because none of us is fucking up like we think we are, is what i'm trying to say

Friday, 28 October 2016

Ask The Question


You want more love. To be in love. In love with your life.

You want more adventure. More chances, and with it the chutzpah to grab ’em with both hands, greedily and hungry, knowing you deserve to dive into every opportunity your belly aches for when nobody else is looking.

You want to understand how it feels to try – really, balls-to-the-wall, fuck-it-all
try. To trust yourself in succeeding beyond your wildest, most inventive daydreams. You can’t even comprehend what is waiting for you yet: that’s how daring your future is.

You want the security of self to demonstrate, without permission, without restraint, that your vulnerability is your biggest strength, and that your humanness is your greatest asset.

You want to know - mind, body, heart and soul - that who you are is already exactly perfect, and so sod anyone or anything standing in your way: you’ve got a destiny to Columbus the 
hell out of.

You want to be enough.

I know that sometimes you settle for less-than because the prospect of daring to ask if you can take up more space, of demanding more-than, is crippling. There’s that voice – a voice stubbornly rooted, deep down in your belly, that whispers, even at your best: nope. You can’t do this.

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“I’ll prove everyone right when I screw this up.”

“It’s better to be safe than to be sorry.”

“People like me don’t live lives like 
that.

Listen, sugartits. You deserve to conquer the absolute shit out of your kingdom. To be the protagonist of your own beautiful life. You are worthy of the room it takes to spread yourself wide fucking open, legs akimbo, hands behind your back, surveying the land from your throne as you say, without a trace of shame, 
here I am. Here’s what I want.

Know your place. Who the Michelle Obama are you to keep yourself small? Who the Adele told you to not to swell, not to open your heart and your wings, lest you fly? Are you telling that to yourself? FUCKING QUIT IT. Re-write the script. Right now. Actively choose – demand, from yourself and from the world - to direct your life according to 
your rules. Because your place? Your place is in the sky, soaring.

Your place is front and centre.

Your place – your purpose - is what you say it is.

(I'm gonna repeat that, for emphasis. YOUR PURPOSE IS WHAT YOU SAY IT IS!!!!)

The alternative is a half-life. A half-truth. A half-you. The good stuff isn’t designed to only happen to other people. The universe wants the good stuff for you. 

It’s not a 
privilege to know who you are. You do not need to await consent to show all of your parts. To be you. To possess your truth.

The show has already begun.

The cameras are rolling and it’s your line.

What are you going to say?

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