Why I Use the Word "Sovereignty" A Lot Less These Days

Have you ever considered how a knot can be both a terrible tangle of string or an intricately crafted design, like in those ancient Celtic manuscripts?

Right now, I have knots on my mind but, once upon a time, like three years ago, every story I told was woven around big idea: Sovereignty.

Sovereignty is a gloriously complicated word (as all the best words are, like love, freedom, mystic, petrichor, onomatopoeia).  As I understand the way sovereignty works in my own life, it's about personal agency, the quest for self-knowledge, and the commitment to greater wisdom. In my lived understanding, it is about channeling that power to help others find their sovereignty so the collective can become more equitable, healthy, and evolved.

When we all have access to our own sovereignty, then we can pool our strength. And when that happens, we just might have a chance of cleaning up our act and cleaning up our earth.

Of course, sovereignty has its other aspects. It's a word that describes the borders of nation states. And, it is a word that can be applied to how you wish to control the borders of your own body. Reproductive rights are a matter of deeply important body sovereignty.

When you reflect on a phrase like “body sovereignty,” it makes sense that folks who question the validity and the necessity of the Covid vaccine call on "sovereignty" as one of their reasons for resisting the shot. (Of course, sovereignty tends to get lost in the midst of all the conspiracy theories, and that is a separate yet inextricably related issue best left to other writers to explore on another day.) 

It’s important to note that by "it makes sense" I am saying that I understand that certain people who are attracted to the concept of "self-governing" choose to call their anti-vaccination position a "sovereign" stance. What doesn't make sense to me is how folks would willfully risk place even more strain on a healthcare system that is at its breaking point and further jeopardizes populations that truly can’t be vaccinated. 

That said, I'm not seeking a conversation about vaccines right now. (Really, please don't email me about what you think of the politics, science, or spirituality of the shots. That's not why I am telling you this story.)

Instead, I am writing about vaccinations and the discourse around them because I've been quietly pulling back from "sovereignty" for a while, and it felt important to tell you why.

As creatives, we fall in love with a new idea and describe its development in detail. It's all too rare that we describe why we're taking stock, pulling back, and allowing the past season's words to serve as compost for the new ideas to come.

We'll leave this part of the conversation here: back when I wrote The Sovereignty Knot, I advocated sovereignty in service to the collective because, then as now, there's no wisdom in imagining every decision you make is yours alone.

These Days, It's All About the Knot

My book, The Sovereignty Knot: A Woman’s Way to Freedom, Power, Love, and Magic, came out in February 2020, just as this novel coronavirus was starting to make headlines. Never could I have expected our world to be tied in such unspeakable knots and to see sovereignty come up so often in conversation. 

In light of all the individual and collective struggle of the last two years, the knot seems even more compelling–and full of creative potential–than my original concept of sovereignty.

The knot allows for the reality of the tangle and the beauty and strength of deliberate design. It lets us be who we are. The knot also allows us to do better, weave our words and actions more intentionally, and recover from past mistakes. 

The knot is about commitment and the ties that bind. The knot is about community and the support that comes with sharing ideas, asking hard questions, and living in the uncertainty together.

In Light of All This, I Am Committing to the Knot Throughout 2022

Here are three ways to join me as we spiral through the knots and work out the tangles as we go:

The Open Writers’ Knot is the first free community writing practice of the year. It's coming up next Wednesday, January 19 at noon ET.

When we write together, and form a community even for an hour, we strengthen the creative container and all gain the courage to confront the knots of narrative and ideas that may confound us when we write alone. This event is for writers and non-writers, leaders and dreamers, seekers and wisdom keepers who are ready to meet themselves on the page

As I hope you’ve heard by now, the KnotWork Podcast debuts on 2.2.22.

The new show is devoted to untangling our myths and reweaving our stories. Each episode features a story from mythology or folklore and a deep dive discussion into why that old tale still matters to us today. Please follow the show on Instagram and Facebook, and plan to subscribe to the show in a few weeks!

• Finally, the Sovereign Writers' Knot, my online community, will form again in early March for another 13-week journey.
  
  If you’re seeking a supportive community and a creative incubator to conceive or continue your writing project, this could be the ideal group for you.

The Winter Solstice, the Cailleach, and the Struggle With the Light

This is a damn strange time to make plans for renewal.

Today there is scarcely 

a dwelling-place I could recognize; 

what was in flood 

is all ebbing.

- The Lament of the Old Woman of Beare

‘Tis the season to read ninth century Gaelic poems.

Oh, wait, is that just me?

Well, I always told my mother I would never be popular because I could never be like the other girls.

That’s what I said thirty years ago as a middle schooler with (undiagnosed) depression. Now, I’m the mother of a middle schooler, and we’re wiser about what depression is and we’re watching for its signs in ourselves and in loved ones as 2021 fades into 2022.

This year, I am aware of a heaviness in the air that seems to mute the lights on the tree and makes my old favorite songs sound a little off-key. I’ve been trying to push it away and stay busy, to keep smiling and keep planning so that mom’s optimism can carry my spiritually eclectic family through our sacred cluster of holidays: the Winter Solstice, Christmas, the College Bowl games, the New Year, and the Feast of the Epiphany.

And, of course, as an entrepreneur who offers what has become an annual event to reflect on the passing year and envision the year to come, I really need to find the joy and possibility and turn on my megawatt grin in the midst of the “bleak midwinter.”

But really… do I? And honestly, can I?

Are We Ready for the Return of the Light? 

This December, the tears are closer to the surface than they have been in memory. (You may be feeling the same, even if the gratitude and the hope are right there at the surface, too.)

It’s the usual grief and longing that comes with the holiday memories. In our house, this is the first Christmas my husband and I will have with both of our moms gone.

And, of course, it’s the news of the new variant and how ill-equipped our nation and our global community are in the face of it. It’s the deepening divisions as public health becomes a matter of personal belief, rather than devotion to collective well-being. It’s the long weekend I spent in bed after my Covid booster, feverish and achy. It’s the call that family members were exposed and cannot be here on Christmas Eve.

And, it’s this time of year when we are all ready to celebrate the return of the light. 

The question is, are we just that jazzed up about the lengthening days or are we just yearning for relief from a darkness that has become too long, too dense, too real? 

To make our celebration of the returning light into something meaningful, we need to be willing to see the reality all around us. We need to acknowledge the darkness and reckon with the fact that none of this is just a story about the color of the sky. 

Because really, what’s the big deal about a few more minutes of daylight in an already well-lit room?

At the time of the Winter Solstice, we’re supposed to be feeling the hollowness, and even the sorrow and the uncertainty at this time of year. (And this is when we remember we live in a great big world, and our friends in the Southern Hemisphere are having a distinctly different and yet utterly related experience right now.)

Here, where nights are long and days are preoccupied with last minute work and preparations for holiday cheer, the difficult feelings are more accessible than ever. 

And yes, we need to give ourselves a chance to acknowledge and speak them aloud, even when we’re more afraid than ever before that the hollowness of sorrow and uncertainty will take over if we dare stop smiling.

A Different Way to Look at the Solstice In What’s Another Very Different Year

The business as usual, festivities as expected, planning as proscribed model just doesn’t seem to work any more.

This isn’t admitting defeat or refusing to try to put on a brave face. 

Taking a moment (or more) to pause and be with the reality of our current darkness feels utterly necessary right now. It’s the only way to be in integrity. It’s the only way to make way for magic and renewal in the new year.

Here, for those of us in the midst of the darkest point in the year, this is the time to sit with the weight of the shadows and in the presence of our fears.

For me, that looks like pouring an extra cup of tea and revisiting an ancient poem by an Irish woman from West Cork who went by the name of Digde. This is a time to listen to the sad song of a woman who declares, “I have had my day with kings, drinking mead and wine; now I drink whey-and-water among shriveled old hags.”

This is the voice of the Cailleach, the goddess of the Celtic world who danced through centuries of youth before she sat upon a great stone by the sea to contemplate the painful mysteries of aging. She’s worn out after having done all that work, shaping the mountains with stones from her apron, and playing Sovereignty Goddess and sacred consort to so many kings. Worn out, but still longing for those days when she sat in the center of the light.

This is a deeply human look at the Sacred Hag. She doesn’t always feel like an intimate friend, but at the Winter Solstice, she’s holding up a divine mirror and allowing us all to pause and be with our own laments and our longings. She holds space for us as we mourn what has ebbed away, even as she still holds space for the memories of the “flood” of energy and possibility that used to fill her life.

A creature who has seen so many seasons, the Cailleach reminds us that all of that light, energy, and possibility, of course, will fill our skies once again. And yet, also being the ultimate elder who is reaching the close of her long life, she also reminds us that even the greatest parties eventually end. 

This is a time of great contradiction, when light is so scarce here in the Northern Hemisphere but when holiday abundance (and excess) are even more obvious than the sun in the sky.

We Can Welcome the Light When We Also Make Space for the Lingering Darkness

The wise folk I’m talking to all tend to agree: it’s hard to trust someone who just wants to play the “good vibes only” game and ride their eggnog buzz right into the “best year ever” on January 1. 

There is unfathomable hope, light, and possibility in 2022, but the days are still short, the night is still long, and there’s a staggering amount of uncertainty wrapped in the years to come.

It’s in that spirit of hope for the light and awareness of the darkness that I offer my end-of-year online retreat, A Sovereign Way.

I couldn’t believe in any visioning for the future practice that wasn’t grounded in our both our power and our pain, and I don’t think you could either.

When we gather together to imagine the year to come, we’ll begin by grounding into who we are now and who we have been throughout 2021 and through all the years before. We ask the sparks of “the world as it is” to light the new blaze of “the world as it could be.”

And we’re going to call on the Cailleach, the wise, ever-changing, earth-shaping Cailleach to be our guide.

Would you like to join us?

The half-day event is happening at noon ET on Wednesday, December 29. 

I Sent My Kids to School Today

I sent my kids to school today.

Because there was a terrorist threat on social media, what is (finally) unremarkable, sending the kids to school, became a conscious choice.

My twelve year-old, who isn’t on TikTok and didn’t know that every kid was “supposed” to be afraid to go to school, casually mentioned her fears about atomic war as the bus screeched over the hill at dawn.

She disappeared into the next stage of her heroine's journey before I had a chance to respond. She stepped into a day that, thanks to a terrorist with a smartphone, is not just another day.

My friend, a teacher, texted about how scared her colleagues were to go to work.

She’s at school now and half her class is out today. But that might just mean that there’s another virus going around. And because we live in the age of Corona, that is remarkable in an entirely new way.

My husband, an engineer, was nearly speechless with stress as he tried to recreate plans for machines when global supply shortages mean they can’t get most of the parts they need.

He’s working from home in our dining room and trying to track down simple bits of plastic and metal from China and across the planet, sweating and swearing as he’s constantly forced to redesign components and redesign his days based on an endless chain of uncertainties.

My seven-year old collected bits of quartz from the driveway on the way to her bus.

For once, my mystical, anxiety-prone child didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

And then, my dear ones launched into the day, I walked around the edges of our land where the half-green lawn meets the brambles and the brush, and I held them all in my heart and sent prayers to all the gods I can believe in to keep them safe and sane.

I return here, to the page, and write through all my optimism, all my fear, all my helplessness, and all my devotion to what is mine to do.

Much of my story has already been written. It is not the story of a scientist who takes on a virus that has paralyzed the globe, a political leader who takes on endemic violence that has terrorized our society, a teacher who takes on every social problem while they try to teach kids to read, nor an engineer who keeps building the stuff that builds our economy.

We are all living our own stories that may or not take us to any of these front lines.

I am a writer. I am a holder, a healer, a re-weaver of stories.

I am someone who writes for the scientists, the politicians, the teachers, the engineers, the children, and all the rest of us trying to do good and trying to get by.

I am trying to be brave enough to be an artist rather than a mere wordsmith. I am trying to live into the hardest questions about safety and fear, about sustainability and blind progress, about devotion and what transformation really means. Maybe today, I’ll succeed.

All of my most honest words are a prayer, knotted with worry and and woven with dreams.

The first layer of prayer, “may this just be another Friday.”

And deeper than that, “may we all have the courage to change everything about this violent, inequitable, too-hot-to-handle world.”

Ultimately, the prayer is that we can all live our own stories with bravery, with clarity, and with the support we need to get through, to grow, to thrive.

But first, the prayer that we will all get through this day.

Untethered and (Dis)Connected: How to Return to Your Creative Path On Your Own Time

That crunch.

You know it. I know it. Everyone who has owned a ridiculously fragile electronic device that goes everywhere and is relied upon to do almost everything knows it.

The crunch that you hear when the screen hits the floor.

On Labor Day Monday Monday, I felt that sinking dread when my Apple Watch slipped from my fingers and fell face down on the tile.

For over two years, that little piece of wildly powerful technology has been securely fastened to my body. It’s own tracking data will show you that I would wear it for well over 12 hours per day. And, if you don’t have access to the app, you can see it in the pale strip on my arm where the freckles have faded after years under cover.

Now it’s Thursday, and though I am fully clothed, I feel naked. 

I have no idea how many calories I have burned, whether I got a text in the three minutes since I picked up my phone, or what the temperature is outside. It will take me more than two taps to figure out exactly when my next menstrual cycle begins. If you call me and I don’t have my phone on me, I will not be able to answer you by talking to my wrist like Penny in Inspector Gadget.

I am realizing the depth of my addiction to that tiny glass square. Well, the glass was just the vehicle. My real addiction was to quantifying the success of each day based on my move goals and the illusion of constant connectivity.

At this point, I am not sure if I am uncomfortable because I feel so disconnected or if I’m uncomfortable because I have to reckon with being so addicted to machine that monitored my every move.

Either way, this is not how I planned to land post-Labor Day.

I am untethered. I am lost. I am free.

Of course, I am more than my history of shattered Apple products. It’s also the first week of school. And I am suddenly realizing that after eighteen months of certain uncertainty, the prospect of five days a week of school is immensely challenging.

This return to “normal” is what we’ve been yearning for. Why is this so hard?

Sure, there’s the chance that schools will close or either of the kids could be quarantined for weeks. There’s a chance that Covid could be more than a mere inconvenience as we see infections rise in children. It’s hard to get excited about the new routine when a stray cough could bring the whole fragile arrangement crashing down.

I am so dazed and unfocused. I can’t seem to shake the “I need more tea and then some chocolate and then some pretzels before I answer this next email” state of mind.

It’s more than vicarious first day of school jitters, though. 

Instead, I realize it’s immense pressure that comes with “Psst, Mom! It’s finally quiet. Go be outrageously successful and accomplish every single one of the professional and creative things right now so you don’t fail at post-pandemic reentry!”

Back in the old days (like over the weekend), my watch could help me track when anxiety would set my heart racing. I don’t need the heart rate monitor to tell you that there are too many stress hormones in my system right now. (Oh, hey, maybe I’m already learning to live without that device!)

There are too many stress hormones in our collective emotional system right now. While we have a lot to be stressed about, some of that pressure is self-imposed and truly is optional. Like the pressure everyone puts on themselves during new beginning moments, like the end of summer and the return to school.

So, if you’re a parent and are feeling the press of “I should get my business/creative practice/self care routine up to 117% because the kids are finally back where they belong,” I see you. I feel you.

Regardless of whether we have kids in school or are going to class ourselves, September is a chance for many of us to begin again. We can all use a little more self-compassion right now since it’s far from easy to get back into the post-Labor Day routine.

I’m holding hands with all of the writers, creatives, and entrepreneurs who are staring into the next season wondering how on earth you’re going to find the energy, focus, and confidence to get out there and make the next thing.

Here’s what we’ve learned (since March of 2020 and throughout our lifetime as sovereignty seekers, word witches, and all around weirdos):

• The old rules don’t apply any more.

• The old structures cannot support us.

• The old routine can’t be revived in the same old way.

If the timepiece that used to help us make sense of the world cracks, we need to find a new way to navigate our lives. 

In this early September moment if you can’t quite find your center, find your muse, or find your pen, remember this: your lack of inspiration, motivation, or imagination is not the problem.

What if it’s the relentless press to be productive and commodify every free moment that’s the problem? What if it’s the equation of busyness and self-worth? What if we must finally, once and for all, smash the foolish belief that everything is going to feel “normal” again just because we landed on a certain date or reached some artificial milestone?

What if you didn’t have to start today, but you trusted yourself and believed that in your own time, you’d settle into a new cycle of being, making, doing, and creating?

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When it is time to set off on your own creative path — as a writer, as an entrepreneur, as a seeker looking to understand your own story in a new way — I’d love to help.

The Sovereign Writers’ Knot, the new iteration of my online writing community, opens again on September 27.

The Story Illuminations Sessions are a great 1:1 option if you’re trying to figure out just where to start and need to heal some of the old wounds that hold you back from stepping forth on your creative path.

Something To Look Forward To

I’ve been quiet lately. Well, my mind hasn’t been quiet, but the words that have been swirling within were in the realm of the “not yet speech ripe.”⁣

(Isn't that a delectable phrase? I learned it from a client who is writing a memoir that blends his relationship with the earth, the realm of dreams, the quest for the divine, and the crazy beauty of the human condition. He received this phrase from his mentor Jeremy Taylor, a leading voice in Projective Dream Work.)
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There’s a good chance you know what I mean, right? It’s been almost impossible to find words to wrap around the enormity of our changing world. And yet, there’s an entire world of ideas to express and explore.⁣
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When everyone is occupied at home and I can give myself permission to step away from the screen with all its competing demands, I get in my car and I point it toward this ridge and I remember that the clouds are the same and the sun is the same and this blue is the same perfect blue of any bright May day.⁣
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That's when I remember: we do not love our earth any less for all that she never puts her beauty into words.⁣
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If your heart is full and your pen is still, remember to forgive yourself.

Trust that the urge will come soon and that you do have so very much to say. We’ll wait until you’re ready. We’ll hear you when it’s time to speak.⁣

Perhaps this writing prompt will help you find the words today...

Writing Prompt: Something To Look Forward To

We hear the word “uncertainty” everywhere right now. It’s attached to conversations of health and mortality. You can’t talk about the economy and livelihood without using the word several times.

It’s important to name something else that’s uncertain: how we’ll celebrate all the traditions and holidays that we “always” look forward to.

To move gracefully into this next season of “maybe we’ll see you,” you’re invited to hold all the conflicting feelings. The grief and the disappointment as well as the optimism, the flexibility, the creative energy required to find and make joy in a season that may not include gatherings and vacations.

How will you consciously create “things to look forward to” in the weeks and months to come?

I offered this writing prompt to the Sovereign Writers Circle last week. If you're seeking a wise, compassionate group of creatives and healers who can help you hold space for your own creative healing powers, please consider joining us. We welcome new members on June 1.

Sovereign of Your Own Attention

There’s a well-used (and wonderfully wise) line: you need to live a story before you can tell it.

But then, there are times when you write a story and only start living the full truth of it once you see it on the page.

In my case, it was only once I wrote about being an Overcommitted Queen During Quarantine that I realized the depths of my exhaustion. I’d reached peak over-promising and needed to slowly come down from all those plans, intentions, and commitments.

We’re Being Called to Be More Creative Than Ever Before

Right now, every single activity (with the exception of watching TV, reading a book, or snuggling a cat) requires creativity and innovation.

Whether it’s figuring out how to make grocery shopping feel safe, managing the kids’ morning, or navigating a family’s moods and responses to anxiety, everything about domestic life that used to be second nature requires conscious engagement.

And patience. So. Much. Patience.

That means that the stuff that “should” require creativity and focused attention - like the next writing project - suddenly seems that much harder because your creative well has already been tapped (and probably overdrawn).

Then, when you think about the massive amount of bravery and imagination it takes to think about what your business or private practice is going to look like in the weeks and months to come…

Yep. Utterly and totally exhausted.

And utterly and totally committed to keeping it together and moving forward, somehow.

Sovereign of Your Realm. Sovereign of Your Attention.

In that post from a couple weeks ago I declared, “I become a little bit more Sovereign every time I say no, every time I limit the size of my realm.”

There’s more to Sovereignty (and quarantine sanity) than just saying no to invitations to meetings, however. It’s also about saying no to every website, post, and news headline that threatens to pull from your well of creativity, patience, and attention.

From Chapter 11 of The Sovereignty Knot: A Woman’s Way to Freedom, Power, Love, and Magic:

The quest for Sovereignty on our own terms asks us to craft alternative versions of the oppressive stories we’ve been taught to believe. Recognize the power you have—and often squander— when it comes to holding and focusing your own attention. Allow yourself to see how your attention has been conquered and occupied, either by modern marketers and politicians or by storytellers who speak for so-called tradition and place a singular claim on the truth. Mistress of your own attention, you become Sovereign in your own mind and in your own living story. You then gather the power to change the narrative so we treat all people and animals as they should be treated, here on a planet that truly can sustain all the life that grows upon it right now.

At some level - at many levels - you know all of this, of course. You’ve always been mistress of your own attention and you’ve always had to be conscious and discerning about your information diet.

Let this merely be reminder then - a timely, necessary reminder from one overcommitted queen to another - that you are more creative than you ever have been in your life, even if you don’t write a single word or conceive a single professional offer.

Be kind to yourself.

Be careful with your most intimate, essential resources: creativity, patience, and attention.

And thanks for sharing a bit of your precious attention with me.

Forget World-Changing, We Need World-Renewing

Once upon the time, I used to use phrases like “world-changing” and “change the world” with wild abandon. 

In a 2018 blog post I dared to say: 

Your magic will change you. It will change the world. That is both a promise and a warning.

In every case, you’ll need courage. And probably unicorn memes. And novels that transport you to another world from time to time. And chocolate. And movement that connects you to your body. And probably some more chocolate.

And, in The Sovereignty Knot: A Woman’s Way to Freedom, Power, Love, and Magic, published just two months ago, the chapter called “Crown the Queen” includes this passage:

As you come to believe in your own inherent power and get to know the archetypes that dwell within, you’ll realize that talking to goddesses and focusing energy on changing your own consciousness in order to change the world is more potent than sheer practicality and planning alone ever could be. The magic that lets us manipulate time and space might not quite look like stepping through the standing stones and entering another century like they do in Outlander, but it looks everything like the life I crave. Real life is full of real magic and it’s available to all of us who dare to look for it, treasure it, and conjure it. 

It’s not right to look back at words written in a simpler time and allow yourself to be filled with regret. Instead, I try to look back on these passages with kindness and understanding. (And maybe a little nostalgia.)

Now, we all know so much more about what “world-changing” really means.

We know that reality can change in the blink of an eye because we’ve collectively watched “normal” as we’ve grown to love it (and hate it) vanish in a matter of weeks.

Now, we know that “world-changing” means utter disruption at every level, from school routines to yoga classes, from presidential primary elections to global supply chains. It means massive spikes in unemployment. It means a terrifying increase in domestic violence. It means death.

The World Gives Us Change, We Give It Renewal

I’ll always remember the final time I used the phrase “world-changing” without feeling the crushing weight of such an idea. 

In February, I announced a new online storytelling program, Stand In Your Sovereign Story. The subtitle came out long, but doable enough: Learn how to use the healing power of storytelling to discover your truth, share your authentic message, and build your world-changing business.

Even though there are lots of opinions about whether it’s OK to sell anything in a time like this, I have come to understand that the course is more necessary than ever. (Seeing people sign up even in the midst of this crisis solidified that belief.) 

I’m leading the first session on April 14. The content we cover and the stories we uncover will focus on the work of healing and rebirthing that needs to happen in order to get us through and then thriving on the other side of this pandemic.

We’re going to learn about storytelling, truth, and how to share an authentic message and we’ll talk about how to use all those to build a world-renewing business.

The Story At the Heart of this Offering (and At the Heart of My Belief in Renewal)

This program (and all my work) relies on the story of Sovereignty, and what it takes for women to stand in their full  personal, creative, and spiritual power. My quest is to help all women (and all who identify as women) figure out how to balance and be all three archetypes of Sovereignty.

Free the princess
Crown the Queen
Embrace the Wise Woman

We are called to give ourselves permission to embody the princess, maintaining our innocence, optimism, and sense of adventure. 

We are called to allow ourselves the courage to embody the queen, building our confidence, competence, and compassion. 

We are called to allow ourselves the grace to embody the wise woman, surrendering to stillness, presence, and intuition.

We are called to be princess, queen, and wise woman throughout our lives. We are called to be all three before, during, and after the trauma of the Covid-19 pandemic.

The book offers a path for women to trace this Sovereignty magic in their own lives.

The course is designed to help creative entrepreneurs and transformation professionals use the archetypes to access and use their stories to create connections and build a livelihood.

Learn more about Stand In Your Sovereign Story, the online program that begins on 4/14.

On Being an Overcommitted Queen During Quarantine

On Saturday night, thirty-five readers gathered together for The Sovereignty Knot online book launch. Watch it here!

It was magical. And it feels like it happened last year some time.

Since then, the inner journey has been long and hard. The scenery hasn't changed since then, of course, but things look and feel different inside my mind and heart.

For the past few weeks, I've been pushing myself at just about every level. You've seen those social media posts about how it's not essential to use a pandemic to be remarkably productive? I saw them and kept going, certain that those ideas applied to everyone else but me.

My queen was on overdrive, you see. 

She saw those boxes of books in the hallway.

She thought about the storytelling course that begins April 14.

She thought about all the uncertainty in the world and how she needed to work harder to control what little she could.

Fortunately, I realized that my queen needed a time out before I totally burned out.

This week, I got back to my journal, to books I've longed to read, to being with the kids rather than managing them in between self-imposed deadlines. I cancelled any commitments I didn't have to keep.

I really didn't have a choice. My people (including my family in this house and accessible by Facetime, my friends on text, and my community of clients on Zoom) need me healthy and whole, not ragged and striving.

Getting my queen to share the burden (and the blessings) with my princess and my wise woman is a lifelong process, but I'm getting a little better at it every time I catch myself overpromising and overcommitting.

I become a little bit more Sovereign every time I say no, every time I limit the size of my realm.

During the book launch I promised a new webinar about using the archetypes of Sovereignty to tell your own stories.

Reality check: that's just too much for me right now.

Instead, I’ve called together a collection of resources that just might nurture you overcommitted soul as they have nurtured mine.

Good Read

During the book launch, I took you into the cave featured in chapter 2 of The Sovereignty Knot.

Briefly, I spoke of Mór, also known as the goddess Morrigan, and how she’s been a guide for me, particularly during these crazy time of disruption and fear. I’ve been staying close to her by reading Courtney Weber’s new book, The Morrigan: Celtic Goddess of Magick and Might. There’s nothing particularly “productive” about reading about Celtic deities right now. And that’s exactly what we need in order to get stronger and more connected to what matters - now, and in the new normal that’s waiting on the other side.

Good Listen

Goddess bless our public library systems with their extensive audiobook archives. When yet another spell of middle-of-the-night sleeplessness hits, I’ve been turning to The Magician’s Assistant by Anne Patchett. Written in 1998 and recorded back in the day when everyone listened on CD. There’s some terrible smooth jazz every hour or so and I imagine being a sophomore in college, driving between summer jobs, scratched discs all over the floor of my Ford Taurus.

An Invitation

There’s another reason I need to give my overcommitted queen a rest… there’s something big coming up in just 10 days. I am teaching Stand In Your Sovereign Story, an eight-week program designed to help creative entrepreneurs and transformation professionals tell stories that matter to them and to their marketing.

In some ways, it feels crazy to launch this right now, but it also seems like the perfect timing. If this feels like a time to focus on the stories you really need to tell and how to express them to the world, let's talk.

Initially, I conceived of this class as a way to "use the healing power of storytelling to discover your truth, share your authentic message, and build your world-changing business." Now, I see this course as existing to help us build world-renewing businesses. 

Dear Normal, I Miss You, But I’m Heading on the (S)Hero’s Journey

Last week, I offered the members of the Sovereign Writers Circle this writing prompt:

Write a Letter to “Normal”

As the world seems to change by the hour and things that were totally commonplace just a week ago seem like an impossible, distant dream, we are constantly being asked to adapt to a new normal.

Spend some time considering what “normal” is. What was normal then, what is normal now? What is this thing they call “normal” anyway?

One of our Sovereign Writers shared the most simple and true opening line:

Dear Normal, I miss you…

Amen! Isn’t that something we’re all feeling right now?

We miss “Normal,” but the greatest stories require us to leave Normal behind 

As is so often the way, you only see the real possibilities of your creation after you put it into the world and let people make it their own.

When the members of the SWC talked about various understandings of “normal,” I saw something totally new contained within that prompt of mine.

I saw the start of the Hero’s Journey.

If you’ve spent any time thinking about storytelling, you’ve probably heard about Hero’s Journey. The scholar Joseph Campbell compared ancient myths from around the world and found a common story across a host of cultures that described the individual’s process of “becoming.” This framework has been applied to everything from the creation of epic movie sagas to the development of brands and personal narratives.

As the Hollywood story consultant Christopher Vogler describes it in The Writer’s Journey, the classic Hero’s Journey begins with a Call to Adventure that causes the (s)hero to leave the everyday “normal” work and go on a great and dangerous quest.

The most well-known examples of heroes who trace this journey, of course, are Dorothy leaving Kansas for Oz and Luke leaving Tatooine to take on the Empire. Think of these iconic characters and their worlds we know so well…

“Normal” wasn’t necessarily perfect. Both of them hated their pokey old farms and longed for something more.

They didn’t make the leap just because they yearned for adventure, however. They answered that Call to Adventure only when faced with calamity. Dorothy got swept up in a tornado. Luke’s aunt and uncle were killed by storm troopers. They had no choice but to respond to a moment of great disruption.

At the conclusion of a the story, after many travails, and with the help of many allies, the protagonist returns to where the story began. They’ve changed in some fundamental way and are now armed with the elixir, the great wisdom or solution that will benefit everyone who stayed behind in the Ordinary World.

We are all at the same point in the Hero’s Journey

Before I go on, I want to mention the true heroes in this pandemic.

Hospital employees - from cleaning staff to receptionists to doctors to respiratory therapists - are saving lives and helping people transition. Volunteers are making masks at home and aid workers are delivering food and supplies to people confined without resources. Grocery store staff and delivery workers are keeping life going for all of the healthy, huddled masses. I recognize them and thank them all.

So, when I say “we” are all at the same point in the Hero’s Journey, I mean all of us who might have the time to sit down to write a letter that begins, “Dear Normal, I miss you…”

I am writing this post for those of us who are riding out Covid-19 on the couch, worrying about keeping the kids busy and keeping the business running. I am writing for those of us who haven’t been thrust out of “normal” by great calamity. (Yet.)

It’s my sincerest prayer that everyone who reads this will not encounter a life-changing, journey-defining event during this pandemic. Sadly, I think it’s inevitable that some of us will suffer great loss, but we’re not even at the middle of this crisis yet, and we just don’t know.

No matter what happens in the weeks to come, we are all at that point of beginning a great new adventure because we’re never going to be able to go back to life as it was.

We’ll never look at a supermarket aisle full of toilet paper or a full bottle of hand sanitizer in the same way.

When we’re back on Main Street again and the world is again open for business, we will undoubtedly see empty storefronts because beloved small businesses and restaurants will not be able to come back from.

People we love up close or admire from afar will die. We’ll all understand that life, society, and the economy are much more fragile than we imagined.

The Journey Ahead Will Be Terrible and Beautiful

Like Dorothy and Luke, we don’t have choice about leaving Normal behind.

If you want to be the shero of your own life - to stand Sovereign in your own life - you need to accept this call to step out of the reality that was and into the strange new world. (Metaphorically, of course. We’re not stepping anywhere except on a socially distanced walk in the sunshine.)

The way ahead is full of risk and loss and there’s no guarantee that New Normal will be as comfortable as the old one. It certainly won’t be as innocent.

But that’s how stories work. That’s how life works.

We are living the story right now. None of us knows quite what will happen next. Soon, we will begin to tell the story of how we survived - and even thrived - in 2020.

Can I help you tell your story as we all set out on this Hero’s Journey together?

The next round of Stand In Your Sovereign Story begins on September 30, and I would love to have you with us.

The Tension Between Keeping It Light and Keeping it REAL

I come from a long line of women who firmly believed in “keeping it light” - at least on the outside.

They even had theme songs.

My Nanna would tap her fingers and sing “Bingle, bangle, bungle, we’re so happy in the jungle.” (This one was especially useful when my sister and I were fighting.)

My Mom was a fan of “Don’t Worry Be Happy” and tended to give me her best Bobby McFerrin whenever my teenaged angst hit fever pitch.

Of course, they drove me nuts at the time. I wanted permission to have my rage and my despair.

Both of them are gone now, but I know they would have tried to meet this pandemic with outward optimism. They would have tried to keep everyone cheerful - even if they were anxious as all hell on the inside.

Today, I’m putting the finishing touches on the material I’ll offer up during my virtual book launch on March 28.

I’m thinking of my Mom and Nanna as I plan an event called Sovereignty When the World Is In Knots: Personal Power & Collective Magic In a Time of Uncertainty.

It’s happening on a Saturday night in the midst of one of the toughest periods in living memory. With all the worry and the weight, shouldn’t I focus on keeping things fun and light?

Well yes, and…

And I also need to focus on keeping it REAL.

I want to create an online space for people that acknowledges the desire for some ease in the midst of the stress, but also give everyone a chance to look at what’s underneath. (If there’s one gift I wish I could give to the women who raised me it would be the permission to explore the whole spectrum of feelings.)

This is just one more way to walk the talk and live the book.

The kind of magic I talk about in The Sovereignty Knot isn’t about escaping reality or creating your own reality. Instead, it’s about seeing the world as it is and recognizing that you have the power to respond.

When we gather for some storytelling, meditation, and conversation, there’s going to be room for all the real feelings, from the longing for light to the truth of the shadow.

We’ll find room for big grins and deep sighs as we explore how the archetypes of Sovereignty - the Princess, Queen, and Wise Woman - can help us navigate the inner world and the outer world.

Will you join us? Will you invite your friends to join us for an evening that promises to help you find your way through the light and the shade?

Come as you are, wearing your jammies and sipping your favorite beverage. Don’t worry, Netflix will be there when you get back, but you may find you prefer to curl up with a good book when you’re done.

How to Access Your Inner Sisterhood of Sovereignty

At this moment, we need Sovereignty like we never have before

Set aside all those political connotations you may have for this word. 

Your Sovereignty is your sacred sense of self.

Your Sovereignty is your sense of agency and your ability to exert a healthy measure of control over your thoughts, your actions, and your destiny. Your Sovereignty is your inviolable right to physical, emotional, and spiritual freedom. 

Hmm… is it possible to feel “free” in a time like this, when state after state and country after country goes into lock down?

Yes. My vision of Sovereignty has never had anything to do with that so-called American ideal of “rugged individualism.”

Your Sovereignty is at the root of your commitment to the collective.

In The Sovereignty Knot: A Woman’s Way to Freedom, Power, Love, and Magic I write…

Sovereign isn’t a synonym for solitary. It’s got nothing to do with isolationism. Though Sovereignty does have everything to do with independence, it has just as much to do with interdependence, too. Sovereignty is about relationships. Just remember that personal Sovereignty is an inside job and your relationship with yourself comes first. Always. Everything they say about “put on your oxygen mask first” and “you can’t pour from an empty cup” is true. The Sovereign woman does not lose herself in servitude when she serves others. Neither does she seek to rule in order to amplify her own glory. She does not do this work to get drunk with power. The mark of a true Sovereign is what she does to maintain her own energy even as she pays it forward, passing on her gifts in order to empower others to set out on their own path to Sovereignty. 

And yes, Sovereignty is more important than ever in this moment when one-third of Americans and one-fifth of the global population has been asked (or ordered) to stay home.

By submitting to the “control” of the state, and choosing to limit your own movements, you are embodying Sovereignty in a profound, necessary way.  You are using your power to root into where you are, supporting your community’s physical well-being in the only way you can if you’re not a first responder.

And what about your own well-being during this time of pandemic and isolation? How do you stay sane, strong, and focused in a time like this? How do you connect to those visions and ideals that were so important to you before so much of the world closed down?

(Because even though nothing will ever be the same, your dedication to bring more beauty and healing to this world remains unchanged.)

You commit to your own Sovereignty like you never have before.

You look to the Sisterhood of Sovereignty that always thrives within you.

In my book, The Sovereignty Knot, we “do” Sovereignty by understanding that we have the power to be the three archetypes of Sovereignty - the princess, the queen, and the wise woman. No matter how old you are, or how much you have achieved, you have all three of these forces within you. 

As I developed my ideas, I saw these parts of the self as part of a continuum, like the points of a trinity knot. These energies were present throughout my life and were part of my everyday. I grew to recognize when I was really embodying one energy or another or when I was unable to access the optimism of the princess, the power of the queen, or the peace of the wise woman.

In conversation with readers, especially during my visit to Michal Spiegelman’s Beacons of Change Community, it became clear that women saw the princess, queen, and wise woman as a Sovereignty Sisterhood.

And now, as we’re separated from our real-life sisters and the women who are like sisters who make up our lives - in the office, at the yoga studio, at school pick up - we look to this internal sisterhood to see us through…

The Sovereignty Sisterhood In the Face of Crisis

Three weeks ago when this Coronavirus was an abstract fear, I offered ideas about how to use the archetypes of Sovereignty to stand strong against the waves of fear that were washing against our shores.

Now that we’re in the midst of social distancing (with so much social media to fill in the gaps), we need to see the archetypes of Sovereignty in relationship to this changing landscape - both across our world and inside our own hearts.

The princess is hope. She is innovation.

The princess energy thrives in those who will come up with novel solutions to the shortages of medical equipment or disruptions in the food supply.

You are moving forward with your princess when you find new ways to serve and keep your business afloat in this economic crisis. Call on her to keep making beautiful things and moments despite the gloomy, discombobulated atmosphere.

The queen is leadership. She is managing the crisis.

The queen energy thrives in those who take to the podium and offer humility and useful information, even when so many of the details are still unclear.

You are leading with your queen when you get the supplies your family needs (but no more). Call on her as you you create a daily routine that sustains your household - at the body, heart, mind, and soul level.

The wise woman is calm. She is equilibrium.

The wise woman energy thrives in those who speak truth and offer counsel that rises above the noise.

You are emerging with your wise woman when you pause before you speak, even when you have cabin fever. Call on her as you you prioritize your own inner peace over obsessively listening to the latest news report or chilling statistic.

Let’s Make Sovereignty Real

Join me for a deep dive into the Sovereignty Sisterhood on Saturday, March 28 at 7 PM on Zoom.

This date was supposed to be the night of my first big book event in my hometown, but like everything else, that’s been postponed for the duration. And so, I get to invite the whole world to join me!

I’ll share some stories from the book help you embody your own archetypes of Sovereignty in this tangled time. I’ll be signing books and will ship them right out to you.