and beyond, but that fucking dam has been the problem, NOT ME!


So I wield my pickaxe of gratitude with the strength of the goddess that lies within me, 

I brandish my sword of self determination with the power of the warrior that has been unaware of the battle,

And I fucking beam a powerful ray of pure joy from the lover that’s been slumbering quietly…


God dam that dam! 

It is no match for the goddess, or the warrior, and certainly not the lover. 

But first, I must call on them. I must invoke their powers. 

I must ask them to fight for me. 

I must let them know that we’re at war. 

I must tell them I need them and then surrender to their powers. 


As long as it’s taken to build this dam, it is no match for the epic shit that has been sleeping in the depths, lurking in the shadows, waiting to be called upon…

I’ll give them the tools,

I’ll empower them,

And I’ll sit back and watch that motherfucking dam wash away in the flood waters of who I’m actually meant to be. 

Free Diving

Imagine an ocean.

It’s wild and deep,


Many places that no man or woman has ever been able to reach,

No one knowing what exists in the abyss.

No light,

No air,

Just a deep blue sea.


What would it take to get to the bottom?

To explore that deep?

Imagine the pressure, the solitude, the darkness.


Sensory deprivatoin. Claustrophobia. Amongst other fears.

What else might be down there?

In the dark.

What else might lurk in the depths of the abyss?


We often think of exploring new places.

New cities, new beaches, new countries.

It’s in our nature.

We send ourselves into outer space, just to see what’s out there?

Are we all alone?

The eternal quest to satisfy our curiosity.


But do we do the same to explore what’s within?

Are we all alone?

There is a sea, an unexplored abyss, within all of us.

And the depth of our consciousness, the depth that you are awake,

Will determine the depth of the connection you experience in your relationships and with the most important person in this world. You.


How far can you free dive into the abyss that is you?

How far can you get before you suffocate?

Drowning on fear, rejection, resistance, ego…


And how well can you connect with someone if they can only dive four feet, and you’re all the way down at 24 feet?


We think it’s darker the deeper we dive into that abyss, like the ocean,

But it’s actually the opposite.

You dive down, you have the courage, and you plunge into the depths,

Not being able to see, to hear, to breathe. But you dive anyway.

And much like it takes lifetimes for the light of one star to reach us here on earth,

The same is true for our own light.


It might seem scary and dark and lonely when we first start to dive.
But as we get deeper, the light finally reaches us.

And the deeper we go, the brighter that light gets.

And you realize that instead of traveling out to the stars, you only had to go inward to find the most interesting galaxy that has never been explored,

And can ONLY ever be explored, by YOU.


The deeper you go, you realize there was no reason to be afraid in the first place.


You aren’t alone,

You don’t need air,

You don’t need sight,

You don’t need to hear,

You don’t need hands or feet to touch,

You do’t need a tongue to taste it.

You don’t need any of the things you thought you needed to explore the most beautiful thing you NEVER knew needed exploring.

You don’t need to be afraid because it’s the most safe place you could ever be.


Pure love. Pure awareness and joy.

Realizing you had access to all of it, the whole time.

All you needed was the courage to ask the right questions.

To examine yourself without judgement,

To have courage,

To love unconditionally,

To believe and have faith that the deeper you went, the closer to salvation you would get…

Salvation was never at the surface, it was always in that dark place you were too afraid to go.

Salvation was never outside, it was never meant to be given by anyone else, it was always within.

You just had to have the courage to dive into the dark, and have faith you’d find the light.

%d bloggers like this: