0 comments on “It’s ending & not what I expected…..”

It’s ending & not what I expected…..

It’s drawing to the end…

I’m just about to finish my last assignment for the 12 week Write into Light writing course with Martha Beck. Yes, you know how I feel about Martha.

In the last year or so, I have been drawn to writing, more and more. Wanting to express more in that form. So much so, I committed to writing a book.

During one of the Soul Visioning sessions I offer, this course came to me, to share with the receiver. At the time, it didn’t even occur to me that I might be the one who actually does the course.

I signed up at a time that I felt more and more drawn to write. And it is Martha, and well, I am a sucker for spending time with her. I find just being around her energy, even though it is online, I feel more at home in myself.

But if I am completely honest, I signed up because I felt lost on my writing journey. I was sure that my writing was shit and no one wanted to read it and there are so many better writers than me. “Just read Martha’s stuff” I would replay over and over again.

I went in thinking the course would maybe give me that last bit of information to actually trust myself and my ability to write. To finally get this book finished. Maybe I would turn over that one last rock and find the magic key to unlock the hidden world where writing would be effortless and I’d write the book in a week.

That didn’t happen.

In fact, I would go so far as to say, it isn’t a writing course at all.

I know right.

I spent money on a course that was promoted as a writing course. I signed up trusting Martha. Given she is one of my fave writers. One of my fave mentors.

I’d committed to 12 weeks, putting most other distractions aside. And immersing into the space of writing. Chest puffed out. “After this course, I will be an epic writer and all writing there after will be New York best seller material”.

Expectations right?

That didn’t happen.

Yet, of all the courses I have done along the way, this was one of the most transformational.

But not in big ‘rah rah’ motivational kind of way. A more subtle, gentle and deeply connected kind of way.

Be the truth.

Be the change.

Be the light.

The course was broken up into those 3 sections.

Each and every week we had quests to go on. Writing quests.

Soon into the course I realised that writing was what I call, “the hide behind”. It made me chuckle. “Ha, of course it is”.

Humans, in order to explore the truths that lay within, sometimes they need a psychological shield. A “hide behind” I call it.

For example, some have a deep desire to connect with themselves on a deeper level, but don’t know that on a conscious level, so their soul chooses yoga. The soul calms the mind by letting the human believe they are going to “gain flexibility and relax a little bit”, because to declare “I want to connect with myself on a deeper level” is scary as hell y’all. And, not surprisingly, after a while, their initial flexibility story opens up to the bigger truth.

Well, this was the Write into Light writing course for me.

I went in, focussed totally on improving my writing. Hoping that I would find that one last thing that would make writing effortless and easy. That was the hide behind.

For 12 weeks, I did what I knew to do. I just followed the quests. I followed the next right thing. I committed to me.

I felt uncomfortable. I doubted myself at ever corner. I did draft after draft. I felt inspired. I asked for feedback. I gave feedback. I compared myself. I felt confident. I felt small. I met some amazing writers and humans. I felt like I belonged and I felt like an alien.

I was called to look at patterns and stories I make up about myself and life. I was challenged to edit and cut and re-word. I was tested with things I believed as truths but were actually monster lies.

As I am about to complete my last assignment I see now what I actually needed through this course (here is my second last if you want to have a read). 

The biggest thing for me, wasn’t another tool I picked up (even though Martha gives us a thousand), it was a reminder that everything I need, I already have.

And all I need to do, is to commit to myself. Over and over again. To sit with myself. Come home to myself. To listen to myself, both the monsters and the truth fairies. Over and over. Just like me in life.

I fall and I rise. Over and over. And again, and again.

It’s been a lifetime of gathering wayfinder tools, for me. To help me rise. And now, I spend my life enjoying the experience of sharing hat with others to help them rise.

What an exhale it is to see them all and to use them, for me.

*my inner cheer squad rise from the bleachers and cheer*

Let this be a reminder to you sweet one, that everything you need, you already have within you! You do. It isn’t dependent on how many courses you have done or books you have read or adventures you have been on (as cool as all that stuff is). It is you are a spark of unique light in this world. But maybe you have forgotten about that spark. Or haven’t seen it in a while. Perhaps you may just need a fellow wayfinder to remind you and mirror back to you that truth.

Those of you who have experience a Soul Visioning Quest with music and cards, or do one on one coaching with me, you will know that what you get is what your soul already knows to be true! All you needed was to be reminded. And what a beautiful gift that is. If you’d like one, you can go here to find them.

Here is to giving ourselves permission to be with ourselves and connect with the deep well of wisdom we all have…we have just forgotten about.

Until next we meet, be brave, keep showing up and share beautiful you!

Big love


0 comments on ““When Your Friends Start to Bore You” Book Winners.”

“When Your Friends Start to Bore You” Book Winners.

My last blog was what it means when your friends start bore you. One of the most powerful resources I have around this is Martha Beck’s  “elevator” analogy.

I love the analogy so much, in fact I LOVE the book that it came from so much, I bought extra copies to give away.

All that was required was someone to comment and then you would go in the draw to win one.

I closed my eyes and pointed at the computer screen of names and the 2 names came up.

I have emailed both of the winners and I am super pleased to say, that the books are on their way to the lucky folks.

Given I like it so much, it is highly likely that I will be gifting others in the future. It is such fun giving stuff I love away!

If you think you might like to be in with a chance to win a thing or two, follow my blog so you don’t miss the opportunities.

Until next time, have a beautiful weekend.


Big love




0 comments on “One Little Sentence That Has Rocked My World.”

One Little Sentence That Has Rocked My World.

I sent some cards of kindness yesterday, like in my Love Letter Project .

I still do this from time to time when I feel inspired, or bored, or creatively stuck, or just because.

I’m super grateful for the Love Letter Project, for a lot of reasons, but one of the best things that came out if it was one little sentence.

It is a sentence that has helped me navigate some of the darkest times since then. Through the sciatic pain, through the operations Madi underwent, through the recovery of my back surgery.

It’s a sentence that I have come to use, not only in my dark days, but in every day life.

Most mornings now, it is my mediation. My mantra. My contemplation. My asking.

That day when the white pages found it’s way on to our front lawn, after I grumbled and mumbled about it, I got curious. And the more I journey in life, the more I have come to see that it is in our curiosity, life magic occurs.

0 comments on “It Might Surprise You to Know….”

It Might Surprise You to Know….

I write for me…now.

I write here for me…now.

Sometimes folks think I am in their head and wrote stuff just for them.

Sometimes folks love what I write and they send me the most amazing emails and notes. Of which I just love and appreciate. That they would take a moment to first read what I have written and then go so far as to send me a message.

Sometimes folks feel unloved or left out because of what I write here. Sometimes folks wish that they knew the stuff I write about, before I write about it.

Sometimes folks I am sure get super annoyed with what I have written.

Sometimes folks judge me for what I write.

It is a weird thing to not be able to control how your words fall on someone. Or where they fall within in them.


For a very long time, I stopped writing. For me or for anyone.

In my younger years, I kept a journal. Many journals. I wrote my heart into the pages of multiple books.

No one had ever told me that writing in a journal was a good idea. No one ever said, “buy a book to write in and it will make you feel a whole lot better”. I fact, I can’t actually recall the moment I thought it was a good idea. But somewhere around 14 when I my period started I think, I started writing.

For me.

That’s the thing with journals. You write for you, about you, and with you. And in the writing, there is a visibility of what it is that is happening. More often than not, the page reveals a truth that the mind can’t let you see. It is like the heart has a direct line to the pen.

At 16, my boyfriend at the time, told me he had read my journals because he was “curious”.

At that young age I couldn’t have articulated what it really felt like. But after the same thing happened at 25, I am pretty clear now.

Those of you who have read anything about me, or know me at all, you know that my upbringing, while filled with love from my mother, was a little unsettling.

I sought solace therapeutically in  music and in writing and dysfunctionally in an eating disorder and promiscuity.

I wrote all about it all. Especially the dysfunction.

After my second round of intrusion in to my inner world at 25, I stopped writing. Full stop. Quit. Stopped.

I had carried my journals with me, all 18 of them, when I went travelling across Australia at 24. I packed up all my belongings into my little Hyundai Excel and off I went. Gold Coast to Perth. It didn’t seem like a big deal given my few trips from Gold Coast to Townsville. Perth just seemed like the next destination when I returned home from overseas.

Packed tightly in with all my clothes, books and guitar (which I still can’t play), my heart spills travelled along.

And I wrote about my journeys. About the divine folks I met. The roads I took. The amazing scenery. How it felt on my journey. Well at least I am pretty sure that is what I wrote about.

On that trip, I met a boy who later became my boy friend and later my fiancé.

He packed his stuff up too and off we went travelling together.

Along came my writings.

Melbourne we settled.

We unpacked.

Found jobs.

Somewhere to live.

We planned our wedding.

And so you would think it would seem okay for that person to read my heart filled journals. All the words I had used from a wee young age all the way through to an adult.

All the pain of dysfunction. The first loves. The ‘not so great’ decisions. And those not so great decisions it seems he didn’t have a very good time with.

He never told me he read them. Well not until…

What does your intuition feel like to you? Where do you feel that ‘hmmmm’ feeling?

I’ve always felt my intuition sits in the spaces between. Space between what is being said. In the spaces. When there are no words. Or after the words are spoken and a full body conversation begins. A sweet hum. “Hmmmm”. A sense in my body. Sometimes it feels like a push in my gut. Other times it is fluttering in my chest.

I remember the day I returned home from work after his sick day.

And the gut push hit. In the silence.

“Hmmmm” feeling.

And on we went.

A week passed.

Something was so different.

Weekends we usually went out together. That following weekend, he went out. With the guys from work.

‘Hmmm’ feeling.

I talked myself out of the feeling though. “It’s good he’s made friends here”.

He didn’t come home that night.

I didn’t sleep that night.

It’s funny. As I write this in real time with the music playing, this song plays. Where were you when this was all going on when I was 25? Oh, not born probably!


So, he didn’t come home. I didn’t sleep.

This weird behaviour went on for a while.

The ‘hmmmm’ continued.

Finally in a confrontation of this weird and it all fell on the floor. Like thousands of small ball bearings threatening to undo my safe ground. Freezing me in my little space. Inhaled.

The truth.

And when the truth comes, it hurts sometimes. A lot sometimes. I’ve come to live this intimately.

I think this is why we don’t actually want to trust the ‘hmmmm’ because we know it is going to hurt if it is true. A lot. And we wish it away, praying and hoping it isn’t true. Denial is a deceptively safe place to hide…initially. A hot place to hide long term.

He took exception to some of my past ‘not so great’ decisions. Decisions I made as a very young and often troubled person, and at a time when he wasn’t a part of my life. Those words seemingly didn’t seem to matter.

It didn’t end then, but it was destined to.

I ripped up those books. 20 journals. Each and every page ripped up. I sat on the bed and cried years of heart pain. Years of truths. And tears of self judgement and self loathing. I was a bad person. I had evidence of it in these books. So they had to be destroyed.

And after they were destroyed, we would be fine…right?

And that is where the writing stopped.

That thing that had carried me through all those years, not a moment of therapy except for that which I sought in the pages of a journal.


My power left. I felt like I gave it to him.

It took over 10 years to start writing again.


4 years ago I started to write again because truly, I just couldn’t NOT anymore.

I felt like I needed to write for others. To help others.

So, instead of journaling I stared a blog on Facebook called Expanding the Heart Space. If you google it I don’t think you can find it…hang on…So, I am wrong. Turns out there is still a blog, not on Facebook, but an actual blog. Funny the things I forget.

Initially it was a scary as hell but I thought I was helping folks, so it was worth it.

A year or so later, I realised I was writing for me.

After I had written something, so often I couldn’t even remember what I had written. Like something had taken over me.

So I would read it again.

And more often than not, what I had written was exactly what I needed to read. In one way or another.

I was scared to admit the truth though. I was really writing for me.

Scared of judgment. Of oversharing. Of offending. Of pissing people off. Of getting it wrong.

It’s literally like having all that heart held in your hands and asking the world to stab it if they want.

In a weird twist of truth and grace, what I have come to see, is that I get far more support and “me too” moments than I do negative judgement. More often I am reminded I am not alone. I love SO much getting emails from folks who have read something about what I have written, about how it has fallen on them.

I do love it SO.

And still, ultimately I write for me.

If I inspire you to take a risk, or open up, or share, or feel brave enough to do something you didn’t think you could…oh how my heart sings!

And I write for me.

Even if you were in the room with me now, I would be writing this and not necessarily talking to you about the content. I can’t. The stuff that I write comes though me in a a way that I find difficult to articulate. All I know, is there is a level of trust I have that I have of myself now, that I didn’t before.

If my writing triggers folks, which I am sure it does, I trust that that is their business. Not mine. I wouldn’t disrespect anyone enough to not be honest.

And still, ultimately I write for me.

This is my love. My time. My space. My right. And my power.

I feel free when I write.

I feel light when I write.

I feel connected when I write.

I feel creative when I write.

I feel inspired when I write.

I learn more about myself when I write.

And if folks get offended, or triggered, or pissed, or annoyed or whatever they might get….

I write for me.

And if you are lucky enough for me to write about you, and you don’t like it….

I subscribe to the Anne Lammot position, if people don’t like what you write about them, then maybe they should have been kinder. 🙂

And in no surprise, this is the song is playing as I type this.

I write for me.


Writing in a group interests me. So in July if you want to come and be with like hearted souls and get some juices flowing, we’d love you to come along. On the Gold Coast. If you want to be added to the list of folks who are already coming along, email me here for more information.






2 comments on “Martha, Spoons and the Unknown….and Me.”

Martha, Spoons and the Unknown….and Me.

I haven’t written anything in the longest time. And that actually feels good to me right now.

When a severe storm is raging and the windows are shaking, and there a leaks in the roof, writing about it isn’t the most relaxing of experiences. Writing in general doesn’t seem so important. Not as important as breathing and living. Although I am sure many would argue that writing is exactly that for them…seemingly not for me.

Life has been a bit stormy in our world recently. Something that I wasn’t prepared for. And in this case, I am not sure how much preparation we could have done for this life storm. And frankly, I am done thinking about it. Or trying to understand it. It bores me to be honest.

It’s raining outside at the moment and I can hear the squeals and ‘nah nah na na nah’s’ of the kids next door as they run around in it playing their games. Ooooo, and now I can hear the familiar song…”happy birthday to you…”. Celebration.

I’m pleased I noticed it. It made me smile.

Is this really what I wanted to write about today?

The truth is, as I lay here (still not great at sitting), I don’t really know what to say or write.

I feel a bit out of practice, or blocked. Do you ever get like that?

And for the first time in my life, I have no inclination to judge that, or try to understand it. I can just leave it the fuck alone as a part of my life experience. Take a big breath and exhale and just let my fingers move. Leave them alone. Leave my mind alone. Just let it be.

So much and yet so little has happened since last I wrote, that I’m not sure what wants to come out. If anything at all does. So, I write in the mystery of what might show up….

This is probably the difference in me now, after this last crazy arse life storm that our family experienced. I can actually admit…and be marginally okay with the fact….. that I have no fucking idea of what is going to happen next.

Not a one.

Despite my life long efforts to tweak and control everything so that it was exactly how I wanted it to be.

What a fucking exhausting way to live. I would know, because I was living it.

I’ve tried to write a bunch of stuff to explain the shift I have had recently….and deleted it. It just wasn’t coming through smoothly.

So instead I’m going to put it down and let this little clip by one of my favourite life guides and fellow Wayfinder explain it to you instead.

Martha Beck is by far one of my favourite people (despite the fact I haven’t met her and don’t actually know her….yet).

Since the very first time I saw her on the Oprah Winfery show back in the 1990’s I have felt her words resonate so deeply with me…and no more so that when I participated in her webinar called, “Five Paths to Your Purpose” a few days ago. I’ll blog about it later, because I don’t know that you can watch it if you didn’t sign up. But the nuggets of wisdom are chunky…for real!

The clip I am going to share today though, is one that is available to all. One that I hope will resonate with you. And if it does, please send me a wee message. I’d love to connect with you about this. It means that we are on the same team…

Oh….teams…I love teams. We call our family The Little Lean Team and Martha write about folks who she believes are on “THE Team”…..I want to write about teams…

Ahhhh and there it is….the unblock!

Enough rambling.

This clip is a few mins long but so worth your time. If you aren’t familiar with “Spoon Theory”, please acquaint yourself now…

Martha Beck and Spoon Theory.

Of course if you know anyone who might relate to the Spoon Theory…please pass it on.

Big, big love








0 comments on “My 3 testers. No, not testies!”

My 3 testers. No, not testies!

What are the things that you do that are like, so easy and effortless for you?

The things that when you do it and you get feedback you’re all like, “Um, well, everyone can do that?”.

What are those things?

Maybe it’s your ability to walk into a room and make connections easily.

Maybe it is sensing how folks are feeling just by being next to them.

Maybe it is whipping up a kick ares FB status that gets everyone excited and inspired.

Maybe it is helping folks with parenting issues, or friendship issues or relationships issues or technical issues.

Often we overlook our strengths because they come completely natural to us.

We just assume that what we can do comes naturally to everyone else.


And how are you using those gifts? The world is a better place if we are using our gifts in it! 

I have met a lot of folks who say they have no gifts. No strengths and then when we sit and chat for bit we see they have a LOT of strength. A LOT of gifts. They just haven’t been still enough and have too much BS belief set in the way that they can’t see it.

Strengths strengthen when we use them. Like lifting weights.

So, strengths will always be present, but if you want to grow them…you going to have to practice using them.

If your gift is making people feel welcome and included, what groups are you involved in?

If your gifts is seeing other peoples capabilities, what conversations are you setting up to explore that?

If your intuition and psychic ability is your strength, what experiences are you opening up to so that you can strengthen them.

If you gift is the gift of the gab, what are you doing each day to use this strength?

And how fulfilled are you feeling?

I love to write, but is it my strength? It is now. It was a curious interest for a lot of years, but I never believed I was a ‘writer’. That was for people who excelled at English at school, and while I did ok, I was no Tolstoy. It is a strength because I practice. A lot. I write A LOT…now.

And this isn’t about comparing my strength. If I compare it with a multi-award winning writer then no, it doesn’t look like a strength at all. But if I just look at how I feel when I am using this strength…I put it to the gift test.

Here are my 3 testers when I am looking at or for my gifts (yes I am still uncovering them).

  1. Does time just vanish when I am writing?
  2. Do I feel free and expansive and like this is FUN when I am writing?
  3. Do I receive positive feedback from people about my writing?

And I apply this to other things I do as well.

I’ve done with with heaps of clients as well! Turns out, some of us humans are far more gifted that we would believe!

You insert your thing where I have written writing…and see what happens.

Tell me, do you know what your strengths are. Your gifts? And how are you using them in the world?

I’d love to hear!

Big love






0 comments on “THIS is the real question!”

THIS is the real question!

You know the old question, what would you do with your life if money wasn’t and issue?

You know how most of us say, “Oh I would quite my job and buy a boat and sail around the world”. Actually, I don’t know anyone who has said that to me. Maybe my husband has. My husband loves boats. Ask him, he’ll tell you! Hmmm.

Yesterday my friend and I took a car trip to a beautiful spot in Northern NSW, to a place that always seems to recharge, inspire and invigorate me.

On the way home, while we were both trying to stay awake (hello sneaky vino at lunch), we played the “what would you do if money wasn’t and issue.

The temptation is to think of all the things you would do with the money. Like pay off the house, or move house, or build a house, or go on a holiday or buy a flash car or..you know, all the material stuff.

But this isn’t the question.

The real question is:

What would YOU DO WITH YOUR LIFE if money wasn’t an issue? 

As we played with this question, I notices many things, but as I digested it later, I noticed that really, the things that we would do are actually really simple. Humble and yet so meaningful. Gentle even.

We broke it down into a week.

So what would the week look like?

For me, each day or at least one day would involve some creative expression.

Writing inspiring content.

Speaking about shit I am passionate about.

Dancing by myself and with others.

Each day or at least one day, would have some connection opportunity. Volunteering. Teaching. Meeting in groups to share our passions and creative expressions.

Music. I’d listen to music. I’d gift people music.

Each day would have some family time. But play time. Not serious homework stuff. Where all of are expressing our own unique gifts. Individually and collectively. We might even have Mrs Doubtfire come hang with us so that hubby and I can do some of that stuff together as well. Just us.

And everyday, I would learn something. Something inspiring. New. A new perspective. A new skill. A new way.

I’d be of service to humans who want to love their lives. And maybe to those who don’t even know that that they don’t love their lives.

I’d help folks who struggle with themselves.

I’d listen to folks. Deeply listen. And challenge the parts of themselves that aren’t open to love.

THIS is just SOME of the stuff that I would do if I didn’t have to worry about money. EVER.

Ironically, when I review the list, I see that well, for the most part, that is my life already.

So it is today, with gratitude I say, WHAT AN AWESOME life.

It is today I am grateful to the support of my husband.

It is today I feel ready to take another step up. Another step to use my life to create stuff.

Stuff that no body may care about. Just stuff that matters to me!


Anyone ready to step up with me?


As always, I love to hear from you. Where you are. What you are up to. What you are creating! hearing form you matters to me!

Big, big love