You're not here to help everyone. (Neither am I.)

You're not here to help everyone. (Neither am I.)

Recently, I decided it was time for me to explicitly focus my practice on women.

As soon as I brought it to mind, my heart swelled. I felt whooshes of whole body excitement:

I love working with women! I love the sisterhood of shared stories and struggle. I love their yearning for connection. I love helping them unravel the holdings of obligation. I love helping them come home to themselves. I love entering into ritual + sacred space with women. I love seeing them return to trust their own deep wisdom. I love helping them find ways every day to feel in tune with earthly rhythms and soulful desires....

Then came the piles of fear and gut-wrenching doubt:

I have awesome male clients, some of the sweetest men on earth, men who anyone would pretty much dream of working with. So why would I let them go? They really enjoy my work. They might not be able to find someone else. They might take it personally.

These fears kept me in a holding pattern for a little while--they clouded my thinking.

There were so many reasons and explanations that just made sense.

But then, eventually, after some really honest chats with myself and feedback from people I trust, the truth shook out.

I realized this is just one more step on my ongoing internal shift away from shoulds (“I should help everyone”), right and wrong thinking (“it’s the right thing to do”), and what "makes sense" (i.e. "the right thing" again), to instead—simply doing what fits--for me.
Doing what feels like a whole-body-yes.

Doing what's scary, but honors my soul's needs.
Because here’s what I know:
There are so many beings in the world who need help and support....
...dogs, trees, pandas, toddlers, prisoners, bees, teenage boys, refugees.
There is only a limited amount time and energy I have to give.
The best way I can give is in a way that brings the most profound benefit to others, while feeding and inspiring myself, so that it brings out even more of the goodness I have to share.
And how do I know when this is?
When I feel the zing. When my heart feels like it’s going to explode.
When the tears and laughter come easily.
When I lose track of time, and feel carried and held and free flowing at the same time.
When whoever is with me feels deeply seen and heard, with their eyes gleaming and their soft face shining.
This is when I know I’m connected to my purpose, my calling, my strengths.

When I have that feeling I know that I’m doing the work I’m supposed to do.
It feels like magic.

So I want to invite you, today, to make one decision based in this magic.
Pick one thing today--a person or situation that’s asking for your energy.

Step away from the pros and cons, give yourself space from the sneaky voice that says “but they need me.”
And instead, choose something that fits.
Choose what feels like it's actually choosing you.
Choose what feels like a whole-body-yes!
This takes some deep trust that when you say no, the situation will work out however it will, that the person you care about will find their way (maybe even to someone else who has the specific gift that other person needs--and that when they meet that need with their gifts, it lights them up, it feels like magic for them.)

Don't worry if it feels weird, this trust is like a muscle, it gets stronger with practice.
So, let yourself ease away from a “should” today. If you hear yourself saying “but it’s the right thing to do,” let that be a little hint that you're pulling on your own strings of obligation.
Can you trust that they will find their own way?
Can you admit that you might not be the best helper for them right now anyway?
Can you sense freedom in moving toward what brings you deep life-sustaining, soul-stirring joy?