PSA to those considering leaning on their inner circle: Do it.


These ladies–my goddess girls who gather to celebrate the equinoxes and solstices–have gotten an earful about me over the years. God bless them.

For the past few months, I’ve been super needy.

My poor friends. (Seriously, Kellie.) With those in my inner circle, instead of the traditional give-and-take of conversations among women, it’s been all about me. For hours at a time. “Can I talk about this? Would you help me process that? Because, oh girl, I’m struggling. I’m going through this and I am trying to make sense of that and I just really need your help with the other thing…”

Need, need, need. Take, take, take. If I counted up the hours my nearest and dearest have listened to me over the past few months we’d total at least a full 24/7 of conversations about me. Me, me, me. Friends, you know who you are.

It doesn’t feel natural for me to be this needy. In most of my relationships, I feel comfier as the question asker, the listener, the fixer, the how-can-we-make-this-better-let’s-put-our-heads-together-and-figure-this-out-we’re-not-leaving-till-everyone-feels-hopeful-again friend. But I just haven’t been in that space lately. I’ve been so consumed in my own stuff that I’ve needed lots of extra love and support lately, and there’s been no option other than for me to just own it.

Unexpectedly, I think it’s been kinda good for me.

I’m not really sure where I’m going with this, but I think I just want to come out and say to all my fellow fixer types out there that owning a little neediness is hella empowering.

In revealing my raw, real self to my inner circle, I’ve experienced a kind of grace I can’t quantify.

For one, inevitably, these friends listen and, what’s more, all my stuff stays safe with them. Beyond that, if you could just see the looks on their faces when I talk, the soft curve of their smiles as they listen, the warmth in their eyes and the gentleness and strength of their arms around me—it’s lush and wonderful. It’s a kind of love that, as the fixer, you so often give but so rarely allow yourself to receive.

It feels miraculous to allow myself to lean on my people, some new, some tried and true, to help me navigate the trickiness that crops up in life. It’s not a practice to which I’m accustomed, this leaning completely into the love of friends, and I recommend it wholeheartedly. If perchance you feel like you don’t have these people in your life at present, call them in. Ask the Universe to bring you people aligned with your highest and greatest good, trust they’ll show up and then receive.

This is all a tad stream-of-consciousness-y, but I guess I just want to encourage anyone out there who’s feeling a little needy right now—and I know you are many, you immaculate fixers, you—to reach out to your inner circle and receive. As the beautiful, imperfectly perfect person you are, you have a little friendship coming to you. Just sayin’.



I’m also sayin’ thank you to all my people. Like this one here. I travel to her baby shower and she ends up showering me with love. Who does that? Linds D, that’s who. (and this is funny because i’m clearly trying to rock the L.A.-girl-hand-on-hip-for-the-camera pose here, but i am laughing bc I obviously have no idea how to do it for real.)

#8 Enoughness Project Series: Because maybe you expected me to post more, too.

Just an informational post to address my not-very-prolific posting about my Enoughness Project experience… And, for those who are unaware, my boilerplate:

This post is part of a series about my experiences in uncovering my own innate enough-ness. For three months, I am abstaining from frivolous material purchases, accepting all blessings that come my way and focusing on gratitude for all that I have. The idea came to me in a meditation-induced haze and it has nothing to do with politics or morality. I’m just a girl who’s hoping to: separate the association between looking good and being good; get comfy with receiving; become a glowingly grateful human being; get acquainted with my own motives for material consumption; grow my understanding of when/why I buy things; and establish new habits that are more aligned with my values. We’ll see how this goes…


Yes, I often take pictures of myself to see if whatever I’ve just put on looks ok for leaving the house. And more so now that I’m not buying new stuff to wear. My poor sister has received many a self portrait paired with the plea, “Be honest. Does this work?”

So you say you haven’t been posting much during this three-month project?

No, I’m not posting as often or as much as I intended. I meant to write a lot more about this. Wait, no. I have been writing. A ton. And I’ve been processing a ton. But I’m just not posting a ton.

Why not?

I’m not ready to post most what I’ve written. A lot of it feels like TMI, as it were.

Ok. What are you reading right now?

A lot of stuff, but I’m checking out Brené Brown’s, Daring Greatly, per the recommendation of two sublime women.

What are you getting from it?

I’m not that far into it, but I’m more aware of vulnerability as a key to living a wholehearted life.

So what’s the deal with you not being vulnerable about your Enoughness Project on your blog?

I didn’t expect this to happen, but not buying stuff is indirectly making me more aware of my shadow side, which is, well, dark. I guess I was previously able to cover it up with shiny new stuff? Uncovering and honoring the shadowy part of me is great and incredibly useful for me in my own life, but maybe not of keen use to all of you.

No, seriously, let’s talk about your dark side.

Thanks, but I don’t much feel like sharing. Uncovering the true source of your own value in the world can be a bitch. So can learning how to be grateful, really grateful, for everything you already have. And don’t even get me started on the bizarrely difficult work of prying my palms open to receive. These three things have sparked some serious inner wildfires, and I’m feeling a little too ravaged to discuss.

Can you offer just a hint of the dark stuff you’ve discovered?

Extreme body consciousness. Suppression. Self-criticism. Envy. Self-doubt. Greed. A touch of trauma. Grief. Anxiety. Lack of compassion. Things I thought I was and have just realized I’m not, and vice versa.

Whoa, girl. You ok?

Never better, actually. I’m delighting in my discoveries, though raw, because it means I’m evolving at the soul level. This isn’t my first rodeo, if a deep dive into my own consciousness counts as a rodeo—and if it does, I’m owed a belt buckle—so I know better than to be alarmed when I get all stirred up inside and some dark gunk gets routed to the surface.

In other words, I’ve come to recognize this kind of intensity and hunker-down-to-process-ness signifies a resplendent spiritual evolution in process. Always. And, on the for real tip, what’s better than knowing there’s a glorious light at the end of the tunnel, and that you’ll get to linger there in some lush garden for a while? (before the next major shift.)

Wow. You must be really fun at parties. 

Yeah. With each cocktail I have, the odds of me cornering you and making you talk about God, Spirit, Enoughness, your dead grandmother, my shadow side and yours goes way up. Fortunately, so do the odds of my buying you a glass of champagne and requesting Snoop from Mr. DJ. So, I like to think it all comes out in the wash.

Will you be writing any more about your Enoughness Project?

No. I’m not sure. Maybe not for a while. But probably. Yeah. We’ll see.

Anything else you’d like to say?

Thanks to anyone who cared enough to read all the way through. My gratitude, and many blessings upon you.

Does this dress work on me, Baby Kip?

Does this dress work on me, Baby Kip?
It’s embarrassing to admit, but when I look in the mirror, my perception is almost always distorted–I don’t ever know what the hell my body actually looks like–and somehow I feel like eying a photo of myself in the mirror removes the film and allows me to see a truer vision of my physical self. That’s what this Enoughness Project is doing for me on the soul level. It’s removing the distorting film from my inner vision and causing me to see myself as I really am, mucky sludge and golden light and all. I just haven’t felt like sharing much about this.