Happy Galentine's Day! Be Hopeful.

Jess here.

As some of you know, I'm going through a divorce. Or actually, I am divorced? It took four days and $377. (I think pandemic divorces are the exit version of shotgun weddings.) While I'm grateful it wasn't contentious, and my overriding emotion since agreeing to divorce has been relief, four days was a little quick for me. So I did what I always do in "wth just happened" situations, and I sought out support.

My friends showed up because I am surrounded by QUEENS. My therapist earned his paycheck. And I reached out to an incredible tarot card reader who asked me some background questions (birthdates, names) as well as this strange question: what is my relationship with hope?

Oh, I told her proudly, I'm full of hope, despite all the crap I've endured.

Then I waited for my gold star.

She. Blew. My. Mind instead. Hope is a trap, she said calmly.

When we hope, we're wishing for people and situations to be other than they are. We need hope to survive, but it keeps us locked in patterns because hope is waiting for someone or something outside of us to change.

Instead, we must be hopeful, she told me. Being hopeful is an action, a movement. Hopefulness is trust: in self, in life, and in intuition. While hope waits—it's whole job is waiting, in fact, and it gilds our cage so we can wait forever—hopefulness listens, trusts, and leaps, even when (especially when) it's terrifying.

That's a lot for me to unpack. I grew up in a terrifying home environment. I survived on hope, and I brought that same energy to my marriage (and every intimate relationship, if I'm honest). The idea of trusting myself and my wholeness, trusting that I get to play, that I get to have a partner who meets me where I'm at (and sometimes even leads the way to a better place) instead of hoping that he'll someday get there? That's a different operating manual than the one I was handed at birth. But it's something I'm now hopeful about. ;)

For Galentine's Day, I'm sending a whole bucket of that hopefulness your way. Listen to your intuition, because she's singing.
Because I'm equal parts creative and practical, I also got you something that costs cheddar: $49, to be exact. Read on.

A WRITING PLAYGROUND FOR YOU THIS GALENTINE'S

For Galentine's, I'm also gifting you free access to one of my favorite writing courses: How to Choose a Genre! Except it's so much more than a writing course. It's a playground for your creativity, a great big sandbox where you get to romp and explore and paint with words. Put aside an hour just for you and enter this playground, leaving all expectations at the door. You'll be amazed at what you discover.

If prompted for a promo code, use GALENTINE. Hurry—the promo code expires Monday, February 15, 2021.

p.s. We have five spots left in our August 2021 safe and room luxury yoga and writing retreat! A 25% deposit reserves your spot. Learn more.