The bullshit that’s stopping you from showing the fuck up!

Oh my lord,

what are you doing?

Sitting there in the corner,

waiting for someone to see your shyly raised hand,

to give you permission to speak.

Are you kidding me Sunshine?

When did you decide that another has authority over you?

When did you start thinking that it’s okay for you to slink around in the shadows so as not to disturb anyone else?

Okay, so on the one hand I have compassion for you.

I remember the sting of the ruler coming down on bare hands as punishment for breaking their rules.

I remember the blistering heat of the belt raining down on my ass in an attempt to squash my passion as I dared to speak my truth.

On the other hand I have to say –

YOU’RE NOT FUCKING SIX ANYMORE!

How much longer are you going to play in their fear-induced space of hypocrisy and enslavement?

How many more mornings are you going to allow yourself to wake up

feeling miserable,

hopeless,

powerless,

defeated.

Your hands bound behind your back,

your voice muffled by the sock they told you to put into your mouth.

All the time,

lying to yourself,

in a desperate attempt to feel a little better.

That tomorrow is going to be different.

That tomorrow you’re going to wake up feeling a little less exhausted.

That tomorrow you’re going to show them what you’re made of.

That tomorrow you’re going to be courageous and tell them what you really think.

That tomorrow you’re going to be fearless.

BULLSHIT – WHEN YOU CHOOSE TO BE A PUSSY TODAY YOU’RE CHOOSING TO BE A PUSSY TOMORROW!

For choice only happens in the now.

Which means as long you’re saying tomorrow,

you’re choosing your today FOR tomorrow.

I WON’T STAND FOR IT ANY LONGER!

I’m done watching people sitting there in their mental cages,

disconnected from their passion,

to the point that they’re having

FAKE ORGASMS

in their beds

in their conversations

in their actions

in their businesses

in their lives.

No wonder the younger generation look at us and tell us to

FUCK OFF!

That they don’t want our lives.

Our choices.

Our rules.

Do you remember that you used to say the same?

Or was that just me?

And then,

you became your parents.

Time for some straight talk, so you can get very  clear on the fact that

YOU’RE THE JAILOR OF YOURSELF.

And if your’e not thriving, you’re fucking DYING.

YOU are this immense power,

and for some reason you’ve chosen to stuff yourself into a tiny container,

nailed the lid shut,

because heaven forbid you should take up some SPACE!

After all,

there’s so many of us,

billions,

that we all need to shrink a little more so as not to step on another’s foot.

We have to want less money because the economy can’t possibly facilitate all we desire.

We have to speak a little softer because the cacophony of bullshit is becoming deafening.

We have to feel less passion through increased depression (the opposite) because our high vibration is shaking the planet out of orbit.

What this leads to is a constipated population of mediocre zombies,

told to sit down, shut up and pay attention from the time they’re five years old,

fed shitty foods leading to obesity,

so they can swallow ‘magic’ pills that promise to make them skinny,

except the constant see-saw scale breaks their spirit,

which has them back at the counter this time for drugs that will level their out of control emotions,

factory produced chemicals that sap their energy so they sit on their couches,

escaping reality through Lala Land on the screen,

designed to fuck up their brainwaves and capacity for free thinking,

ensuring they are obedient little workers,

getting into their hearses in the morning on their way to dead-ending jobs,

zero soul allowed.

When the fuck did we decide that this was okay?

That this is the system,

the tradition,

the tribe,

which deserves to be upheld and honoured

at the cost of

EVERYTHING.

Why?

Just because if you dared to look around and say

‘this is fucked up’

you will be criticised?

Branded a traitor to your culture?

Seen as a trouble-maker?

Well maybe it’s time more of us actually stop giving a shit

about the labels and the pats on our docile little heads

and

WAKE THE FUCK UP!

SPEAK THE FUCK UP!

RISE THE FUCK UP!

And start releasing ourselves from the imprisonment of co-dependency.

At the end of the day we all have a choice to make,

today,

right now actually,

and that choice is simple –

how do you want to be remembered?

And I’m going to let you off the hook here Darling,

because maybe you’re not really like me.

Maybe all you want to be remembered for is a good little woman or a responsible little man.

Maybe all you want to be remembered for is that pleasant guy or gal who everybody liked,

but nobody can actually remember a single thing you stood for,

a single word that you spoke,

as it never caused a moment of reflection,

a pause in their daily existence.

That’s okay if that’s your choice.

What I’m not okay with is that if you are in fact an artist, a creative, a revolutionary leader,

and you’re showing up as a domesticated little bitch.

I’m not okay with you lying to yourself because speaking your truth,

finally,

showing up for your life purpose,

finally,

taking up space in the world,

finally,

shining your brilliance,

finally,

is scary AS FUCK!

You know what –

I’m scared too.

I hurt too.

I bleed too.

I cry too.

But I will not go down in silence,

just so that I don’t bother the bullies of the world.

I will not write the popular ‘7 steps to whatever the fuck’ articles to convince others that there’s only ONE way to success.

I will not even define SUCCESS for others.

Because I believe that every person gets to decide life on their own terms.

EVERYTHING in life – even what words mean to them and how they want to use those words.

I will not be another asshole giving more rules which are applicable only to me.

I will much rather be remembered by some as that crazy bitch who spoke nonsense all the time,

by others as that relentless fighter for freedom from mediocrity.

The ones who, one day, gave themselves permission to speak out,

to leave behind all that was toxic and debilitating,

to find their reason for living,

to own their desires,

to say the words that have been driving them mad on the inside.

I choose to be remembered as the childish misfit who shamelessly splashed through the mud even in her eighties.

I choose to be remembered as the mother who never told her kids they couldn’t do it, and who showed them what that looks like.

I choose to be remembered as the coach who believed in her clients, even in the moments when they didn’t believe in themselves, thereby having them rise to their true potential.

I choose to be remembered as the woman who allowed herself to love fully, without socially approved containers.

I choose to be remembered as Anel.

But who gives a fuck right?

All that really matters is what you choose to be remembered for?

For that starts right now.

What will be your next move?

For choice entails action.

Only physical death is inevitable Darling.

Will you choose your brave and thrive today?

With love and appreciation for you,

Anel.

PS:  I have designed The Mindset, Business $ Money Evolution for entrepreneurs who choose to thrive.

Those brave enough to define success for themselves.

Those committed enough to own their victory.

Those who seek to surround themselves with like-minded rebels who choose to thrive and have fun building their empires.

Enrolment closes Friday.

I look forward to welcoming you into our conversations.