don't hide yourself. just don't.


Don’t hide yourself, sister.


She’s ripped. Lean. Long. Clever. Funny. Her nails are so clean. Adventurous. Rich. Published. Rock star. Mother of 13 and soloprenuer. Her car is clean. Her voice like an angel. Way smart. A total writing genius. She can just go into a backbend. Just like that. Smooth as caramel. She has no cellulite. She says the best things.



Fuck her.


But really what the feeling is: Damn. I wanna be like her. 


I wanna walk in her shoes and not trip on my face and sway my hips like her and have sparkly green eyes and ride her plane around on creative trips to wow people left and right and write her books and be beloved like she is. I want to sound like her. I want to live like that. I want.


I want. To be. Like someone. Other. Than me.


Whoever she is.  She comes in numerous shapes and forms and genders and ages and creative expressions. But she’s always there.  She’s the one that’s more interesting, different and more exotic.  She’s the one that did it first. Or refused to do it at all. She’s the one that does it better.


And when we want to be more like someone else and less like ourselves? What are we doing?  We aren’t being inspired.


We’re hiding.


But what’s even worse than our own pitiful hiding?


We are diminishing her.


The other. The ones we look at with desire instead of equality, the ones we place on pedestals and try replicate their beauty in ourselves instead of allowing them to do their real job of inspiring us, instigating us, guiding us. Instead of them being beacons for us to see ourselves as good as we are- we are attached to becoming as good as them.


We are stealing their flame with our own longing. We are taking what is so stellar about them and what is so magnetic and magical and squashing a bit of it. We diminish the light in others when we get all tripped up and see ourselves as less than and feel the wanting of something more. I am pretty sure that’s how the universe flows.  And I am pretty sure the whole world goes outta whack because of this. Isn’t that fucked up?


And what else happens? The obvious.


We extinguish and suffocate our own brand of blinding cosmic light- all that we truly are- with our dreams of replication, impersonations, imitations.  We forget our real dreams. We lose our real voice. We stifle our birth-rite and unusually unique creatirixes.  We forget that the seed we came from is like no other and was planted in a womb like not other and we start to lie to ourselves, making it seem okay to stay under-cover. To stay hidden. And instead, we say fuck it, and reveal plastic impersonations. When we want someone else’s gorgeous light,  we just kill our own.


It’s easy to imitate in the short term. Quick fix. Quick satisfaction. Quick climax. Quick cash. But hard on the soul. The soul knows too much about itself and it feels betrayed. And eventually there will be so much more work to catch up on when you finally realize that you don’t need to be anyone but you.  That your gifts are a slam-dunk, that your path is honey-flavored and rose scented and nobody else can walk it like you.  All that lost time. It takes a while to catch up.


On the other hand, it’s hard to stop hiding in the short term. But absolute bliss on the soul for the long haul. The soul knows the fear and the panic. It feeds it to grow and expand.  By uncovering it’s purpose, it begins to use that fear to make alchemy, to spasm in orgasmic celebration and it just won’t stop. Ever. And It will literally party all night long to get your wise ways and gem-filled gifts out to the world.


When we stop hiding who we are it means we have to be really vulnerable, of course.  Being vulnerable not only entails sharing the gorgeous and amazing essence that we are- and sharing it as a process- working our way from total asshole to divine guides and back again.  Sharing all the snags and the weaving in and out, riding the spiral, revealing our secrets, allowing ourselves to get stuck and then showing people quite obviously what it looks like to work through this kind of flow.  Work through it as you. Not someone else. As you. Fantastic Diamond. Muddy gunk. Total Whore. Mother Goddess. Materialist Saint in Stilettos.  Fire + Faith Healer. Real deal human with a fingerprint like nobody in the world.


Not hiding means laying it all on the table. Risking that someone will want to imitate you. And it might sound like a compliment, but it’s not really. It’s freaky. Risking people will want to run away from you because you’re too freaky.  Risking some people will want to get too close because they like your kind of freaky.  Risking people will actually grow and a dive inside themselves  and show up in their own lives, which means they will show up for you.  And maybe give you a big thank you. And a kiss and some chocolate cake. We all like chocolate cake.


Coming out of hiding is risking that people will challenge you, will hate you, will try and prove that you are a total fake but they can’t because you are not, you are you. It’s risking that people will fall in love with you, in the most pure kinds of ways, and you will live happily ever after with all the best people in the world as your community. No pedestals. Just a mutual appreciation as being owner of thyself, CEO of extreme uniqueness, publisher of the book of you {not someone else’s liturgy, you hear me?} Then the entire community begins to find their way, their own walk, along side you. Along side each other. Enjoying the view. There are some mad crazy purple mountains out there and some salty sea breezes that make wrinkles go away and rivers that flow like the wild women of endless abundance. It’s really nice to see all this together. Through our own eyes. And translate it totally revealed as Ourself. We become mirrors, reflections, not worshipers. We become light bringers not those who diminish the divine light that each of us holds. So nice I have to say it twice: The divine light that EACH of us HOLDS. EACH AND EVERYONE. OF US. Yes you.




Please. Don’t hide yourself. Not only do you mess everything up for the rest of us.  You totally miss out on who you are. That sucks. You are so much cuter as yourself fully seen. Fully seen. In your own clothes, with your own words to your own songs.  And the world needs you. Oh holy guidess of above and below, the world needs you. Now more than ever.  It needs all of us.


Now. Right now.