Here are three topics that fit the Liberators’ Lounge vibe—light, meaningful, and naturally connective: 1. “Wins, Wobbles & What’s Next” Share a recent win, a current challenge, and one thing you’re moving toward. It keeps things real, reflective, and forward-focused. 2. “Serendipity & Support”What do you need right now—and what can you offer? This opens the door for organic collaboration, referrals, and unexpected magic. 3. “Liberation in Action”What does freedom look like in your work or life right now? This invites deeper, purpose-driven conversation while still staying personal and inspiring. SEE THE CALENDAR for your Timezone 🗓️

A traveler walks into a village carrying a heavy backpack. The villagers ask, “What’s in there?” He says, “All the mistakes I’ve ever made.” They laugh and say, “Why carry that around?” So he shrugs, sets it down… and immediately picks up a bigger bag labeled “What people think of me.” Moral: Some baggage isn’t even yours—but it’s the heaviest kind to carry. #renanicole

I had the honour of receiving a storyteller reading from the very gifted @Rena Nicole. She has the ability to craft beautiful and profound stories and anthems for people, just by asking them a few questions. If you haven't booked a a reading with her yet, I highly recommend you do! Listening to the anthem she created for me brought tears to my eyes. I felt the emotions and vibrations of this song through my body. Have a listen to this anthem, and let me know what you think 💛: “I Rise” I used to stand at the edge of the room Heart beating loud like a warning in bloom Watching the world while I stayed in the shade Smiling outside while I quietly frayed I told myself I was just not that kind The one who could speak with a fearless mind But deep in the silence a fire would say You were not born just to hide away Every tremble, every doubt Every fear I lived without Wasn’t there to make me small It was the doorway through it all So I rise Bigger than fear, bigger than shame I’m not here to play small again I’ve got a voice, I’ve got a flame And I will not disappear again I’m stepping out, I’m standing tall Even if my hands still shake I was never meant to hide at all I’m the hero that my heart will make I used to think I had to be right Perfect and polished to stand in the light But truth came in like a sacred wind You don’t need armor to begin I learned that courage is not feeling none It’s taking the step when the fear still comes And every moment I stay with me Becomes the proof of who I’m meant to be Every silence, every scar Only showed me who You are Deep within, the wiser voice Saying, Wendy, now it’s time to choose So I rise Bigger than fear, bigger than shame I’m not here to play small again I’ve got a voice, I’ve got a flame And I will not disappear again I’m stepping out, I’m standing tall Even if my hands still shake I was never meant to hide at all I’m the hero that my heart will make

A Chapter from the Book of Return by R.N.Morabe When Adam died, he expected answers. He expected scales and books and the solemn architecture of judgment. He expected the weight of all his years to gather around him and tell him, at last, what his life had meant. Instead, he woke in a field of silver grass beneath a sky that shimmered like the inside of a pearl. No sun. No moon. And yet everything glowed. The air was cool and sweet with the scent of fig leaves after rain. In the distance, a river wound through the land like a ribbon of living glass, and every blade of grass seemed to hum with a music too soft to hear and too true to ignore. Adam sat up slowly. His body no longer ached. The old heaviness was gone—the burden of years, the labor in his bones, the ache of regret he had carried even when he had no words for it. He stood. “Am I dead?” he asked aloud. The field did not answer in language, but something in it bent gently toward him, as if to say: You have passed through. Ahead, there stood a gate. But it was not the gate he remembered. There was no flaming sword. No cherubim barring the way. This gate was woven from light itself—living light, warm and conscious, as if it had been spun from mercy and memory together. Adam took one step toward it. Then he heard a voice behind him. “You still walk as though you are trying to return to something behind you.” He froze. A woman stood beneath a great fig tree whose roots shimmered beneath the earth like veins of gold. Her hair moved in the windless air as if stirred by invisible tides. Her face held the stillness of ancient stone and the danger of uncharted night, yet there was no malice in her. Only presence. A presence so complete it unsettled him. He knew her before he allowed himself to know her. “Lilith,” he said. Lilith regarded him in silence. No accusation in her gaze. No welcome, either. Only truth. Adam swallowed. “I thought you were gone.” Lilith tilted her head slightly.

Chris Howard is a great coach who runs his trainings in-person-only all over the world. Let’s join one of his workshops! What do you think of the Hero’s Anthem I wrote for my friend and mentor? (I researched the origin story of his name to write this song.)