Week 2: Let's Be Honest, I Kind of Suck at Slowing Down

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Back in July when this whole move came about I felt deeply in my gut that one of the main reasons I was being called to move to Bodega and live this way of life was to slow down and simplify so that I could really figure out who I am and what I am here for.

Well, almost three months in and I must confess. I kind of suck at the slow down.

On my drive to Encinitas this week I was deep in thought about how something just felt off. I’m not going to sugar coat it. The last two months have been hard. Transitions are never easy and I have no idea why I always think the next one I’ll just glide through it with absolutely no bumps, no questioning, no anything remotely emotional (Said the most emotional person in the world. Insert eye roll here). Now mind you, I don’t just go through small transitions. All mine are like, uproot and change every aspect so I feel totally unstable and ungrounded kind of transitions. And this one was definitely no different.

And I should have known better when I broke my foot and had a sudden relationship ending all within the span of three days a week before I moved that this one was probably going to take the cake. That life, something bigger, was pushing me out of the next. It was time to get really uncomfortable.

While at The Home Depot a week and a half before I left, I dropped a 4 ft by 8 ft sheet of plywood on my left food from about 2-3 feet up and watched it all happen in slow motion as I lost my grip and the wood came crashing down before I could get my food out of the way.

Then, three days later over dinner the guy I was seeing and I ‘accidentally’ broke things off. I’m serious. We were fully intending to continue exploring our relationship from a distance but I now see that that wouldn’t have worked for me. I still look back and think, WTF happened there?

THAT my friends, is a perfect example of how the Universe steps in because you aren’t doing the very thing you know you need to do. I knew he wasn’t right but he was a really amazing guy and there were SO many things about him that did feel right it was easier for me to not listen to that small voice in the back of my mind that was saying, “Nope. This is still not it but it’s close.”

So when I wasn’t icing and elevating my foot and trying to figure out why the hell my relationship ended out of nowhere, I was looking up into the heavens with a smirk saying, “Ok, ok! Jeez la weez! Pipe down up there I’m picking up what you are laying down already.

Let go and surrender.

But sometimes I don’t want to surrender. Sometimes, I really want to control every single aspect of my life until my insides are wound up so much that I explode like one of those creepy Jack In the Box’s because I can’t take the pressure any longer.

So I moved here with a broken foot and a super bruised heart and sat alone in a yurt in the middle of nowhere wondering what the fuck did I just do.

All the while in the back of my head I kept hearing a voice say, “Just slow down Amanda. It’s okay to slow down.”

So I tried. Some of it was unintentional because the emotional force of the transition had me literally paralyzed at times…with a broken foot. Other times I remembered that little voice in the back of my head and intentional tried to discern what slowing down even meant.

To be clear, that little voice in the back of my head is something we all have. It’s called our higher self, our intuition, our inner guidance. It’s the one that told me to move to Encinitas and also told me to buy a saw. It’s the one that told me to look on my ex-husbands computer and ultimately leave my marriage. It’s the one that says, “don’t go down that dark road.” The one that always guides me to my next thing and never leads me astray. And I remembered that about a year and a half ago, it started telling me to slow down and simplify my life.

Except, what I realized on my drive to Encinitas this past week was that I’m not exactly sure I even know what that means for me. And that I am really good at pretending I’m slowing down but in reality, I’m still just busying myself and my mind.

I also think it’s easy to look around and see other’s definitions and take bits and pieces of what they are doing and apply it to our own reality which in part is a way of figuring out what is true for you and I was doing that but something felt off.

Most of the time I think I’m slowing down but I’m really still doing. Like for example, I take Baker on walks and bring my phone and listen to music or a podcast. Sometimes that’s fine but mostly it’s just another distraction. Or I sit on my couch and work on macrame or weaving something on my new handmade loom while watching another episode of Scandal and I convince myself this is the slow down. And maybe for some people it is. But for me, something still fells off.

So on my drive to Encinitas I thought more about this. How the week leading up to this trip I was rushing and caught back in the hustle of getting it all done and I just kept thinking, I don’t like this feeling. I mean, I LOVED most of what I was doing. I was back to creating and just so in the flow but I also felt the old stories of validation from my business start to creep back up. Look at me I’m SO BUSY. I must be worthy now.

And I know very clearly I don’t want that existence. And I’m tempted to say that I know there will be times in life where the hustle is sometimes necessary but is it? Or is that just a deep seeded conditioning by society. Have we just been so programmed to believe that we really need to work hard to play harder? Do we really have to burn the candle at both ends to feel successful?

So today I’m back from my trip down to Encinitas where I was commissioned to make this barn door and I’m recommitted to understanding what the slow down truly means to me. And to understand this, I have to get quiet and really listen.

To be continued.

Week 1: What If We Are Attacked by Zombies? Irrational Thoughts In a Giant Tent

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“Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live.” - Dorothy Thompson

Someone asked me recently if I get scared of living in the middle of nowhere in a giant tent. I paused and thought about this for a moment remembering that sometimes I’d leave my doors unlocked at night in my house in the suburbs of Encinitas yet here, I double and triple check my locks before crawling into bed.

The funny thing is, I know logically I am safer here but the years of binge-watching horror movies have me convinced otherwise. I can’t help but think that where I currently live is the perfect setting for a horror movie.

Overall, I feel pretty safe. Except for the horrific noise I woke up to the other night which resembled what I would consider a cross between a velociraptor and…a zombie. If you don’t know what a velociraptor sounds like, I will kindly point you in the direction of my eight-year-old nephew Henry and he will happily educate you.

I can assume this noise, however, was the proud grunts of some animal consuming something it just caught and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was dining on my beloved cat Louie who never came home that night. (Don’t worry, he came home alive and well)

When I first moved here a girl I know by acquaintance sent me a message on Facebook suggesting I get a gun because “although it’s mostly safe, there are some weirdos!” Not much of a gun person, I brushed off the suggestion with a slight eye roll for what I thought was a bit of an overreaction. Admittedly, I did have a brief thought about how much more efficient it would be to ward off zombies if we were, in fact, ever attacked by them if I had a gun. A gun would come in a lot handier than my already dull kitchen knife. But other people live on the property so, at the very least, I know someone will hear me scream. (just kidding ma. take a deep breath)

But sometimes I do think about Zombies though. Like, what would I do if I looked out the window and saw something that resembled a human but with gaping wounds, a slight limp and an eerie discoloration that resembled the leader of the free world because let's be honest, I’ve questioned if Trump is a zombie too, hobbling my way from the bottom pasture? You think I’m joking but if you see one Walking Dead episode, you start to mentally prepare and pray to God that if it does come true they’d at least be the slow kind. Fast zombies, like in 28 Days Later, and well, we are all F#*ked. The end. Story over.

The short answer though is no, I don’t really get too scared living in my yurt. Other than occasionally, as in, cough cough, every night, double and triple-checking my locks, I feel pretty damn safe. Sometimes I remember that I live in a giant tent and I start to laugh at the realities of my current conditions and how if someone really wanted to get in, it wouldn’t be too terribly hard.

But mostly I feel safe.

But this makes me think about how much we are subconsciously conditioned by things like media and movies and pop culture and how what we allow into our lives greatly affects the reality of our thoughts. And it makes me ask: how much of what we allow into our awareness really does influence our irrationalities?

Like, I know very well that zombies don’t really exist but the idea still scares me. I was a horror movie buff when I was a little kid after all. I have no clue why but I frigging loved scary movies but I can’t help but wonder if that somehow contributed to some of my irrational fears. Hello JAWS. Thanks for making it almost impossible for getting in the ocean water!

But I loved horror movies when I was young. Often my parents left me at my God family’s house and my mom remembers walking into the living room when it came time to pick me up and my three or four-year-old self was standing about two feet from their big-screen TV. Remember those back in the ’80s?. Those big, oversized square things that protruded out into the middle of the living room? These things did not mount from the wall. They sat there, big and intrusive and at Christmas, your mom used the top of the TV to create the perfect little Christmas Village.

So image my younger self, standing two feet away, my big blue eyes wide open and fixated on Jason in Halloween slashing some young, blonde twenty-somethings big perky chest.

I’m not sure what shocked me more, the blood and the act of slashing or the boobs. At that time, both horrified me (and kind of fascinated me) because well, why would one human ever do that to another? As for the boobs, I was mostly confused because mine did not look like that.

Flash forward thirty some odd years later and I can confirm that my boobs do in fact look like those now. But definitely not as perky. Or big. But wait. We aren’t talking about my boobs, are we? If you want to read more about those I suggest you read this post here.

I digress. Oh yeah, irrational thoughts about zombies.

Today, I can’t watch The Walking Dead. I can’t even watch Criminal Minds which was a show I used to love. Something started happening when I started to “wake up” a bit. I found it harder and harder to be around or watch things that pushed violence or a lot of darkness. Stay with me here. Yes, I’m about to go all woo woo on you.

I’ve read this many times. That a spiritual awakening of sorts often brings a deeper sensitivity to energy. That is why it can be an extremely lonely experience. As you raise your personal vibration, your consciousness, things, and people start to fall away as your sensitivity to it begins to heighten.

So as I started to take more inventory on my internal landscape several years ago and pull back some layers, things like shows with zombies biting the jugular of a human neck became harder to watch. Call me crazy but it makes sense.

It is amazing to me how many shows that glorify torturous acts are on TV and how a lot of us watch these shows before going to bed. So much happens on a subconscious level when we sleep, if you wake up with anxiety, may I suggest you take a closer look at what you watch before turning in?

It’s not a cure-all but it definitely has helped me.

However, for the past two months until about two weeks ago, I noticed that my irrational thoughts, anxiety, and worry started to really creep back in. I suspected, and now know that the internal upheaval from the transition of my move created a lot of inner chaos and decided to shine a big spotlight on all my unresolved trauma, limiting beliefs and low self-worth. And there is nothing like sitting all alone in a giant tent in the middle of nowhere with all of that to keep you company.

Now I understand that most people would read this and ask, “Amanda, why would you ever subject yourself to that?”

My answer? Because it’s what I’m being called to do. I don’t know how to explain it but in the pit of my stomach I know that the main purpose of this move is to get me to finally dive deeper into all that unresolved stuff and find some freedom from it.

But first, I have to feel it to heal it.

Because truth be told, all that unresolved trauma, those deep-seated limiting beliefs, and areas of crippling low self-worth are holding me back from living a life on purpose. My true purpose.

If I’ve learned anything over the last year it is that when we don’t truly believe we are worthy of something in the deepest part of our subconscious being, no matter how bad we want said something it will never fully come to be until we truly believe we deserve it. That’s just basic energy 101. But THAT is for another post. In the meantime, if you want to learn more about it read this post from the woman I’ve learned so much on this topic.

So, for the last two months, I’ve really been in it. Even deeper then I have before and in an entirely new way.

I’ve been sifting and assessing and analyzing and trying my very best to rise up into my worth by learning to let things go. Like, let things go in a totally different way. In a way, I’m not even sure how to explain it yet. Old stories and beliefs, people, places, and energies.

But every now and then and irrational thought creeps up and out.

Like, what if we are attacked by zombies?

And I have to wonder what’s worse, zombies? Or all the trauma, most of which asn’’t even mine, that has been lying dormant inside me for all these years…

Weekly Life Musings for One Year

When I felt the call to start my first blog back in 2008, I had no idea why I felt such a strong internal pull to do so. I had so many negative stories about my ability to write well that I was terrified to actually put my thoughts out into the world. But thoughts and ideas and a voice I knew I had. There was something deep inside that was pushing me to start writing.

And then slowly the why became more obvious and still is unfolding.

There are people who love to write and there are writers. Those of us that NEED to write to fulfill a part of our soul’s purpose. That’s me.

I’ve been sporadic with my writing for the past eleven years mainly because the way I write is more of a channeling process. I live my life and when something needs to be shared it floods through me quickly. That is why I can go months without a new post here.

But over the last few weeks, I’ve been thinking about the responsibility of being a writer. I’ve started getting paid to write and would love to continue doing so, more frequently. My fear is this though, how do I do something consistently that only comes out through me when IT’S ready to be shared?

I’ve been thinking about this more and realize that as much as I am a channel, writing is also like a muscle that needs to be worked consistently, regardless if you ‘feel’ like it.

That is why I decided to create a little challenge for myself — to work that muscle and create more habits that get me writing more frequently.

Thus, 52 to Letting Go was born.

So what is 52 to Letting Go?

It’s an experiment of sorts. To get me to A) write more about one of my favorite topics and B) work my writing muscle so it becomes more second nature for me instead of me waiting for the words to come which sometimes can take a really long time.

This idea came to me on my drive up to Seattle last week as I was ruminating over my life and what I think I’m here to do.

Write, create and share.

I realized that I have a lot of excuses and one of them is this whole idea that I can’t write frequently because that’s just not how the words come to me. I thought about what would inspire me to create a better routine with writing and since I’m really into life experiments right now (ie: moving to a yurt to see how I feel about that kind of life) I realized that this was a great way to accomplish a couple of goals with one stone.

But I like the idea of a weekly blog post that shares the ups and downs of this new life of mine, what’s currently going on in my life in general and more on this overarching theme taking place for me — letting go and surrendering.

My ultimate goal though is really just to write more.

And to just stop worrying so much about the things I can not control and be in a more consistent flow of trusting life.

I’ve tried blog series in the past and I always fail to write the second post so a weekly post may be a challenge for me. But this is a challenge I am willing to accept.

I’ve also tried to get on a weekly blog posting schedule but something always comes up. But really, when I get honest with myself, I’m not prioritizing the very thing I love doing most.

So every Monday for the next fifty-two weeks I’ll be posting about the previous week. I’m committed. It’s gonna happen. I have no idea what it’s going to look like, that is part of the letting go piece. As much as I want to create a system and a consistent style of posting, I’m going to go with the flow.

But by this time next year, we shall see. Maybe I’ll have the beginning of a book.

Here is to consistently showing up for myself, setting bigger goals and doing the damn thing.


The Deafening Sounds of Silence: On Being Alone

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“I do not understand the mystery of grace -- only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.”
Anne Lamott

The other night I woke around 2 a.m., sweat dripping down my back and chest, which I speculate is due to fluctuating hormones as the temperature in my yurt is rather cool in the middle of the night.

I woke from a dream. I was surrounded by my childhood friends and their husbands of years and there I stood, completely encircled yet utterly alone. I lay there in the pitch black of night ruminating on the length of time each of them had been with their spouses and comparing my constant singleness with their holy matrimony. Then it came, pangs of envy crept up as the self inflicted judgments I’d been stuffing down with affirmative pleasantries surfaced.

How am I still single? What is so wrong with me that no one ever wants to stay? Why do I keep attracting men who don’t really want me?

Another recent relational “ending” has my childhood abandonment issues fiery hot and the sadness that had been empaling my heart for the last few days finally starting to loosen and bubble to the surface. The old and deeply engrained beliefs flashed in front of my face in the dark of the night.

They all leave. Every one of them always leaves.

This belief, deeply buried in the pits of my subconscious mind, has been on repeat since I was a child and has been the driver in most of my relationship choices. My father, although physically present until my teens when he wasn’t gallivanting around with mistresses or spending his time at the local bar numbing his own emptiness with Bud Light or Vodka, emotionally and mentally never really was. This taught me all I was worth was emotionally disconnected men. Or men who loved other women. Or men who loved other shiny objects more. Or men who liked to energetically steal everything from me until I am frail and weak and lying on the floor as they finally walked away. Or, Or, Or….

At one week shy of thirty-nine, this storyline is getting really old. However, the depths of it’s roots is only now obvious to me.

And it’s accompanied by silence.

Silence, can be mighty painful. But so can sitting in a room full of people.

A conversation I had with my mom right before I moved comes to mind as she shared the worries of my family with me. “Honey, we think it’s great. The only thing we are just a little worried about is how isolated you will be.” I listened as she shared her concerns and thought about the irony of what she was saying. If only she knew just how alone I’ve felt in a room full of all of them.

And I am reminded, combating aloneness, is an inside job.

I’ve been in enough settled relationships to know that the void is full only until it no longer is and the unhappiness and abandonment we are often running from eventually starts to resurface.

At some point I fell back to sleep and woke later feeling a bit better. Another day, I think as Baker slowly inches his way towards me from the foot of the bed. I’ve always been a morning optimistic. A new day means a chance to get it right. My sadness doesn’t creep in until the sun sets and I reflect back on the days failed promises to myself. This is mostly due to overcommitting and thinking I can do more then I can in a day. Something I am working on.

Baker and I both eagerly escape the clutches of the warm comforter and begin our morning routine. I’ll never know who is more excited about the break of a new day, Baker for his breakfast or me for my coffee and a chance to start over.

After Baker’s belly is full and my coffee is pressed, I stand staring out my back french doors at the vastness that is now my backyard.

Sometimes being alone hurts I think and other times it doesn’t. It’s that simple. That’s the ambiguity of life. The conundrum. And often it can fluctuate throughout the day.

The lyrics from a song. The change of the wind bringing a reminiscent smell of longing. A quick wondering of thoughts wondering what they are doing right now. A deep missing of someone long gone.

It can creep in and twist the emotional dial just a bit until your loneliness is present once again.

Sometimes I relish in the silence and other times it’s as if someone is stabbing tiny needles into my skin over and over and I would do just about anything to crawl out of it and not have to be alone with myself for one more minute.

Other times I imagine what the inside of my loneliness looks like. Slices of Swiss cheese. Full of many holes desperate to be filled.

There are times when the idea of having to fill all those holes myself seems daunting when it feels so much easier to stuff them full of insignificant and meaninglessness like I use to. The downside of growth is it’s just so hard to go back when you now know better.

So I don’t stuff and I just sit. I sit knowing it will rise up and out and pass, often, like a painful kidney stone. But pass it will and once it does it’s gone. And that hole, that hole is somehow magically filled. With what I still don’t quite fully understand but I think it’s called God’s Grace and it looks a little something like peace.

Peace and love and grace.

And sometimes things like sugar and spice and all things nice.

And it’s new to me, God’s Grace and peace, but I like it. I like it better then the suffering and the stuffing of meaninglessness.

I like it so I don’t stuff anymore.

Instead, I wait.

For the peace and the love and the grace.

I just wait and stare out my french doors and sip my coffee.

5 Powerful Tools to Getting Unstuck

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I wrote this post out the first time and then read it over and thought, “Amanda, this is not you. You are not using your true voice. You are writing to please others.” Which is ironic as you’ll read. So I hit erase and started over. When I finished I thought, there she is. There’s Amanda.


Who would believe what I have to say?

Who even wants to hear what I have to say anyway?

I suck. I’m not creative.

I don’t have a creative bone in my body.

I could NEVER do that! They can but not me.

The stuff I write, it’s shit!

I’m such an asshole.

This is all too hard. Why is everything so hard?

Work hard, play hard., that’s the only way. So why does it feel so wrong to me?

Hustle, hustle hustle. It’s the only way to be successful. I just can’t anymore.

I hear these things all the time. They are unconsciously swirling around everywhere affecting our energy, our drive, our dreams, our gut feelings, our motivation.

In fact, I’ve said these things (and more) over and over to myself. I still battle this tape recorder. It has been hardwired in us, one that’s hard to erase. Although I work on it daily, these thoughts circle deep in the back of my mind.

I’ve learned that nothing kills your creative life force quicker then the voice(s) in your head. This voice however, isn’t really ours. It’s the stories we’ve picked from the time we were born. These are called formative years for a reason. This is when we pick up our beliefs and values, how we learn to set boundaries or in my case, none at all. It’s when our parents and siblings and educational system and peers all influence us the deepest.

I know it’s easy to think they are our own thoughts because we are the ones thinking them day in and day out, but how often do you stopped and question, “Is this even what I believe? Are these thoughts even mine?” Or are you on autopilot just living out the life you’ve been told you should be living?

About six months ago I had a series of mental breakdowns that shook me to my core and made me realize that I had to make a choice: stay the same and not address what was happening within me and turn into someone I really despised or acknowledge that I really needed to make some changes and I needed help for my health, wellbeing and overall sanity.

Honestly, I felt like I was living a lie. So many parts of my life still didn’t feel true to my core. I was not accepting the truth of what I am here to do in this lifetime. Needless to say, I was left untangling a messy web of thoughts and ideals and beliefs, trying to decipher which ones were actually mine and what were stories I picked up a long the way.

Do this — get love.

Be this — acceptance.

Stay small, don’t speak up — fit in.

Wear this — please others.

Work 9 to 5 — security

I couldn’t see straight. Literally. I would lie in bed hyperventilating to the point nothing made sense and my vision would go blurry and I knew enough from watching a mentally ill father growing up, living a lie involves serious repercussions.

This one particular morning I sent me therapist (more of a spiritual advisor) a text:

“It’s time to go deeper.”

I knew that all this conditioning and past traumas were preventing me from living what I believed to be my truth and the anxiety and panic I was feeling from deep within were messengers that it was time to get radically honest with myself, my past and the way I processed the traumatic events in my life. I needed to take responsibility for my choices, my decisions and stop blaming others. I needed to accept that my parents did the best that they could with what they themselves had, really learn to forgive and relearn how to not care about what others think.

“Fuck.” I thought. “I don’t want to do this.” But it was time to roll up my sleeves and really get to work. And that, was terrifying.

We are so afraid of our pain, aren’t we? Most of us are so full of guilt and shame and every other emotions related to these it seems. Or, we spend our time chasing this illusion of happiness and we desperately run from those things that cause or have caused us pain.

But I’m here to tell you, right under the pain is the good stuff?

It’s called…TRUTH.

Right under the lies are our longings and dreams and aspirations. The things our heart and soul knows we are here to do.

The pain and guilt and shame — they hold the answers. Wake up, don’t go back to sleep.

“The breezes at dawn have secrets to tell you
Don't go back to sleep!
You must ask for what you really want.
Don't go back to sleep!
People are going back and forth 
across the doorsill where the two worlds touch,
The door is round and open
Don't go back to sleep!”

- Rumi

I didn’t go back to sleep. Instead, I dug in.

Going back and addressing traumatic events and memories isn’t fun. I’m never going to tell you it is. It actually sucks balls if I’m honest. But you know what sucks balls even more?

Living a lie.

I don’t care how old you are, if you want to find freedom from your suffering, if you want to live a life of truth and honesty and authenticity, you have to actually dig into the pain and the lies. Because no matter how many times you look in the mirror and speak affirmations, if you don’t believe it on a deep subconscious level, those lies are the storylines that will continue to play out from deep within.

If you ever wonder why the same thing keeps happening to you…there you go.

The affirmations are wonderful. They feel good after you get over the initial discomfort of feeling like you are piling more lies on top of the lies you already live with. But if you follow me on Instagram you may remember the analogy I talked of scooping ice-cream on top of shit. You can keep piling ice cream on top of your shit, but eventually you will bite into the shit again.

Or you can get in, get the shit out of there so you can eventually just enjoy the ice cream without worrying if and when you may bite into shit again.

And the shit, is exactly what keeps us stuck.

Now who’s hungry for some ice cream?

5 Powerful Tools to Getting Unstuck

1. Slow Down & Create Space

Nobody likes to hear this but slowing down and getting intentional with your time really is the hidden secret. We love to distract ourselves. And by we I really mean WE. I right there with you. My numbing and distraction go-to’s are: social media, aimlessly wandering around my house, podcasts, used to be dating apps and sometimes it was sex (when I was dating someone) and occasionally drinking. But in the last 6 months I got still. I got really uncomfortable. And I just listened to what was trying to come up. You know what it was? Anger. And then shame. Then sadness and hurt. And it sucked but it provided a lot of clues and answers and when I started doing more work around these things, peace.

That is when number two came in to play.

2. To Be Magnetic

I first turned to To Be Magnetic because if I’m honest, it was a manifestation process and I was really just looking for a quick way to get what I want without having to work for it. I thought sweet! Another tool to help me magically manifest all my hopes and desires.

Then I realized this program is a bit different then all the other manifestation teachings. This one involves a lot of honest and actually showing up and doing the (your) work. So I got super resistant to it until the last mental breakdown and I realized I couldn’t keep doing things the same way and expect different results.

It all comes down to self-worth and if you are vibrating (from DEEP WITHIN) high or low self-worth. So this is why when we just do affirmations they don’t really work all that well. They are, for many people, ice cream covering up shit.

Law of Attraction and The Secret are great but as Lacy, the creator says, unless you get in to the subconscious that holds all the stories and lies and trauma and blocks, you wont ever believe you are worthy of the things you truly want.

I can’t speak more highly of Lacy and To be Magnetic. I’ll write a whole post on what has transpired in my life so far soon.

If you are interested in really doing the work to live a life that feels totally in alignment and manifest the things you truly want, you can get $20 OFF when you use the promo code AMANDA.

The Pathway, which gives you access to ALL of her programs, is only $25 a month. It’s literally 5 coffees out. I didn’t want to spend the money either but this has literally saved my sanity in so many ways.

3. Present Over Perfect

I have a thing for books and I really have a thing for books that involve raw honesty. This book, I think, needs to be read by everybody that struggles with feeling like they are enough (hello almost everyone). Those who have questioned what the hustle is really about and wondered if there is a more simple way of living and reaping the rewards of true happiness.

This book literally fell in my lap after consciously choosing to slow my life down for mental health reasons over the last six months.

It gave me permission to be human and to not get caught up in the do more to be more mentality. It gave me hope and it gave me a sense of feeling less alone.

Read it, I promise it will make you breathe out all the air you’ve been holding onto because you’ve been so busy for so long you forgot to read.

4. The Qapital App

I’m going to be totally transparent here. Money has been one of the biggest sources of my pain and shame over the last ten years. In my twenties I was really “responsible.” I had a great savings, little to no debt and I was setting myself up for success. And it felt really good.

Then just after my twenty-ninth birthday I moved to Taiwan on a whim and went through my savings rather quickly. Fuck it. I almost died I thought. I just want to live. And that has been the story I’ve been living out this whole time. (PS - totally working on this storyline in Opulence, one of The Pathway programs). And it’s preventing me from really stepping into a side of me I need to feel secure — financial free.

So how does this money managing app help?

I came across Qapital and saving and investing became fun for me. It’s actually making me look at money in a whole new light. I also love that it’s kind of a ‘set it and forget it’ thing. And while I’m not making as much money as I’d like to right now by any means, this gives me the feeling of doing something to set myself up for the future.

You can set up different goals and apply different rules to each. For the last six months, I’ve been watching my savings grow as money is withdrawn from my banking account and put into each goal.

These are what my goals look like:

Taxes (independent contractor here)
Downpayment (House)
In Case of An Emergency Fund
40th Birthday to Italy (whoop whoop, Sept. 6th 2020!)
Investments (so confusing to me)

When you sign up and when you refer someone else, you both get anywhere before $5-$25 depending on their promotion. Honestly, it’s turned savings into a fun game.

5. Human Design

If you’ve been in my company within the last few months Human Design has definitely come up. I don’t even know how to do describing it justice to be honest but basically, it’s the contract your soul made about who you came here to be, our unique gifts to live out and the karma you are to experience.

In laymen terms; straight up permission to be exactly who you are. When I first started learning about my desgin (4/6 Generator with an Emotional Authority, Right Cross of Consciousness (3)) it was like EVERYTHING I ever felt intuitively about myself made sense. I used to be so hard on myself about this weird need I had to share things with the hope of inspiring others. But it’s literally my purpose.

This energy is the ability to seize power through the use of your mental prowess. You are here to transform your mental pressure to figure things out and communicate effectively to others, turning them into followers. Not everyone can push forward ideas to lead, but you have the energetic design to do so.

This stuff blows my mind wide open and if you feel called to learn more, my friend Ilona read my chart to me and she’s incredible. You can reach out to her or myself if you have questions. (I chat a bit about it but she’s got it nailed down!)

Full transparency, if you click on an affiliate link and choose to purchase I will get a small commission but it’s really important to know that I will never under any circumstance promote anything I do not use myself or truly believe in.