Sacred Rebellion

Yeah! Hurrah! Fuck!

“Is it brave to try something new? Really? What if you succeed and that sucks. Maybe it’s all colossally stupid & horrendously painful.”
~My brain, the mean part.

Now, many of you know that I suck at so many things that the list, written front and back if unfurled, would reach to the moon and back—a couple of times.

Things like transitioning from sitting on the floor to standing. It is not a one-step process for me anymore. No longer can I just jump to my feet like I used to, now I have to approach it pretty much like parallel-parking. On a good day, it takes me three tries. Other days five. 

In other words—I’m not afraid to suck.

But over the past month, I’ve found out that I suck at something I had no idea you could suck at. 

I suck at succeeding at something new.

Now before you take a hammer to my face, let me explain. Last year, my Bff, and partner in all manner of spiritual thuggery and I had the audacity to throw some energetic spaghetti on the wall to see if it would stick. We’d come up with a Master Class we thought would remind women of the “cheat codes” they could use to navigate life. Namely, ignore what you’ve been taught—line up your energy first—then go. 

Inspired action. 

It felt rebellious in the best way. You know, the second definition. So hence the name—Sacred Rebellion. 

The program was loosely based on a spiritual initiation or rebirth I’d gone through back before Jesus could grow a beard, so it lasted nine months or the length of a pregnancy.

And it went well. Like really well.

I’ve been told that groups can be tricky. Women can be bitches.

There was none of that.

All of the women were trusting and incredibly open-hearted. And they ran with to—all of it—as Steph and I watched in awe while their lives changed in what can only be described as “miraculous” ways. 

They formed a community. They bonded. 

We all bonded. 

Then when we finally met in the physical in Tofino, in November—we fell madly in love.

                                                                          **********************************

At the end of the nine months, the day to say goodbye had the nerve to dawn bright and sunny while my mood was more of a match for a nuclear winter. Saying goodbye at that point was merely a ritual because these amazing women had already left the nest. 

They were ready to fly!

“We did it!’ Steph said in a call, “It’s time to turn over the reins.” I expected to feel jubilant. Wasn’t that what we’d designed? A program that launches them into the stratosphere where we’re just a distant memory? 

But apparently, success sucks. Almost as much as goodbye which I thought would be super easy. 

Sometimes I can be such an idiot.

So this feeling of Yeah! Hurrah Fuck! has followed me around for most of January, messing up my mojo and muddying up my mood—just like I would warn you it could do—you know, energetically.

I have the keys to the cage I’m in. I know this shit! I have all the spiritual tools I need to get out of this. It’s just that the other day when I was particularly vile—I sold them on EBay. 

One thing I know for sure is that “this too shall pass” but if you say that to me right now—I will hurt you.

We did it! Yeah, Hurrah! Fuck! 

And in one in a month we start again. I will bond and fall in love—and suck.

Pray for me.

Carry on,
xox

 

Hi, I’m Janet

Mentor. Pirate. Dropper of F-bombs.

This is where I write about my version of life. My stories. Told in my own words.

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