Ask The Question






You
want more love.
To
be 
in love. In love with your life.



You want more adventure. More chances, and with
it the chutzpah to grab ’em with both hands, greedily and hungry, knowing you
deserve to dive into every opportunity your belly aches for when nobody else is
looking.




You want to understand how it feels to try –
really, balls-to-the-wall, fuck-it-all
try. To trust yourself in succeeding beyond your
wildest, most inventive daydreams. You can’t even comprehend what is waiting
for you yet: that’s how daring your future is.




You want the security of self to demonstrate,
without permission, without restraint, that your vulnerability is your biggest
strength, and that your humanness is your greatest asset.




You want to know - mind, body, heart and soul -
that who you are is already exactly perfect, and so sod anyone or anything
standing in your way: you’ve got a destiny to Columbus the 
hell out of.



You want to be enough.



I know that sometimes you settle for less-than because the
prospect of daring to ask if you can take up more space, of demanding 
more-than, is crippling. There’s that voice – a voice
stubbornly rooted, deep down in your belly, that whispers, even at your
best: 
nope. You can’t do this.



“What if it doesn’t work?”



“I’ll prove everyone right when I screw this
up.”




“It’s better to be safe than to be sorry.”



“People like me don’t live lives like 
that.



Listen, sugartits. You deserve to conquer the
absolute shit out of your kingdom.
To be the protagonist of your own beautiful
life. You are worthy of the room it takes to spread yourself wide fucking open,
legs akimbo, hands behind your back, surveying the land from your throne as you
say, without a trace of shame, 
here I am. Here’s
what I want.




Know your place. Who the Michelle Obama are you to keep
yourself small? Who the Adele told you to not to swell, not to open
your heart and your wings, lest you fly? Are you telling that to yourself?
FUCKING QUIT IT. Re-write the script. Right now. Actively choose – demand, from
yourself and from the world - to direct your life according to 
your rules. Because your
place? Your place is in the sky, soaring.




Your place is front and centre.



Your place – your purpose - is what you say it
is
.





(I'm gonna repeat that, for emphasis. YOUR PURPOSE IS WHAT YOU SAY IT IS!!!!)



The alternative is a half-life. A half-truth. A
half-
you. The good stuff isn’t designed to only happen to other
people. The universe wants the good stuff for 
you. 



It’s not a 
privilege to know
who you are. You do not need to await consent to show all of your parts. To be
you. To possess your truth.




The show has already begun.



The cameras are rolling and it’s your line.

















What
are you going to say?





*





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