It’s my turn.
And when I say that, I don’t mean that I get a turn and that you don’t.
It’s my turn to spin my own wheel of fortune. (Please think tarot card and not game show. Unless Vanna White inspires you to take action and make something amazing. Personally, I find Betty White a more inspiring figure, but to each their own.)
If you’d like, we can stand back to back and set our own worlds turning. We could hold hands and turn and spin together too, each held by our own center of gravity.
The momentum of my turning will feed yours, just as yours will feed mine. We’ll share the journey, but we’ll each stay sovereign and complete unto ourselves. We’ll be moved by our own unique power, and in doing so, we’ll empower one another. And that will prove that we love and respect each other. That will prove that we love and respect the individual pilgrim soul within that’s ours alone to tend.
As I take my turn it feels important to say something: in exactly two months, I kiss my thirties goodbye.
I’m still far from my life’s halfway mark. Did you hear that, universe? I stand in my thirty-nine years of wisdom, of passion, of foolishness. I stand in all my selflessness, selfishness, glory, and fear and say: I’m just getting started. My own mother might have died at sixty, but I’m shooting for at least one hundred seven, and I intend to make them all count.
There’s so more magic, so more insight, so much more power within me just waiting to be unfurled. I’m thrilled that I can barely imagine the potential. Right now, it’s ok that I don’t know exactly where I’m headed. It’s somewhere glorious, and I seem to be making really good time.
None of us knows where we’re heading, of course. You take your turn not because you know the outcome and can predict the next three moves. You take your turn because you’re scared, because you’re sure, because you’ve waited this long already, and because you’ve been hurtling, inching, sliding toward this moment for your whole life.
I’m taking my turn because, after years of living just a bit outside of my own story, my own heart, my own body, I’ve finally arrived somewhere. After years of longing and searching, everything has gotten so rich and real… Finally! It only took an entire lifetime to achieve this overnight transformation.
Deep down, I always knew this was possible. Deep down, I always knew the only way to change the world was to change myself. I knew it, but I didn’t believe it until now.
Damn, this sounds like a bit delicious dreaming in the midst of the world and its chaos, right?
I dream of sovereignty. In this dream, I choose myself. I choose this bit of earth beneath my feet and this collection of my favorite people. I choose this community, this work, and these words.
Yes, it’s all so delicious. But, deep inside, there’s still this dark little urge. You know the one. It’s that urge to berate yourself for all that wasted time, energy, and opportunity. It’s the urge to hate yourself just a little bit for the lost days, weeks, or even decades. It’s the urge to laugh at the woman who is so bold and daft, who dares to believe in the instant alchemy of transformation. It’s that urge to say “who do you think you are?” with the venomous sneer of an insecure bully.
Yeah, the timid little mean girl inside me wants to scoff and hide when I make all these powerful, grown up declarations.
But then I realize that any part of me that can’t believe in my own sovereignty, in my own power, in the fact that it’s my turn is a relic from the past. Those parts of myself exist in my memory, not in my current reality. The “not me,” “not yet,” and “I couldn’t possibly” chapter has ended. I could go back and reread it and try to revert back to the old stories, but inviting that sort of misery doesn’t really seem worth the effort.
I need to take all the energy I’ve got and pay it toward the future. It’s my turn after all.
Maybe you’re like me and you’re feeling all kinds of ecstatic and all kinds of worried at this shift into “It’s my turn. I choose me. I trust myself to use my focus and my power to make magic that will make this world more beautiful, bearable, and bold.”
We’ve been conditioned to be nice kids who let the loud ones, the eager ones, and the needier ones go first. We’ve been taught to make sure everyone is pleased and comfy. We’ve been trained to be practical and responsible. We’re the smart ones. The dependable ones. We’ve gotten used to taking refuge in our fantasies but we can’t imagine seeing that fantastical stuff happen in real life.
We keep on waiting. And waiting. Until one day, it’s not about the waiting any more.
Instead, it’s about being brave and crazy, centered and compassionate, irreverent and wise and saying “it’s my turn.”
In my world, taking my turn means declaring my own personal and creative sovereignty.
Sovereignty is about freeing the princess (that’s the brave and crazy part). Sovereignty is about crowning the queen (that’s the centered and compassionate part). Sovereignty is about embracing the wise woman (that’s the irreverent and wise part).
Sovereignty is about encountering all these aspects of yourself and finding your essential self in the center of all this magic, confusion, and possibility.
It’s my turn to really hold space for these sovereignty teachings and offer them to you. It’s your turn to start to look at what your sovereign story looks and feels like to you.
Join me for The Sovereign Awakening, the new program that will inspire you to take your turn and give you the tools to live and tell your Sovereign Story.