Essays

You're Killing The Vibe (An Essay)

in , , ,

All the thinking about it and talking about it kills the vibe.

Chokeholds the magic.

Loops bullshit on repeat.

And inevitably goes nowhere.

All the analysis.

The comparing.

The measuring.

The regulating.

All the layers you add to what’s meant to be bare.

All the ways you jam your system just because you intervene.

A system that naturally runs as it’s meant to, without you doing a thing.

All the intellectualizing.

Content-seeking.

Meaning-finding.

Matter-bonding.

All of it does nothing.

Except fill what you misperceive needs filling.

Tainting what was already pristine.

Because the ‘space’ is just too much to take.

So you exhaust yourself creating a bunch of new shit,

to make sure you’re never free of said shit.

And also never full of what’s true.

All the ways you run from this moment.

From truth.

From the gorgeous depths of YOU.

And for what?

To keep seeking what you already are.

And never finding what’s already here.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

The Bullshit of High-End Coaching (An Essay)

in , , , , , , ,

Last year a hottie made a comment to me about the low caliber of client that comes with charging low prices.

And she was really sold on this bullshit narrative because she was being charged, and was charging, a wild amount for ‘high-end’ coaching at the time.

Which in and of itself isn’t an issue.

I’m pointing to the idea that a certain price point yields a certain quality of person.

It doesn’t.

Energy leads.

Not money.

I worked with Sanna for a year and didn’t pay a dollar for it.

As if I was a low calibre client.

As if she wasn’t the best ‘mentor’ on the fucking planet despite not charging me a penny.

Nothing was reduced just because a dollar amount wasn’t attached and a dollar wasn’t exchanged.

But I digress.

A couple of weeks ago, the said hottie took me up on my $50 for 30 minute deal (a rare deal since I currently charge $750 USD for a 30 minute call).

I was delighted.

Obviously her narrative had changed, and we had a beautiful call unrelated to money.

Then last week, she asked to book a second call to talk specifically about money.

Because despite investing in and offering ‘high-end’ coaching, it hadn’t really panned out, her money was almost gone, and she was starting to freak the fuck out.

I asked how much remained.

The number was hella low.

And that number turned me on because of how low it was.

Because crunch time means truth time so let’s fucking GO.

Let’s get to the guts of what was avoided when she spent and made those big dollars while by-passing the absolute truth.

Because if the investment and the sales were sourced from that (meaning there was no matter whatsoever), she wouldn’t be freaked out by this low number and she wouldn’t fear what may or may not come from this point on.

She’d also see that the anxiety isn’t from a dwindling bank account at all.

It was always there.

Reliant on, and in response to, illusory external security (and lack thereof) since the internal still lacks the stability required to feel secure regardless of externals.

Now it’s just being highlighted.

Damn, I love the crunch.

Because despite appearances, the crunch doesn’t create anything that wasn’t already there.

It just just shows you exactly where you’re at.

What you’re REALLY working with.

And how easily you can be moved.

And that you still have work to do.

Because if you’ve been using money or another as the buffer between you and YOU, you’re gonna come face to face with that in the absence of the money or the other.

Good.

Now we’re actually getting somewhere.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

Don't Pay To Get Something (An Essay)

in , , , , , ,

In a call yesterday, the fella was talking about high ticket coaches and the idea that he needed to invest in them to make those big dollars himself.

I said there’s no A to B connection.

If you’re investing in someone to make money or to ‘get’ anything, it’s not a clean move.

Sure it can ‘work’ for a while.

You might land some big ass sales.

But as long as there’s an ulterior motive, those dollars are counterfeit aka not pure which means you’ll still end up exactly where you were until you’re ready to strip everything that led you to chasing the money in the first place.

The idea of paying someone for a future something you think you don’t already have, has got to go.

Pay someone because it feels hot as fuck to play with them.

That’s it.

Not for the thing.

Not for some illusory outcome you’re banking on to get your money’s worth.

Only for the experience you can’t get anywhere else with anyone else because your being just told you so.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

True vs Counterfeit (An Essay)

in , , , , ,

A true life and a counterfeit life can appear the same on the surface but are eons apart underneath.

The first is the A side.

The true side.

Rich. Juicy. Alive.

The second is the B side.

The false side.

Empty. Flat. Dead.

You can tell which reality you’ve chosen not by how it looks, but by how it feels.

It’s the energy that speaks what’s true.

You can make a ton of ‘empty’ money.

Have plenty of ‘empty’ sex.

Work countless ‘empty’ hours.

Recite plenty ‘empty’ I love yous.

But what’s the fucking point?

How about money, sex, time and love

that’s dripping with truth,

and overflowing with YOU.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

There Is No Final Frontier (An Essay)

in , , , , ,

There is no last piece.

No final frontier.

No specific area(s) you need to work out once and for all and then you’ll be good to go for the rest of your life.

Nope.

The game has no end.

You’ll never be done.

And the work remains the same.

You’re just playing with matter and its inevitable dissolution.

Regardless of the content or density.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

Seeing Through The Public Persona (An Essay)

in , , , , , , ,

You can swap the coach, the paradigm, the partner.

You can change the business, the lingo, and make big money.

You can lose the weight and hit a new personal record.

And STILL not shift energetically.

Just because you switched the box and the externals look different, it doesn’t mean a damn thing changed.

And just because others paint a superficial and strategically crafted picture of themselves publicly, doesn’t mean it’s the real thing, as you already know.

These days, when I read certain posts from those I once looked up to who are still selling the same flat experience (but now in a sparkly new package), those I thought had ‘made it’ and knew something I didn’t because I didn’t yet trust myself fully and I was reading their content (which sold me) instead of their energy (which speaks the actual truth),

I can now feel where they’re really at, regardless of what they’re saying.

And in all this time, nothing got cleaned up.

They never actually moved.

They simply added new words, new offers, and new price points from that same exact place.

Pretending something new has taken place, and maybe it has circumstantially, but energetically it’s stagnant as hell and wasn’t truly alive to begin with.

But back then I was sold on the external narrative.

My ravenous desire to find answers to my perceived dilemmas and relief from what ailed me, clouded my ability to discern between what was being presented in the physical and what was actually loud as fuck in the non-physical.

The cleaner I got, the easier it was for me to read between those lines.

To feel the truth beyond the words.

To know where someone’s actually at instead of where they’ve positioned themselves to be.

So I came to understand that some of the most celebrated and followed ‘teachers’ are the ones drowning in the most bullshit.

They’re energetic hot messes.

Which captivates and motivates those who are also drenched in matter.

They love the resonance.

The feeling of ‘same’.

I love the void.

The feeling of clean.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

The NO vs The Edge (An Essay)

in , , , , ,

When there is a big, fat NO in my system that I didn’t catch right away, I feel sick in my throat.

It feels like dread.

It feels heavy and icky in my gut.

Things feel serious, tight, restricted.

And that dense feeling eclipses everything else until I figure out where the NO must be applied and how.

It doesn’t matter that I missed / ignored it the first time or how long I kept missing / ignoring my NO.

It doesn’t even matter who or what or why.

There’s a NO in my brilliant system and to keep saying YES to it would be a lie.

That sick feeling is proof that I missed / ignored it and kept missing / ignoring it or else it couldn’t have gotten to the point of full blown dread.

Who cares.

New moment.

New move.

Let’s rock.

When there is an edge in my system, I also feel sick.

Nauseous.

Hella nervous.

Like I’m at the top of a rollercoaster about to go down.

But there is no heaviness.

No dread.

No lump in my throat at all.

Nothing feels icky.

It feels exhilarating.

Fascinating.

Fun and light and limitless.

Yummy and also terrifying.

It’s not knowing what the fuck is gonna happen but being so willing to take this wild ride just because it’s true, and to let my fear stop me would be a lie.

And so…

A true NO is telling me to stop.

A true edge is telling me to go.

(Peep this Mandy Bite)

That’s how I tell the difference.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

Why You Don't Get All The Things (An Essay)

in , , , , , , ,

You don’t get ALL THE THINGS just because you’re ‘doing the work’.

You get ALL THE THINGS THAT ARE TRUE FOR YOUR BEING EVERY FUCKING STEP OF THE WAY FOR THE REST OF YOUR FUCKING LIFE regardless of the work.

Which is what you’ve been getting since the moment you were born.

So ‘doing the work’ doesn’t change the fact that you’re always exactly where you need to be in whatever circumstance you find yourself in that’s undoubtedly refining you beautifully.

Doing the work just ‘removes’ the illusory shit in the way of you seeing how fucking perfect it all is regardless of how it appears or what does or doesn’t happen because let’s face it, shit is always happening.

That’s life.

What is or isn’t happening is never the problem.

How we misperceive it, is.

Someone in a relationship isn’t more advanced / on track than someone not in one, and vice versa.

Someone with a fuckton of cash isn’t more advanced / on track than someone with nada, and vice versa.

Someone with a specific health condition isn’t less advanced / less on track than someone without one, and vice versa.

You can’t use external metrics to measure the quality of one’s inner experience or the precision of one’s energetic game because the work has nothing to do with the external even though it can impact it.

Things most definitely move more seamlessly when you’re actively doing the work simply because you’re not repeatedly jamming your own circuits with your own bullshit / clutter / mispercepetions / expectations.

And if you’re attached to what your ‘been doing all the work’ life should look like (the man, the fat account, 20 pounds lighter, whatever the fuck), you’re still not hitting the right spot because you’re aiming for something ‘out there’ to validate what you’re doing ‘in here’ instead of staying right here where the magic really happens (which has nothing to do with what does or doesn’t happen externally).

Doing the work (seeing through the matter) results in being okay no matter what happens and no matter what it ends up looking like, and trusting (well it’s even beyond trust - you just KNOW) that your being knows far better than you what the hottest concoction is for you every step of the way (if you’d just get outta the damn way and do exactly what you know you need to do because you’re being told how to move in every fucking moment).

And it’s not that you won’t ‘get’ the cash or the man or the body whatever else it is you think you want.

It’s that you inevitably get to a place where you’re so fucking juiced even without it, that you’re not even feeling like a damn thing is missing (because nothing ever is), and you know that what’s truly for you is both inevitable and ever-present, and you know it’s the experience you’re after; not the thing itself,

as the unimaginable licks you from head to toe

in ways you never even dreamed of.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

How To Make Every (Non) Move (An Essay)

in , ,

making your move

based on / for / because of another

based on / for / because of the external

based on / because of what you imagine may or may not happen in the illusory future you’ll never actually meet because it will always and forever be NOW

is not the vibe

you need to make every single move

and every non-move, too (same thing)

from and for you

just because it’s true

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

Managing The Bottomless Pit (An Essay)

in , , , , , ,

If you’re managing your thoughts,

you’re managing matter.

If you’re managing your emotional state,

you’re managing matter.

If you’re managing your health,

your finances,

your relationships

or any other part of your life,

you’re managing matter.

Seems like a lotta fucking work.

Exhausting, never-ending, bottomless pit work.

Because there will always be thoughts and emotions.

There will always be the body, other people and the bank account.

There will always be the woes of the world and this strange little thing called life.

But those things on their own are never the ‘issue’,

no matter what they are or aren’t comprised of.

It’s all the matter surrounding them that causes you grief.

Clear that and there’s nothing left to ‘manage’.

Every (illusory) problem solved.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

It's Not About The Price (An Essay)

in , , ,

It’s not: ‘Of course they make a lot of money. Look how much they charge.’

If it was as simple as that, then why don’t you try to charge what they charge and see what happens.

Spoiler Alert:

Nothing will happen.

Because your move wasn’t true.

It was tainted with something artificial to prove.

There are people charging at every single price point for all kinds of things.

Some are making a killing.

Some are not.

And it’s not the price that determines that.

A high price doesn’t guarantee it will be sold.

Nor does a low one.

You already know this.

So it’s not about the price itself.

It’s about what’s actually true.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

Don't Touch Their Shit (An Essay)

in , , , , ,

People don’t shit on my posts.

But I see people shitting on other people’s posts.

And then people responding to said shit.

Engaging with said shit.

Thereby creating even more shit.

But here’s the thing.

You don’t have to touch another person’s shit.

Ever.

You can actually just let the person sit in their shit.

You can refuse to partake in their self-created shit show.

And when their thrown-about shit has nowhere to stick,

it lands exactly where it belongs.

With the shit disturber themself.

Who is now being confronted with their shit that wouldn’t stick.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

Through The Eye Of Your Own Needle (An Essay)

in , , , , ,

When you’re able to go through the eye of your own needle,

that very narrow space where nothing but you exists,

because you’ve remained so. fucking. close to the absolute truth of your being,

thereby becoming so energetically ‘tight’ that you fit through that very narrow space where nothing but you can move through in the first place…

what’s there for you on the other side,

is the greatest ride of your life.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

Tighter, Baby (An Essay)

in , ,

How energetically sharp / clean / tight can you get?

Before you say anything.

Before you do anything.

When you say anything.

When you do anything.

How pure are you willing to be?

Is the true move to actually open that message right now?

To respond to it right now?

To write exactly what you wrote?

Did you even MEAN that?

Or were there add-ons?

Embellishments.

Half truths or whole lies.

Is the true move to answer the phone just because someone’s calling?

Or is it to call that person back?

Or to stop talking to them altogether?

Is the true move to spend your money on that particular thing?

For that amount exactly?

Or to not spend a damn thing.

And save every dollar you get.

Is the true move to take a nap?

To sleep in?

To stay up?

To go a week barely catching a wink?

Each of these things are oh so little but they make up your entire life.

And the way you play with each little thing is then how you conduct your whole life.

So how true are your moves?

How YOU are you?

And how much truth are you leaving on the metaphorical table because you automatically default to false?

Clean it up.

As the fucking boss that you inherently are, you gotta use whatever and whoever is in front of you right now, to make your truest, hottest, yummiest move.

You don’t have to wait for anything or anyone or for something BIG, for you to move like a boss.

No happening is ever too small.

And every single happening is what you must use,

to sharpen your energetic game.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

Anything Less Is A Lie (An Essay)

in , , , , ,

My hands shook when I sent her the number for our call ($25,000).

An unexpected but completely accurate number for her and I.

A number I didn’t think my way to.

I just knew in a moment.

It’s this or nothing.

Anything less (or more) - a lie.

A lie that would soften the edge of ME.

And I’d rather die than do such a thing.

She could take it or leave it.

That wasn’t the point.

Nor was the amount I chose.

I’m here to ride my edge all the fucking way,

and see how far I go.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

Late To My Own Party (An Essay)

in , , ,

Years ago I wrote,

“Why is the world so late to my party?”

Because I knew what I was.

And yet, I could barely touch HER.

And I thought (rather felt; not even consciously - only in retrospect) that if others caught on before I did, I’d somehow land in ME.

Except plenty did catch on.

Plenty saw ME long before I saw HER.

Long before I could live as HER without the split that kept me blind.

It was me not showing up for MY own party.

And I didn’t even know.

All I knew is that it hurt so bad,

to feel so damn far from ME.

△

collections · let’s play · shop · tip · subscribe

“I heard someone say that you should always be a half a step ahead because otherwise a full step is too far and people aren’t able to follow along. Sure, you stand alone but like… literally all alone. I’ve always felt so far ahead and also very much alone. This need to be understood and followed by others has what has kept me waiting and idling while I hope the world will catch up. Then… before I know it, someone else has created that thing that has been incubating and was now sitting dead and unhatched. To have a finger in the pulse of something that isn’t actually alive yet takes balls and yes... big ole dick energy to carry forth into the world. Always fucking waiting for the world to catch up is a trap. Plus… it’s not even fun doing shit everyone else is doing anyway. Man, what was I thinking.” Kristin Moyer