Stand In Your Power

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

These are the words that –
like an alarm –
woke me from a deep sleep
at 3am.

Who makes this kind of ultimatum?
Especially when that “peace” is violence perpetrated against us?
Especially when that “peace” results in residual and pervasive shame?
Especially when that “peace” means abdicating our throne
so someone else can claim power?

The truth is…
when told to,
“Speak now or forever hold our peace,”
many of us remain silent.

Even though every fiber of our being may be screaming out
to be heard, witnessed, acknowledged,
our bodies remember the betrayal
of “speaking now.”

From being burned at the stake,
drowned in a lake,
stoned to death,
or forced into hiding…
If it isn’t safe to speak,
we “forever hold our peace.”

But forever is a long time
to bear the burden
of silence.

If it takes a lifetime
to speak your truth,
so be it.

There is no time limit
to the truth.

And if it appears as if
no one is listening,
no one believes you,
it doesn’t change a thing,
and life as you know it is over …

Rest assured,
your actions have set cosmic consequences in motion.

Because when one woman speaks her truth –
publicly, calmly, confidently –
and is mocked by people of power and privilege,
it send shockwaves
of rage and outrage
that transmutes into courage
and rallies the rest of us
to stand fully in our power
and do the same.

“Leave safety behind. Put your body on the line. Stand before the people you fear and speak your mind–even if your voice shakes. When you least expect it, someone may actually listen to what you have to say. Well-aimed slingshots can topple giants.”  – Maggie Kuhn

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dream Hangover

Although I’m awake,
the dream hangs on,
the emotions linger,
even as the characters and circumstances
fade away.

I close my eyes again,
hoping to fall back into the world I left behind,
but my awakening has rearranged this ethereal reality
and all that remains
are remnants that refuse to be
Humpty-Dumptied back to together again.

They are all snippets of a day or a week of odd awarenesses…
moments that seemed inconsequential
but registered in my unconscious
as fodder for further exploration
by my dreaming mind.

My dream world has always been as active and available
as my waking consciousness,
often leaving me with the unsettling assumption
that to declare one “the dream world”
and the other “reality”
could be a gross miscalculation.

Why then do I play by such stringent rules
in the reality I’m so certain I control?
Why do I not remind myself that if
 life is but a dream
I can re-imagine it
on my own terms?

“To sleep, perchance to dream…”
or “to awaken, perchance to live the dream…”
perhaps that’s the real question.

 

©2018 Penny Plautz

 

 

 

I’m Still Here

I’m still here.

A flight risk with no exit plan
except the one
that had me leaving
years ago.

This was the day
I was supposed to walk away
from the life and the job I created
over the last decade.

The directive was clear.
If we build it…
they will come
and I will go.

Except I’m still here.

Year after year
I’m still here.

Who would have guessed?
Surely no one who knew me
from my gypsy days.

No one could have predicted
the return to the homeland
so far from the mountains that moved me
or the sunlight that saved me
or the solitude that allowed me to hear my soul’s stirring.

No one would have guessed
I would have traded the freedom that defined me
for the structure that now sustains me.

My day job has made many things possible
that my day dream could not…
continuing education,
international travel,
healthcare,
an influx of working capital for my own business,
and global connections.

For that I am eternally grateful.

I thought one year of playing full out
would be enough
to build a brand,
conjure up the courage,
and manifest the momentum
required to leap into the great unknown.

Perhaps I was a bit optimistic in my projections.

For a free spirit
who constantly hears
the call of the wild,
the call to stay
challenges me to my core.

I know adventure awaits.

And yet,
I’m still here.

I have not abandoned ship.
I have not abandoned my relationships.
I have not abandoned myself, my business, or my dreams.

Hold steady,
hold the vision,
hold my ground.

The next spiritual frontier appears to be
Holding On and Letting Go 
at the same time.

So I’m still here…
learning,
practicing.

A flight risk with no exit plan
except the one
that will emerge
when it’s time to fly.

 

 

 

 

 

Fireflies

Most of my training
encourages me to light up the night sky
in a spectacular burst of brilliance
like a firework that leaves
onlookers oohhhing and aaahhhhing…

But I wonder if the real magic
isn’t learning to shine my light like a firefly
in an unsuspecting field of wildflowers,
where no one in particular is watching,
but anyone who recognizes this light
blinks their own in response
and together we light up the world.

Your Body is a Wonderland

Lately, as I play my way to prosperity in my online Pennies From Heaven game, I’ve been embracing the idea of radical self-forgiveness and love. No calling in of abundance can truly take hold until I clear out the unconscious vows and beliefs that have been repelling it.

For me, it all starts with my body.

Many decades ago I convinced myself that my weight equaled my worth, so I did whatever I needed to do to stay thin and “acceptable”.

Unfortunately that meant starving myself and nearly losing my life to anorexia.

You’d never know it now.

You’d never suspect that a battle can erupt anytime despite a cease fire offered up years ago to stop the causalities. The loss of confidence, self-esteem, and inability to truly step into my power whenever the scale tips out of my favor can still be devastating.

So I’m trying a new approach.

Radical self-forgiveness.

Radical self-acceptance.

Radical self-love.

Not just for me, but for generations of women in my lineage and culture who have felt the shame of being in a body that has wants and needs that have to be held in check and stifled in order to be acceptable.

One way I’ve learned to put this into practice every day is through Ho’opononopono.  Instead of allowing the unconscious insults I’ve internalized to attack me as I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror before stepping into the shower, I say these four declarations of love and forgiveness to every part of my body from head to toe.

• I’m sorry.
• Please forgive me.
• I love you.
• Thank you.

Showering myself with this kind of intense love has the power to undo years of criticism.  By getting every single cell on board with idea that it is safe to be me in all my imperfections I am able to move forward and be seen as the powerful and passionate person I am.

It doesn’t happen overnight.

In truth, sometimes it doesn’t feel like anything is happening at all.

But when the moment arises and I have a choice to criticize, judge, or shame myself into submission and I choose acceptance, curiosity, and love, I know it’s working.

Here are the words that wanted to come through in my journal writing this morning.

• My body knows what it needs to heal
• My body knows what it needs to feel nourished
• My body knows what it needs to eat and when, how it likes to move and why, when it needs to rest and for how long
• Honoring, accepting, acknowledging, and giving thanks to my body every day is non-negotiable
• At my core I am a Cosmic Creation – who am I to reject that??
• In order to do my best work, think my clearest and cleanest thoughts, and take Inspired Action, I must have all cells on board, beaming with light and love and a sprinkling/sparkling of pixie dust.

What about you?  Your body is a wonderland.  How do you honor your Cosmic Creation?

I’d love to hear from you in the comments below.

 

 

 

 

Metamorphosis

Last week I traveled to Boston for the grand finale event of our year long coaching program with Margaret Lynch.  To say it was a miraculous year is an understatement.

I was able to do more in 12 months than I had in 12 years because I had an incredible community of support, solid training that made sense of all the programs and trainings that came before, and an unwavering commitment to leaving no stone unturned.

Being with my fellow Rockstars is a non-negotiable component of my success. Surrounding myself with others who are not only fearless in excavating the vows and beliefs that hold them back but actually taking action to remove these blocks has done wonders for igniting my power.

Saying goodbye to the safety of their support was so difficult.  So I did what I always do to move the emotions flooding my nervous system.  I wrote my way out of the pain.

Metamorphosis

My open heart breaks
as I board the plane home from Boston.

I can barely breathe,
although breathing is the only thing that can save me.

Each breath reminds me
that baring the exquisite pain of leaving this sacred circle
is possible only
by leaning into the intensity and vulnerability
and allowing my old identity to be sacrificed
on the alter of evolution.

The transformation has left me
as defenseless as the butterfly
emerging from the cocoon,
her wings heavy and wet,
dripping with the promise that soon
this new world order,
this unlikely re-imagination and integration of self
will allow me to fly.

 

Snow Bouquets

The weather forecasters predicted 5-8 inches of snow would fall between 12-6pm today. By noon all the area schools were closing early.

 

Eventually our college conceded and we got to close at 3:15pm. Ironically, we did not close because of the weather, but because of a water main break at the main campus.

 

Never one to miss out on the unexpected pleasures of a partial snow day, I donned my infamous snow attire and took the hooligans out for their second walk of the day.

 

I can’t tell you who was more excited at the prospect of being the first one to make tracks along the pristine path before us.

 

Me, who secretly likes to make my steps in the snow resemble the dance steps I used to discover on the inside of disco albums. (Feel free to ask me to demonstrate “the hustle” or “the bump”. Some things you simply never forget.)

 

The hooligans – the red, yellow, and chocolate labs obsessed with walking each other by holding each other’s leashes in their mouths.

 

My neighbor Becca, who decided walking with us would burn off the brownies I had just delivered to her door.

 

Her dog Roscoe, who waits at his door for my dogs to come by and get him.

 

Or her snow angel making son, the great Gavinski, who is currently sporting a blue cast on his right arm.

 

There was something in the air – or maybe the brownies – that had us all in the mood for mayhem.

Snow was tossed about.

Leashes were lost and found.

And when enough fun was had by all, the dogs and I went out to talk to the trees.

 

I have to do this sort of thing at twilight or the other neighbors get concerned. “What does that woman see in those trees?” “Is she actually talking to them?” they ask.

 

Yes.

Yes I am.

I am murmuring sweet nothings into their delicate branches. I’m fussing over them like a new mama because we planted them about four years ago and they are growing into fine young trees and I really need to let them know how much they mean to me.

 

In return for my attention they offered up the most exquisite gift. I can only describe them as snow bouquets. These trees are about my height so I could perfectly see how their branches cupped the snow like cotton in their protective boll.

 

And I realized they, too, are everyday alchemists offering up the most extraordinary gift in an ordinary snowfall.

 

What whispered to you today? Take note, dear ones. 

Wonder Awaits

The snow arrived just in time for Christmas.

The frigid temps followed,
cementing our snowy fate.

There is something oddly comforting about gearing up for winter weather –
the thermal underwear, snow pants, scarves, mitten, hats, boots, parkas, face masks
that promise to keep me safe and warm and waddling about in clothes
that have swollen in size with each layer.

My dogs can barely contain themselves.

Perplexed as to why I require so much prep time,
they don’t hesitate to voice their impatience.

Don’t I know the wonders that await outside our door?

Yes.

That’s why I go out.
Every day.
No matter how cold it is.

I love the way the day feels on my face.

It’s an unapologetically crisp reminder that I am alive
and as long as there is fresh air and sunshine,
I will find a way to breathe them in to my core
and animate my being in such a way that
sparks as much joy in my soul
as it does in my dogs’ tails.

Riding the Dragon

A few months ago I took a trip that changed my life.

I went to the pyramids of Teotihuacan with a shaman and a group of sixteen other women who together comprise the Wildflower Women’s Collective.

Teo is known as the place where “Man Becomes God” or in our case, “Women Become Goddesses”.  It lived up to its promise.

I had been successfully avoiding “the call” for quite some time, but this time my soul insisted there be no more dilly-dallying. The planet is in pain and the time is now for transformational coaches and healers to activate their superpowers and let the healing begin.

But before any of us can heal the world, we have to heal ourselves. This requires a deep dive into the truth of who we are – light and dark, creator and destroyer, lover and fighter, and all things magnificent and unmentionable.

You understand why I avoided the call for half a century?

In all honesty I wasn’t avoiding it so much as not stepping fully into it. I had many moments of recognition of who I was and what that would require of me and I chose not to fully act on this information.

Partly because it made me seem too woo-woo and strange to most people and partly because I didn’t know what I was doing. Most times it just felt like I was making stuff up.  Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. I told myself I was just playing around and pretending to know stuff, command the elements, and manifest the miraculous.

But the truth is, I do know stuff. I can command air, fire, earth, and water.  I can manifest the miraculous.  And you can too.

I got my first real sense of this power when I started a tapping practice. Tapping allows me to move massive amounts of energy and get at the root causes, vows, and agreements that keep me stuck in certain emotional loops. (The last post –  The Vows – was written after a tapping session.)

Tapping with a group can intensify the results. For me, learning to manage this energy has been tricky. After one particularly powerful group tapping session, I threw up for three days. Since I hadn’t been sick in over 10 years, this got my attention. Even though I can’t actually see the energy, I have to respect it and take the necessary precautions to work with it.

Just as a surgeon scrubs in and prepares herself and her patients with the proper pre-surgery protocols, I have learned to do the same.  I’ve established a set of rituals and boundaries that protect me and my clients while allowing the energy to move in and through us.

For me this is a combination of applying essential oils, calling in my Divine Assistance Team to open to the energy, grounding myself by feeling my feet firmly on the floor, and then releasing it all by grounding again when the process is complete.

It’s a bit like riding a dragon.  Wild, unruly, daring, powerful, potentially dangerous, out of control, magical, miraculous, breathtaking, thrilling, and unimaginably mind-blowing.

So, yes, if you intend to ride a dragon, riding lessons are required.

Today I start a series of classes with shaman Meghan Gilroy called The Secrets of Shamanism to hone my skills and train my dragon for more consistent and intentional results.

Because as Meghan was told by her mentor, riding a dragon can be alternatively  terrifying and exhilarating. But in the end you realize you are riding a frickin’ dragon.

Amazing! Who gets to do that?

You do, if you choose.

 

If you’d like to learn more about transformational coaching and what it can do for you, follow my 12 Days of Coaching starting December 4, 2017 at www.midlifemacgyver.com or email me at penny@wellpower.com for more info.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Vows

To those who know me, this poem may need a little explaining.  As I mentioned in our Sunday Stretch Series video, the whole point in sharing this very personal, very intense poem is because I truly believe in order to get to forgiveness, and ultimately to love, we have to burn through layers upon layers of anger.

A year ago I was at an event with Susan Hyatt and picked up a stone that read “Let go of anger.”  Well, that just pissed me off because I thought, “I’m not angry!”

As is often the case, I get a sign before I even know I’m looking for one. The rock message was no exception. When I joined Margaret M. Lynch’s coaching program and we started tapping (using EFT) through the chakras, it became clear I may be a little angry.

And yes, it frightened me.

Who knew all the anger bottled up inside me was preventing me from really opening my heart?  I spent 5 days in June getting certified in an emotional grueling Ignite Your Power process that addressed anger and all the other shadow issues hanging out in the lower chakras.  We just kept tapping through them, day after day. Tapping allowed us to safely move our emotions, to feel our rage without anyone actually getting hurt or feeling the brunt of it.

And eventually my heart cracked open. And continues to do so every single day.

But first I had to move the anger. I had to recognize the good girl vows I took to be liked, to play nice, to be a law-abiding citizen, and not embarrass my family or friends and break them.

I also had to go to the pyramids of Teotihuacán with a shaman and 16 soul sisters and die a symbolic death, but that’s another story.

I share the result of breaking of these vows in the poem below. I do so with the hope that you might look at your own unspoken vows or agreements and rewrite them.

For years I denied my power and silenced my voice.  Just recently I made a new vow in front of several witnesses to Own My Throne.  So with complete vulnerability I offer you The Vows.  (Despite a large vocabulary at my disposal, sometimes swearing is the only way to convey the intensity of an emotion. If you are easily offended, substitute something that suits your sensibilities.)

If you need help getting to the other side of your anger or finding your way back to love, please reach out to me.  Leave a comment below or email me at penny@wellpower.com. I have a whole tapping protocol  and coaching program focused specifically on tapping through the chakras that is incredible effective in dealing with this.

Copyright 2017 – Penny Plautz

Whatever vow I made to play small and stay safe,
I rescind
so that I can live large and grow freely.

Whatever vow I made to remain invisible,
I take back
so I can show up,
be seen,
and take my rightful place in the world.

Whatever vow I made to remain silent,
I vehemently reject
so I can speak my truth
and use my words and my voice
to stand up for myself and those who have no voice.

Whatever vow I made to relinquish my power and play the victim,
I retract
so that I can use that power to transform lives.

Whatever vow of poverty I made along the holy path to spirit and service,
I revoke
to become the bounty hunter who recovers my own unlimited wealth.

Whatever vows I made to be broken or damaged,
I shatter into a million jagged pieces
and claim my right to be whole and perfect in my imperfections.

Whatever vows I made to be less than,
I declare null and void
as I am equal to any task,
any situation,
any person I face.

I break these vows with all the righteous indignation and fury I can summon.
I burn these vows in the blazing heat of my heart break.

In my death to what no longer serves,
I resurrect anger as a call to action
against all that is inconceivable, intolerable, or unjust.

I allow the anger I have swallowed for a lifetime
to flow through me,
and finally be felt,
expressed,
honored,
and engulfed by the flame
that ultimately purifies, releases,
and sets me free.

Here’s what the encaged,
enraged anger,
silenced for half a century,
has to say:

I am not just angry.
I am furious.
I am a raging, fire-breathing warrior goddess
and I am coming for you.

I am coming for you
the minute you cross the line,
the minute you take what’s mine,
the minute you violate my body,
the minute you underestimate me
or assume you know what’s best for me
or patronize me or manipulate me or attempt to silence me,
the minute you undervalue me or take advantage of me
or refuse to pay me what I am worth,
the minute you pull your little man shenanigans
or justify your good-old-boy, narcissistic, misogynistic behaviors
or start with your unsolicited attacks,
crazy-making chaos,
or I’m-the-boss-of-you bullshit,

I will come for you.

Because I have had enough.
I will have the last word.
I will get my way.
I will see that justice is done.
I will protect and defend what’s mine.
I will destroy you if that’s what it takes.

I have had a lifetime of fury
that I have medicated,
contemplated,
rationalized,
and compromised away
and I refuse
REFUSE
to deny it any longer.

I refuse to deny my anger
and allow you to take what you want from me.

I refuse to accommodate your wants and needs without any regard
for what it’s costing me and costing the world.

I refuse to be ashamed of this outrage,
this burning anger
this hot, molten indignation
erupting
and wiping out entire villages
of those who assumed
I didn’t mind,
It didn’t matter,
and they were justified in
raping and pillaging.

Those who saw me as powerless,
Penny-less,
invisible,
silent,
or deserving of the destruction.

Little did they know
they picked the wrong
Mother Fucker to cross.

Because now there is no compassion.
There is no mercy.
There is no channeling of my higher self.

That part of me is gone,
she has left the building in a murderous rage
and unleashed her evil twin into the wild.

She has summoned her shadow
and She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Fucked-With
is now at the helm.

My advice to you?
Run.
Run while you still can.

If her rage touches you
you will spontaneously combust
from the intensity.

This kamikaze fighter pilot
will go down in flames
before she allows you to ever again
dishonor, disrespect,
or do damage to her and all that she holds sacred.

No one protected the princess,
so she abdicated the throne.
And now the nice, quiet, good girl has come back
as the Queen of Badassery
to torch the list of vows taken
to ensure her survival
and replace them with this promise:

I Will Own My Throne.
The cycle of suffering stops with me.

I did not come here to be abused or abased of my power.
The only way to defend and protect my lineage
is to let this inferno of anger consume me,
envelope me,
and burn the old vows to the ground
so the new vows
can rise like the phoenix
from the ashes.

I came here to create, to love, to learn, to express,
to challenge, to rise, to fall, and ultimately, to forgive.

I came here to manifest the miraculous
and be a powerhouse of passion, purpose, and possibilities.

These are the new vows.
This is the legacy that starts with me.

After a lifetime of waiting for a Messiah
to deliver me from this anger,
I now know I am the one I’ve been waiting for.
I am the answer to my own prayers.
And when the anger subsides,
all that will remain
is a fierce commitment
to this new legacy of love.

I am the heir apparent to the Queendom.
It’s time for me to step into my rightful place
and Own My Throne.

God Save the Queen.

Copyright 2017 – Penny Plautz