The other day I was sitting in a public place, and the noise and hubbub became almost unbearable.  I was struggling with a relationship that was dive bombing and felt already 98% bruise. Every shriek, every laugh, just hurt.

Then, and I’m not sure where I got the inspiration to ask the question, but thank all the gods it did because it’s stayed with me and changed how I hear the whole world, but it occurred to me to ask, “but what am I really hearing?”

And then I really listened.

And the couple loudly discussing the details of their relationship, I closed my eyes and heard, deep in the tenor of their voices, in the rapt attention with each other, with the universe of care they were giving this moment and each other, I heard only “tenderness, fathoms deep.”

And the teenage girls racing out of the water and screaming their fool heads off, I heard, “a raw celebration of vitality, no filter.”

And the young child desperate for his mother’s attention, voice rising like an angry tidal wave, I heard, “the quest for understand and clarity.  A hero’s quest, he’s a tiny hero stepping onto his path.”

In this new way of listening, something was conspicuously absent: my lazy, knee-jerk and negative interpretation. Without those judgements clouding my filter, I had access to the beautiful music that is present in all things at all times.  I can’t remember feeling this free.



This is where I compare my two Great New Loves (starting a play church & riding a hog) mostly because I want to.  Also, I find that when I find ways to celebrate deeply and freshly and with abandon, I woo the poetry to come home in my play. 


I’m out on my first real solo long ride on my hog and I meet my first motorcycle shaman, Carol.  I feel a little shy and wanting to explain myself for how I still wobble when I am taking off, and the big gooey burn on my calf from my first cavalier ride in leggings.  Being out on a motorcycle like this brings up a whole array of feelings, and when I dreamed of doing this, I never saw the vulnerability, the insecurity, the “don’t see me” coming.  There is literally nothing between me and the whole damn world.  I’m always visible, no ducking under.  

My mind knows that my big dreams are actually pulling me through stuck, dense, less true places and ways of being in me.  But the reality of all that growing, all that letting go, all that biggening is less idyllic and can feel a tad raw.

I meet Carol at my first gas up. He’s ninety if he’s a day, and he’s buying black coffee for a quarter.  While waiting in line at a tiny gas station just before the Blue Ridge Parkway, we fall into easy chatting. He looks at my helmet in my arms and I tell him I’m taking my first long ride, we both peer out the window and my creatively packed bike.



He tells me his wife could pack a bike better than Santa’s elves could pack a sack.  “I’d be just about to take off, and she’d come a runnin’ with her helmet, yelling, ‘where we goin’?  Every time. That woman was a delightful surprise to me every day she drew breath. ’”

I’m freshly enough in love that I take this as a personal message from the Heart of Love, and Carol and I meet each other’s eyes for a moment.  His, watery blue, and molded by storm, meet mine, slate blue and often still at war with the storm.  I feel calmer, just being near him.

He breaks the silence, “you know, little missy, there’s no owner’s manual here.”

I look around at my body, at the newly acquired helmet, at my adventure bag, sort of warily attached to this hog.  I look down at my leg, still seething with pain and probably infected. I spy the Joseph Campbell book about stepping into your own hero’s journey.

Hero’s never know what’s around the bend. That’s not even a real consideration. They become the hero of their own journey when they find how to take the next true step.  There’s no owner’s manual here.  My shoulders go down a little, I take a breath.

The manual for this precise existence hasn’t yet been written.  You can’t learn to ride a bike by reading about it, you just gotta get on it and strike a deal with the wind demons and hope you can keep up your part of the bargain.  

“Both are terrifyingly impossible if you think too much about it, & strangely doable if you just go for it.”


“If you can get on the hog or church at all and have even one good ride, you’ll never be the same.  Kind of like how Jung says that “The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.”  The person you meet when you start to enter either of these experiences, is a person you’ve been waiting to meet, is the next version of you, the one that wants less walls and more sun, less excuses and more yesses.”

Part Two

It’s my 17th Play Church and I’m sitting on a flat rock in a river, surrounded by people on rugs and blankets, with their eyes closed.  Their faces are calm, and open.  They look like beautiful human river flowers.  I feel so honored to have people show up for Play Church, over and over, this weird, intuitive, wildly expansive thing.  

I’m not exactly sure what’s going to happen next, which is weird and fun because I am the pastor.  My mind doesn’t know the next part because that particular information is coming through a different receiving portal.  There’s a very deep part of me that absolutely knows what’s next, can feel it in my soul’s bones, but I lose access that that part of myself in the hub bub, and can go off on a tangent that has very little clarity or real fun.

The practice of steadily offering a Play Church asks me to make room for a steadier conversation with both clarity and real fun.

“Both require massive amounts of The Force. Jedi’s only need apply.”

I think back to Carol’s wisdom about there not being owner’s manuals for stuff that puts you on your personal leading edge.

Offering a weekly play church qualifies as my edge by miles.  It challenges the part of me that can get really comfy with impulsive leaps and has a harder time with steadiness.  It also challenges me to stay up to date with the inner pastor, the part of me that steadily remembers the path to the well, and is willing to stay happy and nourished enough to help others remember how to have fun drinking deeply and steadily.  I’m guessing you’ve got something that feels similar to this. It might make you a little queasy or shameface when you think of it.  Perhaps you haven’t had a chance to consider how fun it is to take a step towards  and not away from your true hero’s journey?

Perhaps you might wanna take a moment to consider the relief of seeing this new challenge in that light?

Perhaps you wanna take one beautiful new breath?

Now go take that next, close in step.  And I dare ya to have a little fun with it.





In a recent radio interview I found myself reveling in the way of the playful parent, quite accidentally. I thought it was a show about parenting!

If you’re wondering about unschooling and how to really show up for, and play more deeply and authentically with your dance with your child, have a listen here.

All my love,


know it



To begin …

Start to listen, now.  What is extraordinary appears in the spaces of deeper and more exquisite listening. The day will carry you to new inner and outer vistas.  You can prepare by turning up your willingness and carving out some quiet space for just laying on the floor, or slowly thawing spring earth, and, just, listen.


Notice any deeper askings that might be knocking on your heart. You don’t need to do anything, just notice. The day is a little of a hot air balloon and will carry you up where clarity lives.  But for now, you might want to tune your inner ears to that precious and next level knocking.


Give some love to the part of your that might feel nervous, resistant or skittery about engaging something brand new.  What tools do you have for clearing a resistant frequency?  Grid, tap, gratitude the heck out of it?  What are ten things about it that feel bright and zooming?  I find that doing gratitude for an experience will return me to the heart of the original urge and keep me at a level where I can accept the gifts of it with delight and true fun.


Ask your higher self to pave the way for the most delicious and productive and shiver fish yespleasemore experience ever.  Then just hold that tone and let the Universe blow you away with deep abiding joy and clarity.


To bring …


Adventure bag.  Things that want to go in there.  Trust your intuition about this.  If your heart says bring slinky dress, bring the damn thing.


Slinky dress.  Just kidding. I mean, more clothes than just the one pair.  You want in and out shoes. Versatile clothing and a jacket that’ll do it’s work.  What else?  Smell into the heart of adventure, trust what you hear. Pack accordingly.


Always, your joyful willingness, curiosity and unquenchable yes.

In great joy,

Cap’n Nat

For those of you who’ve sent your owls to me to confirm your spot, you’ll receive your mission details for meet up location on the evening of the 22nd.  Be ready to be ready.

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Late one night,  in a cabin way in the Northern Kingdom my young daughter woke screaming. Her arm was nearly black. And she was in the most extraordinary pain. As I touched her black throbbing arm, I almost passed out.  We soon found the culprit, an elastic that had worked its way up her arm.

But to this day I LOVE HOW SHE FREAKED THE FUCK OUT. No part of her was unclear that no circulation is not ok.

I’ve seen a recent trend in clients ( and, of course, in myself )  where a chronic vibration of anxiety creates this tourniquet of static, cutting off the flow of life to that area.

Wanna know if you have an anxiety tourniquet on an area of your life?  Check it:

  • do you feel like a nervous poop when you think about it?  
  • Is life moving weirdly and unsatisfyingly there?

Then you probably do. And….

I want you to stop being so fucking calm about it.  Chronic anxiety is not okay, not helpful and you don’t have to endure it anymore.

Anxiety is you using your focus to activate realities you don’t want and feeling powerless in the whole deal.  It literally cuts you off from all your intuitive urges, and the guidance that’s always coming through and so, in that area, you likely feel like a bit of a dunce and a lifelong sloth because you ain’t got no mojo flowing.

It’s nice to realize that removing that tourniquet of anxiety will release life force to flood that area again. And you’ll get to meet your fully funded, awake and playing like a boss self in this area.  You’ll get to crush out on Renewed and Sexypants You again.


It’s spring, and the sap is rising. Let it rise, darlings, let it rise.


nat joy o clock saves me

from a client this morning

Here’s how I play with and thru anxiety:


I went through a whole ninja training period where my sole aim was to get better at relaxing.  

I slowed way down, and really started to pay attention to what works for me. Hot long baths actually make me angry.  Laying all day on tropical beaches are something I would pay to avoid.  Rock hopping really hard, fast and bright into the surf, on the other hand, cleans me to my wind parts.  

Listen, really tune in.  And make room for a realer relationship with your own calm abiding self.

I collect tools, shamelessly, just like I’m not shy about snatching a beautiful shell or rock from the shore.  I harbor no romantic attachments to having happiness be easy or inevitable. It’s a craft and something that takes dedication and no small measure of wizardry.  

I greet new tools like the new best friends they are and incorporate them into my toolkit.  I make sure I have some uptodate tools for anxiety. Right now EFT, on the go nidra breathwork, and shifting my focus are really close friends to me.

I get ahead of the momentum. Joy o clock is a simple practice of getting up a little earlier than your life does and turning all of your gorgeous human attention, for a small period of time, on your joy, where she is, and how you can be closer and more steadily in love with each other.

It’s like a sexy date with your forever love Joy.  In that,  you inevitably discover those thoughts and worries that are creating that anxious static tourniquet that prevents all the joyful impulses from getting through to you.  And you deal with them, right there, and get a jump on them before they get a jump on you! Leverage that contrast yo!  Don’t let it leverage you.  As Abraham says, it’s easier to just step out of the way of the Mack truck that’s about to fall on you, then to try to clean up the mess if you don’t.

Happy chilling the eff out friends,

love, Natalie

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so handsome

A few years ago, my then mayor boyfriend and I we were having one of our pet conversations: the one where I say “I’m so not political” and he says, “you are the MOST really political person I know.” And on and on.  Honestly, it was more about the sexy tension then anything else, but now, I think he’s a teeny bit right.

He saw my choice to devote my life to helping people to be more conscious and authentic about their existence to be a radical act against any kind of tyranny.

I do help people fight tyranny but the inner kind, and yeah, that absolutely changes their life circumstances and, technically evinces tyranny because they are no longer a match for it, on any level, but I’m still a tad uncomfortable thinking of myself as political.  It’s such a sloppy game with poor, inelegant odds.

And then I kind of sort of fell in love. With this not fancy, straight shooting older fella, Mr. Bernie Sanders.  And in order to make room for that crush, I had to acknowledge how thirsty I’d been to have some freaking hope again.  The possibilities he evokes in me have been too long dormant.  In this new spring love, it’s safe to notice just how jaded and quietly disappointed I’ve let myself become about politics and government.  If I felt this way about one of my children or anything in my life, I would immediately shift my energy around it, yet I’ve let this quiet seething continue for years.

No more.

so handsome

so handsome

I think that the vast majority of people are actively vibrating at anything from disappointment to rage concerning the political system.  And yet we sit around and sling blame arrows at the Establishment and never consider how we are truly cocreating this reality. Everything is vibration. Drawing in a perfect parking spot, a free meal, a new lover or WINNING AN ELECTION are all vibrations.  


bernie triumph

Which brings me to my second point about my new love, I want a richer conversation with Bernie and politics in general. The emails I get from Bernie are about fundraising, and I forgive him because we’re so in love, but, I’m a wizard. I know that winning an election isn’t only or mostly about money.  It’s about vibration.

And ours is rising.

I see Bernie as a candidate who represents an upleveling in our collective consciousness.  And that’s a fucking celebration folks.  For you, for me, for all of us. But let’s keep going.  You don’t just have your vote or your money to contribute, you have your hope, your clarity and your willingness to truly believe in a better government.

So, soul Wizards, whatchyou got?  Are you spending lots of time worrying about or being angry about Trump?  Are you harboring a lifetimes of discontents and quiet anger about the establishment? Do you have old stories about government and the larger ways we organize as a species?

Will you do the world and your life and future a favor, and clear your heart?  Will you dare to use your human energy to dream us forward as a culture, as a universal tribe? And for the love of hotpants everywhere, will you find your gratitude for what’s going well, what’s possible and what’s beautiful because we are heading towards the conversations we’re willing to fully have.

rolling stone bernie

Shall we collectively celebrate the fact that this beautiful clear beans human has got so far? We’re moving, as a people, our larger tribe is moving towards more truth, more love and more deep and resplendent recognition of our essential humanity.  How do you personally show up?  For me I have a monthly donation and actively dreaming about an America I’m in love with.  Also I kind of write Bernie love notes.  A lot.  Thank you soul darlings.


Let’s magic the shit out of this

Love, Natalie


There’s a lot of hubbub out there on the waves about following your highest yes.  As I am a huge fan of both hubbub and waves, let’s DO THIS.


Bashar, the alien, says that the key to a happy life is to follow your highest excitement, period.  And while I trust the advice of aliens absolutely (when is the last time an alien steered you wrong?) it’s not that practically useful.

What the hooties does that mean or really look like?  In a life, so full of demands, inquiries, habits, responsibilities, not to mention ruts, grooves, and cycles, or all those people we’ve COMMITTED OUR LIVES TO, how do you find room to really follow your highest excitement?

And not just follow, but converse with, show up for, and maybe even dance a little nekkid with, all without dumping the apple cart of your beautiful life, on it’s little apple cart head?

If you were to look at your now life and tried to brain-scheme how to carve out some room for your real yes to thrive, you’d likely just lower your head in a quiet hopelessness.  Perhaps you’d start to slowly slam your skull against the desk, maybe you’d establish a little quiet rhythm, who knows? The point being, and Einstein fully agrees with me here, “The mind that creates the problem cannot create the solution.” You gotta heart ping your way there.

And by heart ping, I very much mean freckle friend your way there. Here’s the story from a Player’s Way participant, from her perspective,

“I remember in my twenties I was so free.  I had a ninja boyfriend and would sneak in through his roof gazebo and attack him in his bed.  I traded seashells for coffee on my way to work.  I’d take myself out for knitting and beer dates, alone at a bar, and feel so satisfied and easily perfect in myself, whatever I was or wasn’t doing.

One day I was taking a shower and realized I had a new freckle on my arm. I used to have 8 freckles, and I also had 8 friends at the time.  When I saw that new freckle, I knew instantly that I had a new friend, and that I had to meet them as soon as possible.  I leapt out of the shower, got dressed and jumped out the door and dashed down the street.  I started looking everywhere, thinking “is it you?  Is it you?”  

I didn’t even know what I was really looking for, I just knew I had to do this. Suddenly I realized I needed to go into this convenience store/bar.  I walked all around, looking, but found no one, no buzz. So I left, but walking away felt wrong, and even though I felt sure that none of the people I’d seen were it, I went back in.  As soon as I entered the door a man emerged from the back and our eyes locked.  We walked towards each other.  He seemed like he wanted to say something, I opened my mouth to speak, totally clueless about what I would say, then he said in a rush, “I have the strangest feeling that I have to tell you something but I have no idea what it is.”

Then we just started running. He reached out and grabbed my hand so we could run better together.  We were so alive. It sounds like something out of a movie when I say it.  We found our way to a park and spent all day talking and making art out of the things we found on the ground and in the trees and stones.”  

That friend went on to become an important player in the development of her artistic career, and hosted her first opening.  There was something unique and ineffable about their connection that she could simply never have thought her way to.  She had to freckle friend her way to him.


When we hear something on the earlier ping, it’s delicate, fresh and pure, like a raindrop before it’s traveled through a polluted atmosphere and dog pee snow to get to you.  I’m not saying that your cluttered mind is dog pee snow, I’m implying it is but not actually saying it.  The POINT is, it’s real super nice to encounter that drop in its purest form, because it’s full of the original power (and not dog pee).   

If we learn how to listen and respond to those cues at that delicate, intuitive, deeply connected, deeply listening level, our whole conversation with life becomes more authentic, stronger, more flexible and the life that blooms out of that conversation reflects that authenticity, strength and verve.

When you don’t hear the pinging in the early, outer heart brain, intuitive magic listening range, it’s a little like you’re talking to someone else while you’re driving, and your GPS is sending these very fine-tuned cues, but you’re focused on the other conversation and miss the cues to turn, which, at first, are coming quickly, as the GPS quickly reroutes its suggested route to accommodate your now position, but after a time, as you continue to not listen, you get farther and farther away and the clues are less bright and further apart, all the while, the number indicating how far away you are from your destination continues to grow.

When you begin to make some durn space and willingness to clearly hear the wisdom of your highest self, turn here, now turn, here, now! The actually shape and quality of your life begins to reflect the very timely, and very unique-to-you wisdom of your highest self, lighting up the path.

You turn when it’s time to turn, you speed up when it’s time for entering the pure whoosh, and slow down when it’s time for slownness, for care, for integration and deepening.  Your life begins to look like Your life, which is the deepest creative gift we have to give.

Now onto the How To Bits…

the only real valuable thing is intuition


stay long listening at the listening well

Are you REALLY okay with this ________?  Is it a ten? Is it ever gonna be? Are you fake yessing cuz you’re unwilling to make real room for all of you to bloom up into the wild tundra of your gorgeous life?  Try this simple thing, it works for all everythings: (really) listen, and adjust accordingly. Almost nothing kills intuitive living more than pretending you’re okay off your path. Except shame.

Shame definitely is worserer.


buy dem shameproof jammies

If humans can design tents and jammies that don’t burn, we can design lives that don’t indulge in the profound confusion of feeling shameful about who we are.

Important note: if you’re doing something you feel is wrong, and you feel bad about it, good, that’s an informative clue for you to cut that shit out. Don’t do anything that makes you feel shame.  High roads and all of that.

Beyond that, shame, as a response, spreads like briars and soon you’re more familiar with how to be ashamed, than how to enjoy and nourish real growth.

If you don’t have a shameproofing tool in your adventure bag, get one.  EFT, the Work and rampages of appreciation for self are nice places to begin a new conversation.


be willing to be wildly, astronomically misunderstood

When following intuitive urges, sometimes shit don’t make no sense no how. You’re hunkering into some primordial ooze, following the funhouse pathways of least resistance and dancing with the Cosmic Harmonies.  The mind can’t keep up, yours or theirs. Get okay with it.  Breathe into the calm abiding wisdom of your heart … over and over and over again.


keep your soul eyeballs out for freckle friends, everywhere, in everything

What if connection is a thousand times easier, more fun and more meaningful than we ever imagined?  What if ease and curiosity and self tenderness were all that was missing from profound shared joy?

O!  The primal beauty of a brand new possibility. Smile into the possibility of renewed ease and delight infiltrating all your relationships.


get photosynthetic

Lean towards joyous, light experiences like a kitchen plant that’s plastered it’s face leaves flat to the window to souse itself in every freaking drop of light the sun has to offer.

Lean with all your weight into joy and you’re well on your way to being whiskable.


become whiskable

At the heart of every dream is an essence, a distilled emotion or experience we are being called to for all the reasons we are.  When we say “the Universe has a better imagination than me” we’re just acknowledging how prettily we are by the lives we live, and also, beautifully limited.  But Source Energy is beautifully not contained, and beautifully without limits and that lends itself to some serious perspective on how best things might shake down.

So, get a little easy about how stuff shows up.  I like to aim in the direction of what is bright and stay flexy, listening and tuned in as I get closer, course correcting as I go.

Like a trash bag in a city wind, I get whisked away on the most extraordinary and bucket listy kinds of treasure days and dropped, heart first, into moments of astonishing beauty and wonderment.


kill the cat

Kill fake sureness.  Kill fake okayness.  Learn how to live a question and not settle for things that are not really answers. Trust your thirst.  Feed your greedy, curious heart what it needs to stay lusty and quaking.


Figure out how you storm

In a hurricane, there’s a quiet center where you can stand and watch wicked witches and lost cows whizzing by and not be smacked asunder by the chaos.

Find that spot. Stay in it as the storm moves. You’ll know you’re there because you can breathe.


Softly Wend

Linger, meander, moodle and soft shoe with life.

Stay tender, tender friend.  Soft and pliant like a cloud in God’s windy hands.


p.s. if you missed part one, here it is



I WANT to be the gal who navigates intuitively through her life like a star pirate captain, hearing bright new buzzes and fearlessly responding, weaving in and out of dangerous new galaxies in the nick of time.


But I don’t actually know how to do that, in almost all areas of my life.  


I am, in this moment, resisting the urge to google “how to live more intuitively” because that’s how much I don’t actually know how to live a life that way.  Do I KNOW that that’s the way to go about things?  Yesh, yesh I have read the memes. Yes I watch Super soul sunday. P.s. I am only managing not to google it because I made all my kids hide my devices and am writing longhand. #expert@selfcontrol    #zerohashtagskillz


It’s also fun to note that I discovered the depths of my befuddlement while teaching a class on the stuff.  Not awkward at all.  (in my defense, the urge to do the class was nearly overwhelming, and the generous participation of my students created the most downstream path to the clarity I was seeking).


I also didn’t know that was what I was really teaching. My mind thought it was guiding people through the framework of The Player’s Way.  My mind didn’t know that the player’s way is and always has been, the intuitive way. My heart knew all along, my heart has always known.

To be fair, I have led a pretty divinely led life, and encountered miracles almost daily since I was a wee teen.  But there was something new about the on purposeness of this event that thrilled me. A lot of my earlier experiences felt nearly out of control and wobbly with doubt, and barely letting it in kind of stuff.12188073_10154304546144202_8314630707216002505_o


From my journal: January 23rd, On the rocks at Kettle Cove

this morning I recognized a signal.  Not precisely that I have signals, and am connected to a much larger thing (duh), but I actually consciously recognized what it feels like, in real time, to appropriately and fully respond to the conversation a signal is inviting me into. Very similar to how it feels to respond to a hungry child, tugging at my leg in the kitchen wanting an apple, I listen, I feed, life moves forward, and the integrity and elasticity of the conversation remains intact.  


Simple jaunt along the shore that had turned rock climby.  The nearly always present choir of voices singing their various anthems in my head were in a relative harmony and my attention drifted more and more to the wind coming off the ferocious and  unrelentingly turquoise ocean. I felt freshly greedy to have more of that wind.  I wanted to take my jacket off. And let it have at me. Morely. Forever morely.


I note my state of being because I fidn it’s easier to hear and properly translate intuitive urges when you’re not crackling with anxiety.  


Then I heard it. Or more, felt it, an anxious feeling in my belly when I thot of taking a particular direction in my life, one that had been up for me for a week or so.  


And then the revolutionary thing happened: I said okay, we don’t go that way.


I’m just gonna listen.  Hungry child, apple.  Simple.


I’m hearing that, for whatever reason, this is a no-go right now.  I’m not going to give it another thought or explain my decision, not even to myself.  I’m gonna give the kid the apple and move on.  I’m gonna trust the system, trust the urges, trust my bright yesses and not get overly fascinated by my no’s, and generally trust my higher self leading me along the pathways that are best for me.

It’s easy to get really sweet on what is a no.  It feels irksome and the urges to give it a lot of attention can be nearly overwhelming.  When we set up our mental basecamp around a No, we locate our energy and the conversation of our life around the wrong question, and begin to drift and steer haphazardly, without that compass twang of being on path.  


I should note that the idea made every logical sense in the world. The new proposed business plan was both magical and logical AND an answer to some of my recent askings.  In other words, it should be a hell yes, but it made my tummy feel nervous in the not fun way, and every time I thought of moving ahead with it I got those cave walls falling in feeling that comes when I’m going in the wrong direction.  


In hindsight, I can see that if I had not acted on that intuitive intel, and had powered through and done it anyway, I would now be extricating myself, dramatically, from that situation now because the people who were involved have had a major change of life and are not ready to form that level of partnership.  


I see now that my higher self up ahead was putting out a long and lusciously far reaching beacon for me to see and follow.


Pause to feel the depths of my gratitude for that listening. What an extraordinary self kindness.  Thank you past self, thank you.


Why am I making such a big deal about this?  Because I think we’ve lost familiarity with the conversation our higher guidance is trying to have with our daily lives and only access that wisdom in sporadic moments of mediation or in retreats.   Our daily intuitive muscles have atrophied from self doubt and misuse.  


It all sounds so simple. And so obvious, like, what the hell else would you do?  But in practice, it can feel SO DIFFICULT to hear an inspired urge and act on it. It can feel like trying to become a barnacle or to win a hot air balloon race without a balloon, like, even a little red latex one, never mind a hot air one with a basket n’ shit.
We live such beautifully booming and full lives. There is SO much to compel our attention and we know that where our attention goes, so goes our life, so, it’s a radical act of self love to learn how to give more and more of our attention to the total conversation that these inspired urges are ultimately inviting us into. And not to do it half heartedly, but with total swag.  The way a playa might make it rain in a club or how Beyonce might do, well, everything she does. Boom. Doing it. Doing my Real Life, listening for urges, and following them. The end. Boomity boom boom.

Next up: How to actually work out those intuitive muscles via play


darling, it occurs to me to say: when you begin to turn towards your joy, in a real way, in a realer than ever way, in a, I’m not going back under, I’m gonna fucking show up for this conversation, halls n’ balls be damned kind of way, I have some very wondrous news, and some even wondrouser news. And neither of them are easy. Which to say first? The wondrous? Yes. Wondrous is always the place to begin: The more you show up for joy, the happier you become. And chronic happiness, like chronic sadness is a vibration. Lives that were built around one vibration, will begin to shift to match the new core frequency you’re beginning to feed, to grow, to let blossom. And that might mean that things leave. That things and situations that were coded to your prior humming, no longer match this new song. But don’t dally long in gazing as these march on out of your life, or in what manner they do, nor should you tarry too long gazing into the future about What That Means and How It All Will Work Out, for to do either of those is to lose that brand new allegiance that you’ve only just recovered, the one that has got all the wind back in your branches, and has all the songbirds in your heart out murmurating all over the ding dang cosmos in the most delectable ways. That is to say, if you pay too much attention to what you are no longer a match to, you have not the attention it takes to discover, revel in and cocreate the delicious new you are a match for. And the wondrouser bit? You have started down a course that you will never find a way to quit. Just like a gay cowboy, you will never know how to quit this waking quaking life. You have fallen too hard in love. May that love take you over and tsunami your beautiful existence, utterly. Also, and this is the part I meant to say 8 hours ago, but, hang the fuck on. Joy is the ladder. Don’t look down. Your whole life is going in the direction of your gaze. If I were a fairy godmother, I would bless you with the super power of exquisite focus, but even Not That Sloppy Focus will actually do.  Love, Natalie

Letter to a new family at Play Church, whose lives are quickly changing as they get happier and happier.