Essays

Managing The Bottomless Pit (An Essay)

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If you’re managing your thoughts,

you’re managing matter.

If you’re managing your emotional state,

you’re managing matter.

If you’re managing your health,

your finances,

your relationships

or any other part of your life,

you’re managing matter.

Seems like a lotta fucking work.

Exhausting, never-ending, bottomless pit work.

Because there will always be thoughts and emotions.

There will always be the body, other people and the bank account.

There will always be the woes of the world and this strange little thing called life.

But those things on their own are never the ‘issue’,

no matter what they are or aren’t comprised of.

It’s all the matter surrounding them that causes you grief.

Clear that and there’s nothing left to ‘manage’.

Every (illusory) problem solved.

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It's Not About The Price (An Essay)

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It’s not: ‘Of course they make a lot of money. Look how much they charge.’

If it was as simple as that, then why don’t you try to charge what they charge and see what happens.

Spoiler Alert:

Nothing will happen.

Because your move wasn’t true.

It was tainted with something artificial to prove.

There are people charging at every single price point for all kinds of things.

Some are making a killing.

Some are not.

And it’s not the price that determines that.

A high price doesn’t guarantee it will be sold.

Nor does a low one.

You already know this.

So it’s not about the price itself.

It’s about what’s actually true.

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Don't Touch Their Shit (An Essay)

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People don’t shit on my posts.

But I see people shitting on other people’s posts.

And then people responding to said shit.

Engaging with said shit.

Thereby creating even more shit.

But here’s the thing.

You don’t have to touch another person’s shit.

Ever.

You can actually just let the person sit in their shit.

You can refuse to partake in their self-created shit show.

And when their thrown-about shit has nowhere to stick,

it lands exactly where it belongs.

With the shit disturber themself.

Who is now being confronted with their shit that wouldn’t stick.

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Through The Eye Of Your Own Needle (An Essay)

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When you’re able to go through the eye of your own needle,

that very narrow space where nothing but you exists,

because you’ve remained so. fucking. close to the absolute truth of your being,

thereby becoming so energetically ‘tight’ that you fit through that very narrow space where nothing but you can move through in the first place…

what’s there for you on the other side,

is the greatest ride of your life.

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Tighter, Baby (An Essay)

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How energetically sharp / clean / tight can you get?

Before you say anything.

Before you do anything.

When you say anything.

When you do anything.

How pure are you willing to be?

Is the true move to actually open that message right now?

To respond to it right now?

To write exactly what you wrote?

Did you even MEAN that?

Or were there add-ons?

Embellishments.

Half truths or whole lies.

Is the true move to answer the phone just because someone’s calling?

Or is it to call that person back?

Or to stop talking to them altogether?

Is the true move to spend your money on that particular thing?

For that amount exactly?

Or to not spend a damn thing.

And save every dollar you get.

Is the true move to take a nap?

To sleep in?

To stay up?

To go a week barely catching a wink?

Each of these things are oh so little but they make up your entire life.

And the way you play with each little thing is then how you conduct your whole life.

So how true are your moves?

How YOU are you?

And how much truth are you leaving on the metaphorical table because you automatically default to false?

Clean it up.

As the fucking boss that you inherently are, you gotta use whatever and whoever is in front of you right now, to make your truest, hottest, yummiest move.

You don’t have to wait for anything or anyone or for something BIG, for you to move like a boss.

No happening is ever too small.

And every single happening is what you must use,

to sharpen your energetic game.

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Anything Less Is A Lie (An Essay)

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My hands shook when I sent her the number for our call ($25,000).

An unexpected but completely accurate number for her and I.

A number I didn’t think my way to.

I just knew in a moment.

It’s this or nothing.

Anything less (or more) - a lie.

A lie that would soften the edge of ME.

And I’d rather die than do such a thing.

She could take it or leave it.

That wasn’t the point.

Nor was the amount I chose.

I’m here to ride my edge all the fucking way,

and see how far I go.

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Late To My Own Party (An Essay)

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Years ago I wrote,

“Why is the world so late to my party?”

Because I knew what I was.

And yet, I could barely touch HER.

And I thought (rather felt; not even consciously - only in retrospect) that if others caught on before I did, I’d somehow land in ME.

Except plenty did catch on.

Plenty saw ME long before I saw HER.

Long before I could live as HER without the split that kept me blind.

It was me not showing up for MY own party.

And I didn’t even know.

All I knew is that it hurt so bad,

to feel so damn far from ME.

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“I heard someone say that you should always be a half a step ahead because otherwise a full step is too far and people aren’t able to follow along. Sure, you stand alone but like… literally all alone. I’ve always felt so far ahead and also very much alone. This need to be understood and followed by others has what has kept me waiting and idling while I hope the world will catch up. Then… before I know it, someone else has created that thing that has been incubating and was now sitting dead and unhatched. To have a finger in the pulse of something that isn’t actually alive yet takes balls and yes... big ole dick energy to carry forth into the world. Always fucking waiting for the world to catch up is a trap. Plus… it’s not even fun doing shit everyone else is doing anyway. Man, what was I thinking.” Kristin Moyer

Overcompensating With Words (An Essay)

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It’s never about the words themselves.

It’s about the energy sourcing them.

Which is why someone can speak or write the most beautiful piece, but you still can’t feel a thing.

It’s flat.

It’s dead.

It’s from the mind.

Not the being.

From a concept.

Not lived truth.

It’s overcompensating with words,

for what has yet to be touched.

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Why You Chase BIG Dreams (An Essay)

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Focusing on a BIG, seemingly ‘unachievable’ dream that happens somewhere ‘out there’ at another time that is definitely not now, is the perfect way to cockblock yourself from making any moves at all.

That’s why you made it so BIG.

To make sure that you wouldn’t move.

And you blame the BIGness of the thing for the moves you aren’t making…

but you’ve created and are using the BIG thing to keep you from going too far.

Of course you can have BIG dreams (which are often just visions of you unobstructed).

But there’s a difference between knowing what you’re here for and making your moves from that knowing…

and experiencing your pulsating desire and doing all that you can to put something, anything, between you and the very thing you’re most afraid to create and own.

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Elixir For Your Being (An Essay)

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Regardless of the move, you can feel if it’s distorted or clean.

The matter is felt.

The lack of it as well.

If you’re not doing a particular thing, and that non-doing comes from avoidance, resistance, resentment, holding back truth, or any other energetically contracted state, it’s palpable.

Dense.

Heavy.

Gross in your system.

If you’re not doing a particular thing just because it’s true not to do it, with nothing attached to that non-doing, it’s clean.

Beautiful.

An elixir for your being.

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You Don't Need Closure (An Essay)

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When you let a situation ‘bleed out’ (come to its natural and inevitable conclusion), you choose not to touch it because it doesn’t require an intervention.

It’s not avoidance.

It’s knowing through discernment.

It’s staying where it’s true.

Not remaining where it’s flat.

And…

It’s not true that you need ‘closure’.

To wrap things up.

To contrive an end point, just so you can say it’s done.

It’s done the moment it flatlines.

Anything beyond that is just more of that.

No need to state the obvious.

Or bring it back to life.

Just stay where it’s most alive,

as everything dead falls away.

(Peep this Mandy Bite)

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The NO And WHOA Are Equal (An Essay)

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Every NO and WHOA is made equal.

Both are sourced from the absolute truth.

Both are hot in the system of anyone in contact with them.

Both are exactly what’s required in that moment (as is a yes/no).

Both add to your knowing (as does a yes/no).

Both source even more art (as does a yes/no).

So you’re always on track with your NO and your WHOA,

birthed right from the death of your yes and your no.

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