Three things happened yesterday.

First, I pulled a card out of a deck at random.

A virtual deck, but still. Same idea.

And this is what the card said: “It’s safe for me to take big income leaps.”

And though I know this statement is true in my head and my heart, I couldn’t stop this overwhelming attitude of “Pffft, yeah right” from taking over me.

But for some reason, I don’t quite know what, I caught myself.

It’s the sort of situation where we usually let ourselves go, finding that kind of response permissible because of ALL the evidence of past ideals and big dreams that didn’t quite go our way.

It’s logical, right?

Sensible, even, isn’t it? To write someone off when they tell us that we can be rich, powerful, and happy beyond our wildest dreams.

Second, my boyfriend found a fortune cookie at work and told me he was opening it on my behalf.

When he opened it, this is what it said: “You create your own stage and your audience is waiting.”

Um, hello. Spot-on, much?

It felt insanely empowering, and we both knew it was true in regards to the business I’ve built and am continuing to build.

Third, I read an email from Laura Jane Williams’s Ask the Question.

And in it, she got so real it was uncomfortable.

She spoke about how she’d been so burnt out and depressed in the last year, and how all she wanted to do moving forward was to protect herself to make sure that didn’t happen again.

Can you blame her?

But she also talked about how three different people in her life called her out for not living up to her potential… even though she’d published a fucking book this year, for goodness sakes.

And as I read it, I got a sinking feeling.

I’ve done a lot this year and have had a ton of what I’d consider major successes.

But I just know deep in my bones that I’m destined for more.

And I know that that attitude of “Yeah right, fuck off” towards the card about making big income leaps is a fear that’s there just trying to protect my fragile emotions. But at the same time, I can’t help think of Elizabeth Gilbert‘s attitude towards fear, which is basically, DO NOT let that motherfucker in the driver’s seat of your life.

So here’s how these 3 things came together to make me realize I was cursing my 2017 goals before I set them:

1. I didn’t take a promise of greatness seriously

2. I was told I was destined for greatness anyway

3. I got a strong kick in the ass to stop being such a lazy bitch about making things happen

And to be honest, when I came to this realization, I felt a little sick.

I mean, am I not the one who’s always preaching that anything is possible, telling everyone how powerful we all are, and what bad asses we can be if we just buck up, make a to-do list, and do the work?

I didn’t know exactly how to break myself out of that pattern in that moment, but I did do this:

Instead of going to the 1 hour vinyasa flow class I planned on attending that night, I went to the 1.5 hour warm vinyasa flow class that was longer and I knew involved so much sweat it’d drip down off my fingertips.

I didn’t want to, because yesterday was a gloomy day and I felt tired.

But there was no real reason why I couldn’t do the harder class. And honestly, the only reason I was considering the easier class was because I was rationalizing illegitimate excuses for my own laziness under the guise of “protecting” my own energy supply.

But actually, as I found out in that yoga class… and as I feel like I’ll find out in 2017… it’s not about protecting your limited energy.

Instead, it’s about unleashing it in a strong way to create domino effect in your own favor.

Because when I finished that harder yoga class, I felt so much better than I would have if I’d opted to sweat less.

(Side note: I think this fear/protection mindset was what led to that burnout I had last month.)

Right now, I feel like the idiot treading water in the middle of the diving pool.

It takes less energy than swimming, and she can maintain it easily, so that’s what she’s doing.

But if she’d just reach her arms out and push some of that deep water behind her, she’d get to the edge of the pool rather quickly. Then she could take a shower, put on some dry clothes, and go home to some true rest.

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And you know what? I really want to stop being that idiot.

Because she is just so senseless.

Let’s swim our asses off in 2017. Will you join me?


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