For everyone who isn't at Level 5 yet and can't attend the Leap Day event this Thursday night at 6:30pm ET... I'm also having a Super F*ckers Opening Ceremony on Friday, March 1st @ 12pm ET 💥 If you don't know what it means to be a self mastery super f*cker... than you should definitely RSVP and find out 🙏 Here's how you can sign up: https://us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/tZMkd-6hqDsvE9D86eevaiyx7LL3o8IdnUMF PS... If I did an in-person event this fall, which city would you like to see me at most?
a lump lodged in my abdomen rendering me into a 23 year old human ball for the few weeks I study for hours a day for my GRE tests, fall 1993 pacing around my house, outbursts of frustration frantically looking for my purse, car keys, unable to leave for a doctoral course, 1998 while my mom visits me helping me search, but giving deeply concerned glances at me, unsure of who I am then as I wear out earth-colored carpet with each back and forth motion I make as I continue my search frightening chest palpitations in my 45 year old mother of 2 body, who has taken care of our 5 year old son full-time, for the past 2 years while my husband worked a 4 hour round-trip away job at his dad's company, with our daughter at school 20 minutes away, and I also teach 5 online classes after getting my daughter, making dinner, awaiting my husband's return, bath and bedtime rituals piercing needles pulsating in my chest, neck, burning agitated skin percolating between breasts, clavicle, this visceral cacophony starting after our separation in 2017, my move with the kids, homelessness for 3 months government assistance, new job, apt., schools, life, and post-menopause joining the party shortly after my anxiety is my body's warning mechanism that life is off-balance, my spirit, soul, mind, body a washing machine filled with too many heavy wet towels queen-sized comforter the drum unable to handle the overstuffed heaviness 30 plus years of trips to therapists, ER twice, and, finally, a medical diagnosis remind me to not to overload myself, though can't always control this, with my mother's unexpected death, a covert narcissist's psychological abuse, children's illnesses As Yogi B. guides Day 28's meditation, I write my name in cursive on Miami beach, the last fucking beach I've been to, 2003, waves lap over first the J, then i, then double LLs and Jill disappears in this hypnotic state, gratitude envelopes me through his voice, work, this community comprised of once virtual strangers,
I really did not expect this approach to meditation to resonate with me so much, but it really has and is helping me stay consistent! I'm hanging with it and I'm not rolling my eyes while I'm doing it! It's so easy to be so flowery and take meditation too seriously or be a pretentious fucker about it, but this kind of strips the mystique off of it and makes it something I can enjoy. Hell yeah.
So it’s not easy telling your boss that you’ve been told that you have to let her son go. Thankfully the meditation that I saved for yesterday was definitely needed so I’m grateful I followed my intuition. Waking up this morning late, not giving a fuck and walking out to this view, makes it a great morning!! Allow your perception to see the positive And have an amazing fucking day!☀️