Question:

Why are so many suddenly without the work they've relied on for decades? They are suffering, depressed, feeling useless; at least one known to me has taken their life over all the prior successes falling apart and material “proofs” of value falling away.

People think they have no value now that, at least on the surface, nothing works to create work. All their manifestation techniques, rituals, prayers, even marketing moves are evaporating into thin air after producing no material results.

It’s as if someone has turned the lights off in a room that used to thrive with activity and satisfaction.

What is happening?

Answer:

As the waves of change ripple through the collective, you find yourself tossed in the air, grasping for anything to hold onto.

Spinning, unmoored, lost as the familiar crumbles before your eyes and everything you've held tightly is torn away.

Like children losing their toys, you are required to open your hands. Tantrums and fits delay the inevitable loss.

The world has changed and is changing rapidly. The tighter you cling to what once was your security, the more painful life becomes.

You were raised to see your value in your productions, your outcomes, your tangible achievements, and they are not working anymore. The ways you sought and achieved approval, the ways you gathered belonging to the breast.

The ways that you ensured you had a place in the tribe and were never at risk of being kicked out and left all alone are all breaking.

You are being forcibly turned back unto yourself.

Every time you look outward, your eyes go blind.

Every time you reach externally, something slaps your hand away, knocking loose the thing you were reaching for.

Every time you seek to establish a sense of security in what once was, you're left more confused. Why won't this work? This has always worked. This is the way I always do the ritual. This is the way I always perform the magic. This is the way I always work.

Not anymore.

You are being forcibly turned to look upon yourself as the source, the resource, the ultimate end-all, be-all of value. Your value is not outside yourself. And while that has been a platitude for many hundreds of years, the reality is here now.

The reality is you must understand there is no worth outside the chambers of your own heart.

There is no value to find. You already are the value. Your mere existence contributes value to the collective. And the more you try to reject that as too simple, too easy, as nonsense, the harder life gets.

The ways you used to manifest don't work.

The ways you used to relate no longer work.

You are being asked, and then you will be forcibly turned to come to ground, to come to center within your own physical body.

The more you try to recreate what once worked, the more fragmented and frustrated you become. The instructions are to pull your energy back, to pull all your power back to you now. To draw it back immediately. Set everything down and listen. Turn the TV off. Turn the cell phone face down. Stop amplifying the misery with each other, complaining and complaining, trying to brainstorm, trying to create from that which has died, and you have just failed to realize it yet.

If you only feel good when money is in the bank, this is where your work is.

If you only feel good when a certain person approves of you or smiles at you, this is the work.

If you only feel good looking at a number in your pants or on the scale, this is the work.

There is no definitive definition of goodness outside yourself. There is no value to be had except that which with, which resides within.

There will be no more satisfaction in other people's approval.

There will be no more peace to be found by having a certain amount of money in the bank.

There will be no more satisfaction to be had with anything outside yourself.

When fear strikes because there is nothing to hold onto and you are standing on shifting sand, sit down in your heart.

Sit down on the earth.

Sit down and be still. Listen. There is nothing to do because there is nothing to do. All the actions you frantically take increase the fragmentation.

Sit down. Listen.

When you catch yourself reaching out, sit down.

When you catch yourself trying to figure it out, sit down, be still, listen.

This is the end of the message. We hope you heed it.

BE'N The Gang
Aug 3, 2026

XO,
LMW

P.S. I will be talking more about the waves of emotions and how to process them as they travel through the collective energy and affect our individual bodies, as I teach the Forest Reiki® energy healing method live in September. You can explore if this is for you HERE.

You get home, the day starts to slip away, and you collapse onto the couch with one mission: numb out.

1. Watch Netflix

2. Doom scroll

3. Eat snacks

4. All of the above

No judgment here. We’re fucking tired. The world is loud, heavy, and relentlessly chattering. Zoning out isn’t a character flaw; it’s a nervous system asking for a break in the easiest to access ways.

Here’s what I know about this pattern: right before we collapse into the couch, there’s a window. A tiny gap between “the day is over” and “let me disappear into a screen.” And in that gap, the one between thought/action, stimulus/response, we have a choice to make.

We can numb out immediately.

Or we can spend a few minutes doing something so simple it sounds almost stupid, and then numb out anyway, if we still want to.

The Practice

This takes less time than one episode of anything.

1. Remember someone we love. Actually picture them. Let the warmth of that relationship rise up in your chest. This is your kick-start; the embodied sense of love for one specific person (or animal) is always more accessible than “love” as a vague concept.

2. Imagine roses pouring out of our hearts, radiating a loving light. Let the image be as vivid as you can make it. Petals, warmth, color, light — whatever helps you feel it rather than just think it. Notice how your body responds.

3. Fill our houses, cities, states, countries with this loving light. Let it move outward in expanding rings. Your room. Your street. Your city. Your state. Your country. Keep going.

4. See and feel it expanding to cover the whole world. The whole thing. Every ocean, every border, every rooftop. Hold the whole world in this rose light.

5. Intend that anyone suffering will unconsciously feel this love [because they will] and that it will uplift them, so that, if only for a moment, they may feel hope. This is the part that matters most in contributing to the collective. You’re not trying to fix anything. You’re not trying to solve anyone’s pain in particular. You’re simply offering a moment of unexplainable lightness to someone who might desperately need it — a stranger who, for one inexplicable second, feels like maybe things will be okay.

6. Bring your energy back to your room. Come back gently. Feel your body, the chair, the room around you. Take a few deep breaths.

That’s it. Five to fifteen minutes-ish, give or take.

And then make your next choice…GUILT-FREE

1. Watch Netflix

2. Doom scroll

3. Eat snacks

4. All of the above

5. Or maybe take a walk, read a book, talk to your family, etc.

Why This Isn’t as Floofy as It Sounds

You don’t have to believe in energy fields or mysticism for this practice to be worth doing. Even stripped of any metaphysical claim, something real happens when you do this:

• Your own nervous system shifts. Recalling love and picturing generosity activates a completely different physiological state than scrolling headlines. You’re not just visualizing calm, you’re manufacturing it in the moment.

• You practice choosing where your attention goes, instead of letting an algorithm choose for you and dictate how you’re going to feel for the evening. That’s a muscle, and like any muscle, it strengthens with use.

• You end your day having done something loving, taken an action for peace, rather than having only consumed, complained, or compared all day. There’s a simple satisfaction in that, regardless of what you believe about whether the love “reaches” anyone else.

If you do believe consciousness and intention ripple outward in ways we don’t fully understand — even better. Either way, you lose nothing by trying it, and if the outcome is “I felt calmer for fifteen minutes.” That’s a pretty good deal.

The Real Point

We treat our evenings as if the only choice available is how we numb out — Netflix, scrolling, snacks, or some combination of all three.

But there’s a limitless energy source available to every single one of us, 24 hours a day, that most of us never think to switch on. Because we forget it’s there. Because we haven’t trained ourselves to remember!

Give yourself and the world 5-15 minutes of uplifting energy.

Choose consciousness. Be the beacon. Radiate love.

Then go watch your show. You’ve earned it.

XO,
LMW

P.S. I am teaching Forest Reiki® live again in September. I have new information about healing, the future, why our old manifestation practices have stopped working and what works now, and I’ll be talking about The Decension Process.

Check it out here: and note that you have the option to certify and start making money with this modality - several of my students have made it a powerful revenue stream!

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Teaching

We made it to the last day. Through missed days for some of you and daily unsubscribes from my list for me, here we are still standing together.

Completing 30 days doesn’t make you more spiritual or more evolved or more deserving of what your heart’s been pointing toward.

Thirty days ago you started a practice to stop figuring it out. To spend more of your life in the frequency of the heart and less of it in the override. To learn what the channel feels like when it’s open, what the heart’s language sounds like when you stop talking long enough to hear it, what trust feels like as a muscle rather than a mood, what the writing and the selling and the showing up feel like when they’re led from the inside instead of driven from fear.

You have learned those things. They’re in your body now, not just your head. Your hands know where to go. Your breath knows how to drop. Your heart knows you’ve been listening, and something in the way it communicates with you has shifted because of it.

This is not the end of the practice. This is the end of the container. The container held the practice long enough for it to become yours — and now it is. You don’t need the 30 days anymore. You need the two hands, the breath, the willingness to stop figuring it out for long enough to feel what you already know.

That’s always available. In the middle of a difficult meeting. Before you hit send on the scary email. In the gap between what was and what’s coming. On the days when the doing is grinding and you can’t feel the channel at all. The practice is portable. It goes wherever you go. It has always been wherever you are.

You already know the way home. Hand on heart, hand on belly. That’s the whole enchilada plate.

Here, I made you a video:

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

What do I want to say to myself on Day 1 of the rest of my heart-led life — one true thing from the heart to the heart about who I’ve become in these 30 days and what I’m carrying forward?

Write it as a love letter. To yourself. Slow down. Mean every word.

XOXOXOXO,
LMW

P.S. The container is complete. The practice is yours. Hand on heart, hand on belly — you know the way home now. You always did. You just needed 30 days to remember it.

Thank you for being here. I mean that completely. ❤️

Teaching

Twenty-nine days. The day before the last one.

You’ve done something unusual this month. In the middle of a life that had every reason to keep running at its usual pace — the inbox, the to-do list, the obligations, the scrolling, the background anxiety that most of us have stopped even noticing because it’s been the weather for so long — you stopped, daily, to do something that probably looked like nothing from the outside. You put your hands on your heart and your belly and you breathed, and you practiced something that doesn’t have an immediate measurable return.

The life that practice is building is not finished. It won’t be finished after tomorrow either. This isn’t a 30-day transformation — it’s 30 days of learning a way of moving through a whole life, which will take the rest of your whole life to fully live into. And that’s not a failure of the container. That’s the honest nature of any practice worth building.

But something is different than it was 29 days ago. I’d stake a lot on that. The way you notice the override might be sharper. The way you feel the heart’s language might be more fluent. The small trusts might come a little more readily. The way you show up to the writing or the selling or the hard work or the people you love might have a different quality — something a little more alive, a little less performed, a little more from the inside.

That’s the life being built. Thread by thread. Day by day. Hand on heart, hand on belly, before the day begins.

Today we rest in the almost-done and feel what’s been built.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. Twenty-nine days of coming home to this. Feel the accumulated weight of all those returns.

Guided Meditation (9–10 minutes)

Hands in place. Take longer than usual to settle today. Let the weight of the month be fully present — not as a burden, as a real thing you’ve been carrying and building simultaneously.

Let the 29 days move through you. Not to remember each one, not to catalogue or evaluate — just to let the whole of it be felt at once, the way you’d step back from something you’ve been close to and finally see its full shape.

What is the shape of this month? What did it ask of you? Where did you show up when you didn’t want to? Where did you find the heart waiting when you hadn’t expected it?

Now ask: What is actually different about how I move through my life right now, compared to the person who started this on Day 1?

Let the answer be whatever size it is. Don’t make it smaller than it is to seem appropriately humble, and don’t make it larger than it is to justify the investment. Just the true size. The true shape. The actual thing that’s shifted.

Stay with that. Breathe into it. Let it be real, and let it matter, for the full length of this practice today.

Take a slow, full breath. Hold it at the top. Release it all the way to the end.

Tomorrow is the last day. You made it to the almost-end. That’s not nothing. That’s almost everything.

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

What is my body holding now? What else needs to be heard and witnessed now? What else is here?

Write it slowly. Let it be true.

XO,
LMW

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Teaching

Heart-led doing is not a system for making everything feel easy. I want to be honest (as usual) about that, because there’s a version of this teaching that implies if you just stay connected to your heart, the resistance will dissolve and the work will flow and everything will feel meaningful and alive. And sometimes that’s true (rarely). But sometimes the work is genuinely hard even when you’re fully connected, and if you’ve been told otherwise, you’ll interpret the difficulty as a sign that you’re doing it wrong.

You’re not doing it wrong. Hard is just part of doing. Businesses are built of blood, sweat, and tears, not magical thinking and vision boards alone.

The writing session where nothing comes. The launch that lands flat. The conversation you led with full presence still went sideways. The discipline practice you set up from the heart that still requires you to show up on the days you don’t want to. The creative project that’s been flowing beautifully for three weeks yet this week it feels like moving through wet concrete.

What changes when you’re doing hard things from the heart rather than the head is not whether they’re hard. It’s what you make the difficulty mean. The head, under pressure, defaults to: this is proof it’s not working, proof I’m not capable, proof I should have stayed safe. It turns difficulty into evidence of failure and then argues for quitting or dramatically overhauling everything.

The heart, under pressure, doesn’t do that. The heart says: this is hard right now. That’s not a verdict. It’s simply a weather report. Stay connected. Keep going at the pace that’s actually sustainable. Let the difficulty be difficulty without making it mean everything and telling stories that make it feel worse.

That’s not a small thing. That’s actually the whole game — staying connected to the heart’s knowing even when the doing is grinding, and not letting the grind override the knowing.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. Especially on the hard days. Especially then.

Guided Meditation (5 minutes)

Hands in place. Breathe. Let yourself arrive honestly today — if it’s been a hard week, let it be a hard week in here. No performing; ever.

Bring to mind something that’s been hard in the doing lately. Where the work has been grinding, where the progress has felt invisible, where the discipline has required more than it usually does.

Feel the difficulty honestly. The tiredness, maybe. The frustration. The low-grade discouragement that you’ve been pushing through but that’s been there.

Now ask your heart what it has to say about this difficulty. Not what you should do differently, not how to fix it, not the strategy for getting out of the grind faster. What does the heart say about being here, in this hard place, right now?

Let the answer be what it is. It might be: keep going, this is the middle, not the end. It might be: rest, you’ve been pushing past sustainable for too long. It might be something much simpler — just a quality of warmth, of company, of not being alone in the difficulty.

Let whatever comes be enough. The heart doesn’t always solve the hard thing. But it is always present inside it with you, and sometimes that is genuinely everything.

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

Now where in the body live the parts that do NOT want what you're building? They don’t want the money, the love, the success. Where do they live in the body? Find the charge and start tracking it while you write their words, fears, and dreads down on paper.

XO,
LMW

P.S. The heart doesn’t promise easy. It promises company. It promises a way of being inside the difficulty that doesn’t make the difficulty worse than it already is. Some days that’s everything.

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Teaching

There’s a version of showing up for people that looks like presence and isn’t. It’s attentive, reliable, responsive; all the right external markers of someone who’s there. But there’s a thin sheet of glass over it. A slight separation. You’re going through the motions of connection while a significant portion of you is somewhere else. You’re lost in your head, in your worry, in your own unprocessed stuff, in the override that never really stops running even when you’re sitting across from someone you love.

You’re there, sure, but absent in the most important ways.

People feel that glass. They might not be able to name it. They might not even consciously notice that 80% of you isn’t listening. But they feel it, in the way the conversation stays slightly surface, in the way something in them doesn’t fully open either, in the way you finish the interaction and both of you are slightly less nourished than you could have been.

Heart-first showing up for people is different. It’s not the same as having no boundaries, or having no inner life of your own, or making yourself entirely available to everyone who wants a piece of you. It’s not an indiscriminate merger. It’s presence. P-R-E-S-E-N-C-E. It’s the act of actually arriving at the person in front of you — leaving Mind at the door, setting down whatever you were in the middle of thinking about yourself, and genuinely turning toward them with your whole connected self.

• No phone.

• No thinking about what you’re going to say in response to what they’re saying.

• No watching TV on the wall behind their head.

This is harder than it sounds and more radical than it looks. Most of us are so used to partial presence that full presence feels almost too intimate. Too much. Too real. But it’s what people actually hunger for, are starving for, underneath all the surface exchanges.

It is a rare gift to be genuinely met by someone who is actually there, fully embodied, fully listening. This is holding space, and it’s more vital than we realize to give this to each other.

Today we practice what it feels like to arrive at another person the way we’ve been arriving at ourselves in this practice — fully, warmly, hands energetically open.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. Get connected first and think of someone. Then turn toward the person in your mind.

Guided Meditation (5 minutes)

Hands in place. Breathe. Take as long as you need here.

Bring to mind one person in your life — someone you want to show up for more fully. A partner, a friend, a client, a child, a parent. Someone with whom there’s been separation lately, or someone you simply want to meet more completely than your default allows.

Feel your genuine care for them. Let it be real and present in your chest under your hand. If a person is too hard, think of your favorite animal because our pets need presence as well.

Now imagine arriving to them the way you’ve been arriving to your own heart this month. With this quality of attention. This quality of depth and warmth. Hands off the to-do list, head out of the thinking, genuinely here.

Feel what changes in your body when you imagine offering that quality of presence to someone else. What opens? What softens? What might be possible in that conversation or that relationship that isn’t possible through the glass?

Stay here a few moments. Imagine the energy between you radiates in 360 degrees. Imagine the light between you glows with presence, with Spirit, if you like.

What happens in your heart? In theirs? What do they want you to know? What is their face saying?

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

Write a letter to this person. Let it flow from your body, from your heart, from the light between you. Write as long as you like and then burn it or shred it.

XO,
LMW

P.S. BONUS: repeat this process with someone you are in conflict with. Also note that it is rarely appropriate to send letters like these to the person. Let this be a practice you hold as sacred and silent. If you need help with this process, book a Clarity Session or an Unfinished Business Session (for crossed-over loved ones)

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Teaching

We need to talk about the body as the primary source of this life. No body - no life here on Planet Earth. Not talking about the body as the thing you’re trying to change or improve or discipline into some culturally dictated shape, but as the thing you actually live in 24/7. The thing that has been trying to tell you something every single day of this practice, every time you put your hands on your heart and your belly and felt what was actually true underneath the noise.

A lot of us have a complicated relationship with moving and feeding our bodies. Not because we’re lazy, I don’t believe in lazy, not really — but because we’ve turned physical practice into another arena for the Dream Smashing Hammer to play out. Another place where we’re not doing enough, not consistent enough, not starting early enough or working hard enough or looking the right way at the end of it. Another place where an external standard runs the show while our actual body’s signals get overridden.

What does heart-first movement even look like? It looks like asking your body what it actually needs before you default to whatever the plan says. Some days that’s hard and sweaty and physically demanding, because the body genuinely wants to be pushed and the heart endorses it. Some days it’s a slow walk to a sit spot among the trees because the nervous system has been running hot all week and what’s actually needed is deceleration, not more output. Some days it’s dancing in the kitchen because something in you needs joy in your muscles more than it needs a workout.

No movement is the wrong answer if you got there by actually asking. All of them are the wrong answer if you got there by ignoring the body and defaulting to the plan laid out by some Goop-headed influencer, or by ignoring the body and giving up on the plan because the override convinced you you’d already failed.

The body is not a project. It’s the sacred vessel the whole practice lives inside. It truly is a temple, so treat it accordingly.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. Ask the body what it needs today before you decide what you’re going to do with it.

Guided Meditation (5 minutes)

Hands in place. Breathe deep and slow, all the way into the belly — really let the Hips Cauldron fill with light and energy. It might look red, orange, or no color at all.

Bring your awareness fully into your physical body and connect your feet to the energy of the Earth. Sense the insides of your legs and arms not as a mental concept — as a felt reality. Your feet on the floor. The weight of your hands on your chest and belly. The temperature of the air as it enters your nose. The specific quality of aliveness in your body right now, today, in this moment.

Ask your body directly: What do you need today?

Stay with the question long enough to feel an answer that comes from below the neck, generally felt anywhere from the bottom of the jaw to the hips. We are not defaulting to the latest health trend, not to the previous routine, not to the external voice from others telling you what you should be doing. What does this body, today, actually want?

Let whatever comes arrive without judgment. If it’s rest, let it be rest. If it’s movement, feel which kind — the body is usually specific if you let it be. If it’s water, more sleep, sunshine, stillness — let it be that.

It might show as a felt symbol, the flash of a memory, or a light or heavy feeling. Give it time and don’t interpret it yet. A memory of picking blueberries might not be that Body wants to eat blueberries today; it might mean calling whoever you were with that day, or recreating the feeling of the moment, such as ease, no rush, absorbing the sun, etc.

Now feel what it would be like to actually give it what it’s asking for. Not as indulgence. As respect for the vessel the whole practice lives inside.

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

Today’s prompt is reversed. Write about what you just experienced and then switch to answering one or all of the questions below:

What has my body been asking for that I’ve been overriding, postponing, or negotiating away as too time-consuming or too expensive? Can I give it a little of that within my budget? What would it look like to lead with what Body actually needs this week — and what am I afraid would happen if I did? What would life be like if my body’s true needs became my top priority?

XO,
LMW

Teaching

Selling is where a lot of otherwise heart-led people completely abandon the channel and go straight back to the override with a dash of freak-out. Because selling feels like the one place where being human and connected is a liability, where you need to be strategic and persuasive and tactical and slightly separate from your actual feelings about the thing, because if you care too much and it doesn’t sell, the loss is too much to bear. I mean, disappointment is one of the worst feelings aside from shame.

So we either perform confidence we don’t feel — showing up bright and certain and convincing in a way that’s completely disconnected from our actual body, our actual nervous system, our actual relationship with what we’re offering — or we shrink. We soften the ask, we hint, mumble, discount the price without being asked. We bury the offer in so many qualifications and “only if it feels right for you”s that the person on the other side can’t feel the invitation, let alone respond to it.

Both of those are head-led selling. One is performing. One is hiding. Neither is what actually moves people. People want leadership, not floppiness.

That’s what heart-first selling is. Not a technique. Not a script from Zig Whats-his-chops. It’s showing up to the offer already connected to the work, to the person in front of you, to the reason any of it matters, and letting that connection do what persuasion never quite can.

Selling from the heart is just being real about something you actually care about, with another person who genuinely needs it. That’s it. That’s the whole method.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. Connect to the work before you talk about it. Connect to the person before you make the offer.

Guided Meditation (5 minutes)

Hands in place. Breathe.

Bring to mind your work. Imagine the thing you offer, the service, the creation, the container, whatever it is you’re here to give. Let it be present with you, as something alive, something you genuinely believe in, something that has actually mattered to real people.

Feel what it’s like when the work lands, when you see their eyes light up with understanding or cry in release of ancient pain. When someone writes to tell you the session or the thing really changed something. When you’re in the room — or on the call — and you can feel it moving through the energy and you know, without knowing how you know, that you’re embodying your life purpose. Let that quality of feeling be present in your body right now, under your hands.

That — this — this goddamn it! This presence is what you’re bringing to the selling. Not a pitch or fake smile or script those shady ass coaches gave you. This.

Now bring to mind the person you’re selling to. Not a demographic or, please God, not an ideal client avatar. A real person, or the felt sense of a real person, who you know you can help transform. Feel your care for them. Feel your genuine hope that they’ll say yes, not for your numbers (although bills do have to paid!), but because you know what it would give them.

Stay in that. The ask is an act of care, a sacred mission, when it comes from here. Let it be that and that alone.

Consider:

Where has my selling been coming from fear, performance, or hiding rather than from genuine heart-connection to the work and the person? What would change about how I offer things if I arrived to every ask already connected body-mind-soul?

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

Where is my body reacting to the idea of selling? Where is the flutter or tension? What is my body deeply afraid will happen if we sell to others? What beliefs are triggering the sensation(s)?

XO,
LMW

P.S. Selling from the heart is effective because it’s mutual. It’s actually the most magical experience because it’s real, and people can feel the difference between real and performed even from thousands of miles away.

Teaching

Writing is one of the places the override shows up most viciously. Because writing requires you to say something true, in public, in your own voice, and then leave it there for all to see, undefended, available for disagreement, permanently on the record. That’s genuinely vulnerable; it’s a wonder any of us produce anything that the public can see. And so Mind and the Safety-Seeking Self step in to manage the vulnerability, and what comes out is something careful and considered and thoroughly over-thought and somehow, even if it’s technically correct and well-structured, completely devoid of the thing that makes writing actually reach someone - you know, Heart.

What makes writing reach someone is not craft, though craft matters. It’s not strategy, though strategy has its place, of course. What creates impact is the felt sense of a real human being on the other side of the words. People want to know it was someone who meant what they said, who wrote it because it was true rather than because it was calculated to “get” clients or subscriptions, who let something through that they could have kept safe and guarded and private.

That’s what writing from the heart is. It’s letting something through. Not performing rawness because trauma dumping is repellent. Actual letting through, but writing from the scar, not the bleeding wound. Writing the sentence your head immediately wants to soften, delete, or qualify as harmless, and leaving it there. Writing what the heart actually has to say, rather than what the head has decided is appropriate, professional, and safe.

I’ve watched people’s writing transform when they start here; hands on heart, body present, connected to the Divine before they type a word. The content doesn’t change dramatically; I mean, words are words. The voice does though. Something sparkles. Presence arrives in the writing that was missing before. It’s not magic; it’s Creative Life-Force energy. It’s just the difference between a heart-led human and a Mind-led one

Start here today. Before the writing. Then write from the body’s voice.

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The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. Feel the warmth. Imagine light gathering in your hands and being absorbed by your body.

Guided Meditation (5 minutes)

Hands in place. Breathe and breathe and breathe.

Think about something you need to write — or something you want to write. A piece of content, an email, a post, a page of a book, a proposal. Let it be present with you here.

Now ask your heart: What do I actually want to say about this? Not what’s strategic or safe, not what the imagined audience will approve of — what do I actually want to say? If no one was listening, what would I say?

Stay with that. Let what surfaces be a little more true than what you usually permit yourself on the page. Notice if anything rises that your head immediately wants to veto or justify. Notice the exact phrasing that feels most alive, most real, most you — the one that’s a little scary to write.

That’s the sentence to write first, just here in your imagination. You get to say the thing you can’t imagine saying outside yourself first. You get to say exactly what you want using the exact words you want.

Feel the freedom of complete honesty.
Feel the part of you shouting for joy.
Feel the part of you flinching away in fear of “getting in trouble.”

Breathe into all the parts. Take your time and rest in your heart for a few more moments, keeping the warmth alive and the connection open. Then when you’re ready, let this settle and carry it directly into the writing itself — don’t let the Dream Smashing Hammer move in first and shatter everything.

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes - write from the body)

What have I been holding in my body that interferes in writing what my heart actually wants to say? A memory? A fear? An anticipated judgement? Judgement from whom? What’s the sentence I keep softening, deleting, or over-explaining — and where is the tension in my body? What would it do for my body to speak it plainly?

XO,
LMW

Teaching

I’ve seen people misunderstand this kind of practice and end up using it to spiritually bypass the actual work of their lives.

The heart does not want to and never will lead us to live internally and ignore the external.

The doing doesn’t go away.

The writing still has to happen. The emails, the client calls, the marketing, the proposals, the awkward conversations, the early mornings, the discipline. If you have a body you want to feel good in, you still have to move it. If you have a business, you still have to show up for it. If you have relationships, you still have to tend to them even when you’re tired, and it's inconvenient. None of that evaporates because you’ve been spending 30 days opening your heart.

What changes is what leads. What changes is the quality of the energy you bring to the doing — whether you’re arriving at the work as a head trying to force an outcome, braced against the difficulty, running on sugar and caffeine and the barely-submerged anxiety that if you stop pushing for even a moment the whole thing will fall apart. Or whether you’re arriving as a heart that is connected, that knows what it’s doing and why it’s doing it, that brings full presence to the work instead of just grinding.

The difference is not in the task list. It’s in the quality of deep-breathing you bring to each item on it. And that difference — over time, over months and years of heart-led doing rather than fear-led pushing — creates outcomes that feel different, resonate differently, land for people differently, and sustain you rather than deplete you.

This week is about thriving! It’s about learning to bring hands-on-heart into the middle of the ordinary, difficult, unglamorous work of your actual life. Not as a magical shortcut or spiritual bypass but as a genuinely different way of moving through life and interacting with others.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. Connect to the Divine first. Before you start the workout. Before you pick up the phone. This week, the anchor comes first. DO this before you even get out of bed. This simple movement, your body knows it as the signal for presence, and you can use it anytime, anywhere.

Guided Meditation (5 minutes)

Hands in place. Breathe full and slow.

Bring to mind your work — whatever it is. The creative work, the business, the practice, the thing you’re building. Let it be present with you in this meditation, not as a pressure or a task, but as something alive that you’re in relationship with.

Now feel the quality of how you usually arrive at it. What’s the typical energy when you sit down, when you start? Is there a tightening? A bracing? A low hum of have to underneath everything? A sense of performing toward some external measure you’ve never quite reached?

Don’t judge it. Just feel it honestly.

Now breathe into your heart and ask: What would it feel like to bring this connected, open, heart-led version of me to this work?

Let the contrast land. You don’t have to have the answer yet — just feel the difference in quality between the two ways of arriving. One of them depletes you. One of them has something to give.

That second one is what this week is for. Let’s practice finding it, every day, in the middle of the actual doing.

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

Where in my body does my work or daily doing live? Where am I holding fear, force, or have-to? What are my body and heart asking to be different here?

Write from your body, not Mind. Feel into the sensations of each sentence before you write it.

XO,
LMW

P.S. Heart-led doing is not slower or less productive than fear-led doing. It’s just built differently — from the inside out, instead of from the outside in. And what’s built from the inside out tends to go easier, dissolve conflicts and problems faster, and lead to lower blood pressure!

Teaching

Three weeks in. And this one — this week — was the one that asked the most of you in terms of trust and then taking action.

Noticing the override was uncomfortable but internal, mostly awareness-building work. Opening the channel was tender, sometimes moving, required vulnerability and even more awareness. This week, you were asked to actually choose the channel and take action. To stop waiting for proof that comes after the step rather than before it. To start small, to feel the difference between fear’s discomfort and the heart’s rightness, to hear the soft clear guidance you’d been waving off, to stay in the gap without it meaning you’d gotten everything wrong.

That’s a lot. Even if this week felt unremarkable from the outside, even if you didn’t take any big dramatic leaps, didn’t make any life-altering decisions, didn’t have a moment that looked like transformation, something shifted; I can promise you that.

Trust is being built, thread by thread, in the smallest choices throughout this series. The small trust you took on Day 18. The thing you let yourself know on Day 17, even if you weren’t ready to act on it. The gap you sat inside on Day 21 without running.

That’s the work which is so simple we want to ignore it and go buy something complicated. It compounds invisibly. And then one day you look back and realize you’re standing somewhere completely different than where you started, and you can trace the path, breadcrumb by breadcrumb, back to the small trusts you took in the middle of the third week of a daily practice nobody saw you doing.

Today we acknowledge what you’ve trusted. Not perfectly. Not completely. Just: what moved in you this week, however quietly?

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. Three weeks of coming back to this. Feel how much more natural it is than it was on day one. Notice it’s easier to tune into what’s truly present.

Guided Meditation (5–10 minutes)

Hands in place. Breathe full and slow. Open your feet to the earth. Open your crown to the sky.

Let the week pass through you, through the central channel; let it all flow. The proof problem, the small trust you took or considered, the uncomfortable direction, the soft but clear knowing you almost dismissed, the gap. Don’t hold any of it tightly. Let it move through like water, like a river of light.

Now ask: Where did I trust something that came through my heart this week, even slightly? Even imperfectly? Did I take an action? What happened?

Let the answer be whatever size it is. A moment of pause before you whacked your joy with the Dream-Smashing Hammer took over. A small yes taken before the head could argue it away. A piece of true knowing you let yourself acknowledge, even if you didn’t act on it yet. Give yourself a gold star.

Feel the quality of that acknowledgment. The specific texture of having trusted, even once, even a little. That texture is what you’re building toward. That’s the feeling the practice is accumulating toward. Remember it.

Now — looking ahead to next week, where we bring the heart even more into the doing, into the uncomfortable practical realities of the life you’re building — ask: What would it look like to carry this week’s trust into every decision?

What would it be like to ask how does this make ME feel rather than what will so-and-so think?

Let the answer come without pressure. Just a rising up into your conscious awareness.

Take a full breath. Hold it a moment. Release it all the way to the end. Let your hands rest on your lap for a few minutes.

Somatic Journaling Prompt

Where does trust in myself live in my body? When I say I will trust my heart to lead me, where do I feel tension activate?

Write it down like you’re telling a friend. Write teh sensations coming from the body. Ask the tension what it’s worried about; what does it need?

XO,
LMW

P.S. If you are still here, thank you. It’s been quite a month for unsubs, so I just want you to know that I appreciate your presence. XOXO!

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Teaching

There is a place in every heart-led journey where the old thing has ended and the new thing hasn’t arrived yet. Where you’ve said yes to the direction, you’ve taken the first step, and then you’re standing in — nothing. Not the before, not the after. The gap. The in-between. The this-sucks-carnival.

The gap is the most spiritually disorienting place I know. It looks like failure from the outside. It feels like a mistake from the inside. The head uses the gap as its strongest evidence yet that you should never have trusted, that you got it wrong, that this is what happens when you let the heart lead instead of sticking to what was safe and provable.

The gap is not a mistake. The gap is the bridge between old you and new you. Mind-led and heart-led.

Every significant transition has one. I’m in one right now since adding fasting support to my suite of services and since exiting Facebook and picking up Instagram.

The old job has ended, the new one isn’t signed yet. The relationship is clearly over, but the next chapter of your life hasn’t revealed itself. You said yes to the creative project, you quit the thing that was in the way, and now you’re standing in a terrifying expanse of open space with no guarantee that what you were promised through the channel is actually coming. It just feels awful even when you understand that it’s the way of living creatively.

The gap requires a different kind of trust than the initial yes. The initial yes is exciting; usually there’s energy in the decision, even if it’s scary. And Mind just loves a decision. The gap has no energy because it’s a pause. The gap is just waiting and not knowing, sustained over time, without the adrenaline of the leap to carry you. This is where trust becomes a daily practice rather than a single moment of courage.

You cannot think your way through the gap, you can’t rush it, or prod it, or demand it be different. You can only stay connected to the heart that led you here, and trust that the same connection that showed you the direction knows how to show you the next step too, when it’s time.

The seed is planted and has sprouted, but we can’t see the leaves above the surface yet. So annoying.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. The channel is open in the gap too — especially in the gap.

Guided Meditation (for added power, try recording one of these in your voice)

Hands in place. Breathe. Make space for silence, for the still small voice.

If you’re in a gap right now — any kind, any size — bring it to mind. If you’re not in one, bring to mind the last time you were. The in-between-place. The not-yet. The straddling worlds spot.

Feel what that place actually feels like in your body. The uncertainty in the chest. Maybe a tightness in the throat. Maybe a low-grade hum of anxiety in the belly that’s been there for weeks. You might feel it as a flutter in your solar plexus. You might catch a whiff of fear.

Let it be there. Don’t try to resolve it in this meditation. The gap doesn’t close because you meditated hard enough. But it becomes bearable — genuinely bearable, not white-knuckle bearable — when you stay connected to the heart that led you into it.

Dive into the sensations. Track the charge. Label the flutter, the jitters, and notice where it moves next, and next, and next until it dissipates. Most of us stop tracking far too soon because we feel like there are ants in our pants.

Stay. Breathe. Feel.

Bring your attention to the warmth under your heart hand. Imagine your palm fills with light and your heart sponges it up.

Bring your attention to the warmth under your belly hand. Imagine your palm fills with light and your whole abdomen sponges it up.

Activate the glowing warmth of pure love and radical acceptance.

The channel is open even in the discomfort. The connection that spoke to you before you took the step is still speaking, even in the silence of the gap. It might be quieter right now. That’s not abandonment; it really isn’t. It’s the deep quiet of the in-between-place, which has its own particular kind of weighty spaciousness if you stop filling it with panic long enough to feel it.

Stay open. Stay here. Let whatever comes be enough for today.

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

Ask your heart: What do I need to know about where I am right now? Where am I, who am I, in between what is going and what’s coming? Do I need to grieve? Do I need to celebrate?

XO,
LMW

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Teaching

Yesterday we sat with the heart leading somewhere uncomfortable. Today, the flip side: learning to recognize the voice of the heart when it sounds nothing like fear at all, when it comes in easy, quiet, and almost too simple to take seriously, so we do our best to mess that right up.

Because here’s the other thing the Dream Smashing Hammer does: it dismisses. Not just delays, not just argues, it whips out contempt, it rolls its eyes. The heart surfaces something clear and true, and the head goes, "That can’t be it. That’s way too easy." It’s too simple. Too obvious. Too much like what you already wanted, which means it’s probably just wishful thinking or some scam you’re running on yourself, but the real scam is the dismissal. “Real guidance is supposed to be harder to get than this,” says Mind, who has no idea what it's talking about.

And so the heart speaks clearly, in plain language, in broad daylight, and we wave it off. In the Human Design world, the bulk of my coaching is about helping people hear that first response (their Authority) and actually listen to it.

This waving away, also called the Upper Limit or hitting your Happiness Threshold, is a particular trap for people who are smart, self-aware, and have done a lot of their own work. Because you know about wishful thinking, you can easily trample the heart. Because being “too happy” may feel dangerous to your nervous sytem, it’s safer to blind yourself to the truth.

You’re intelligent and you know about projection and confirmation bias and the ways the mind constructs what it wants to see. And that knowledge, which is genuinely useful, becomes a weapon against your own heart’s clearest signals if you’re not careful. You can self-awareness yourself right out of trusting anything that comes easily. Basically, if you were dumb as a abg ‘o hammers, this stuff wouldn’t be so hard to put into practice.

But here’s the thing I’ve learned over the years of helping myself and others: the heart’s truest guidance is most often not dramatic. It doesn’t always arrive as a vision, a burning bush certainty, or an undeniable sign. Sometimes it’s just a quiet, steady knowing. A lack of resistance. A sense of this is simply the right direction, nothing more to add. It’s boring, almost. It doesn’t even make a very good story.

The head wants a dramatic sign so it can really trust and that’s just looking for a guarentee. The heart has been saying the plain, true thing all along, waiting for you to stop looking past it for something more complicated.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. Listen today for what’s simple and clear, not just what’s loud.

Guided Meditation (5 minutes)

Hands in place. Breathe slow and low.

Let today’s meditation be quieter than the others. Softer. Less searching.

Ask your heart, simply: What do I already know that I keep waving off because it came too easily?

And then — here’s the important part — trust the first thing that comes. Before your head can decide it’s too simple, too obvious, too much like what you already wanted. Before the editorial process kicks in and decides the answer isn’t sophisticated enough to count.

Notice it. Feel it. Let it just be there, plain and clear.

Now notice what the head immediately does with it. Does it dismiss it? Does it look for a catch? Does it immediately generate reasons why that can’t really be the answer?

Just observe the dismissal happening, without being run by it. You know what the heart said. The head’s editorial process is just weather.

Stay here. Breathing into the plain, clear, quiet knowing.

Somatic Journaling Prompt

What has the heart been saying clearly and simply that I keep dismissing? Which path is so simple and easy that I won’t allow myself to believe it? Where am I afraid of easy and easy feels like happy and happy feels like danger?

XO,
LMW

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Teaching

Let me be upfront, because the spiritual world sometimes glosses over this and I think that’s a disservice: the heart doesn’t always lead somewhere easy. Mind’s definition of success and the Heart and Soul’s can really vary widely.

Here’s an example. I left my great job and lovely home in Ft. Collins, CO for a spur-of-the-moment job in Kingman, AZ. I had never been there, didn’t know a thing about it other than that it had good mountain biking and was closer to my dad.

All because my heart said, GO.

I applied for a therapist job, was interviewed the next day, hired the day after, and pulled into my new home (which I rented online!) exactly 30 days later. That home turned out to be in the WORST area. I knew it was bad when my new supervisor asked where I had rented a house and I said, “Oh, over where all the streets are named after birds,” and her face fell.

“Birdland?!” Her eyes were wide.

Then my face fell…

SWAT teams and drama were a weekly thing there, but my little house and the houses directly around it were always peaceful.

I was incredibly lonely there. So I wrote my first book, crocheted, and cried a lot. And I was back in my old job and back in Ft. Collins, four months later.

We could call that a failure, and the people I inconvenienced certainly might, but I don’t.

Sometimes intuition leads toward the conversation you’ve been dreading for six months. My heart threw me right off a fucking cliff, and in many ways I flew; I’ll always value the experience.

Heart may point us…

• Toward ending something that still has real good in it but has run its course.

• Toward the creative project that terrifies you because it’s the most true thing you’ve ever tried to make.

• Toward saying no to something that looks perfectly good on paper — a good opportunity, a nice person, a reasonable offer — because the heart knows it’s not yours and the head can’t make a strong enough case for that knowing.

Sometimes the heart leads toward grief.

• Toward the rage you need to feel before you can move past it.

• Toward slowing down when everything in your external world is demanding hustle.

• Toward radical honesty in a friendship that’s been comfortable but not real.

This is where many people mistake the heart’s guidance for fear’s voice, because both can lead to incredible discomfort and upheaval. The difference is in the quality of the signal.

Fear leads toward discomfort in a contracted, anxious, bracing way — the kind that makes you feel smaller and more constricted. Underneath fear is the desire for safety, to be right, to be good, or to be heard.

The heart leads toward discomfort, with a sense of something opening beneath the fear and the Soul’s knowing that from this pain will come power and healing. Heart’s rightness coexists with the difficult feeling. An expansion beneath the contraction.

You’re learning to tell the difference. So let’s practice.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. Ask the heart where it’s pointing, even if the direction is uncomfortable.

Guided Meditation (5 minutes)

Hands in place. Breathe into both centers, slow and full.

Let yourself get genuinely quiet — more so than usual today, because what we’re doing requires a little more stillness to hear clearly.

Bring to mind something your heart pointed you toward that you avoided because it was uncomfortable. It required something of you that your nervous system would rather not have been asked for at the time.

Review and feel the discomfort first, honestly. Let it be in your body without trying to resolve it. Is it a tightening? A heaviness? A kind of dread or weariness?

Now, underneath that, were you aware of feeling anything else? Any quality beneath the discomfort that had a different texture? A settledness. A rightness. A sense that this was true even though it’s hard.

That’s the heart’s signal underneath the difficulty. That coexistence — discomfort and rightness together, fear and knowing at the same time — is often what trusting the heart actually feels like. It’s not comfortable. It’s clear, and you know without knowing how you know.

Stay with that for a few breaths. How did it turn out? Can it be defined as successful? How do you define success anyway?

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

Where is the heart pointing that feels uncomfortable in present-day life, and can I detect any rightness underneath the discomfort? What’s the difference between this being hard because it’s wrong, and hard because it’s true? What does Heart want to say?

XO,
LMW

Teaching

We tend to think of trust as something you either have or you don’t. Like a personality trait you were born with or missed out on. The fearless ones trust. The careful ones wait. And if you’re a careful one, you just have to live with the fact that the trusting comes harder.

That’s not how it works. Trust between you and your body, your heart, is a muscle. And like every muscle, it gets built through use, preferably daily, through repeated, incremental loading. You don’t walk into a gym on day one and lift the heaviest thing in the room. You start where you are. You build the capacity over time. And what felt heavy three months ago no longer feels heavy, not because it got lighter, but because you got stronger.

The same goes for trusting what comes through your heart. If you’ve spent years defaulting to the override — to the head’s demand for evidence, to other people’s opinions, to “just make one more pro & con list” — then starting with the biggest decision of your life is not where the practice begins. That’s like starting your training with the heaviest weight. You’ll drop it, you’ll decide you’re not built for this, and you’ll go home.

Small trusts first. The heart says, reach out to that person you’ve been thinking about — and you do it before you can talk yourself out of it. The heart says, stop, rest, the work can wait — and you actually stop. The heart says, take the long way home, you need the trees — and you trust that enough to take the long way home.

These feel inconsequential. They’re not. Every small trust is a deposit in the account. Every time you choose the heart’s signal over the head’s argument, even about something tiny, the muscle grows. And the next trust comes a little more readily. And the next one. Until one day the bigger thing comes, the one that matters enormously, and you realize you’ve been training for it all along.

Start small. Start today.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. What’s the smallest trust the heart is offering you today?

Guided Meditation (5 minutes)

Hands in place. Breathe. On every exhale, ask your body to relax more deeply.

Let everything big fall away today. All the large undecided things, the significant unknowns, the areas where trust feels massive and high-stakes. Just set them down for this practice.

Drop your awareness deep into the earth; imagine you’re a feather drifting down and coming to rest in a place of stillness.

Ask your heart, very simply: What small thing are you pointing toward today?

It might be something on your to-do list that needs to be done in a different order than your head planned. A conversation you’ve been avoiding that needs to happen — not the big confrontation, just a true thing said simply. A creative urge toward something that has no obvious reason or, even worse, monetization potential. A need your body has been signaling that you’ve been overriding (this is most common!). A small yes, please. A small no, thank you.

Let it rise to the surface while you wait. Feel the smallness of it, that’s generally how it goes. This is the practice ground for noticing the heart and body signals before they have to get louder.

Now stay with it for a moment. Notice the subtle resistance that even a small trust generates. The head’s quick “but” or “wait” or “is that really the priority right now?” That’s the override again, showing up even for the small ones. That’s actually useful information because it shows you the subtle pattern clearly, at a scale where following through is manageable.

What would it take, today, to choose the small impulse over Mind’s opinion?

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

What would it look like to actually follow my heart today? What would it look like to immediately drink water when I get thirsty? To step away from the desk when my body feels stiff? To stop and go pee when I first need to? Ask these questions and answer from your body’s response.

XO,
LMW

Teaching

Here’s the thing about waiting for proof before you trust the heart: the proof only ever comes after you move. Clarity comes when we’re in motion. The journey doesn’t begin until we take the first step.

This is the fundamental maddening paradox of heart-led living, and it’s pretty annoying at times. Mind wants evidence first — show me it’ll work, show me it’s safe, show me someone else did this, and it turned out fine, show me the data, show me how to make $100K on Substack in Six Easy Steps — and then, once the case has been sufficiently made, it will graciously allow you to proceed.

The heart doesn’t operate that way. The heart sees through bullshit. Your gut throws the red flags far in advance. The heart says: here’s where we’re going. And then it waits for you to take a step before the path becomes visible. See? Annoying.

This means that if you’re waiting for proof before you trust what the heart said, you are, structurally, waiting for something that can only exist on the other side of the trust you haven’t given yet. It’s a door that only opens from inside. It’s a frustrating paradox, and yet remember what I said yesterday: you can trust because you’ve already bounced back from something more than once.

You’ve already done 1000 hard things. This is just one more.

I’ve watched people spend years in that I need proof, or a sign, or a fortune cookie that says, go for it, first loop. Waiting for certainty that can only be earned through the very action they won’t take without certainty. Wanting the harvest before they’ve planted, weeded, and watered. Wanting the knowing before they’ve taken the risk. Calling it caution. Calling it wisdom. And underneath it, softly beating, a heart that’s been trying to lead somewhere for years, patient as anything, waiting for someone to follow.

Mind will always be able to generate reasons to wait. It is exceptionally good at this! We know it’s resourceful and creative and it has your entire history of disappointments to draw from. You will never run out of reasons to wait, if that’s what you’re looking for.

But the heart’s knowing has a shelf life. It never withdraws in punishment, but because life moves, the river changes course, situations change, windows open and close, and the specific moment for a specific trust passes. Not forever. But it passes. And then there’s a new moment, and the heart will speak to that one too, and the question will be the same: now? or will you wait again?

Today, we look at where the proof problem is keeping you standing still.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. Ask the heart, not the case file.

Guided Meditation (7–8 minutes)

Hands in place. Breathe.

Bring to mind something the heart has been pointing toward that the head keeps asking for more proof about. It doesn’t matter how big or small. A direction. A decision. A conversation you’ve been waiting to have until you were “more sure.”

Feel the weight of the waiting. Really let yourself feel how long that thing has been sitting there, half-decided, waiting on proof that isn’t coming first.

Now ask your heart directly — not your head, your heart: What do I actually already know about this?

Let the answer come without editing it. Feel it in your body first, before you put language around it. Notice whether something settles in your chest when you hear the real answer, even if it scares you. Notice whether the “I don’t know yet” is a genuine need for more information, or proof-seeking from the part of us that really wants a money-back guarantee before taking any risks.

You don’t have to act today. But let yourself know what you actually know.

Breathe into that knowing. Let it be real, even if you’re not ready to move on it yet.

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

Where have I been waiting for proof that can only come from the other side of the trust? What do I actually already know if I’m honest? What action do I know I need to take, even if it risks disappointment, embarrassment, or a shame storm?

XO,
LMW

P.S. The door to what the heart is pointing toward opens from inside. You have to take the step first. The proof, the knowing, comes after, not before. That’s not a flaw in the system. That’s just a heart-led life.

Teaching

We’ve spent two weeks clearing brush and opening the channel — noticing the override, softening the armor, learning the heart’s language, practicing receiving. And now we arrive at the place where most people stall out.

Because opening feels manageable, as long as nothing’s actually required of you because of it. Noticing feels doable, I mean, you’re just noticing. Even receiving can be practiced in the safety of a meditation, eyes closed, hands on belly, the Mind can create anxiety but there are no real world stakes. But trusting? Acting on what comes through before you have proof it was right? Letting the heart lead somewhere your head hasn’t pre-approved?

That’s where shit gets real.

Most of us have a complicated relationship with trust because, duh, betrayal(s) at the minimum and abuse, violence, etc. on the more extreme end. We’ve confused trust with naiveté — as if trusting means abandoning discernment, handing yourself over to the universe like a leaf in the wind with no agency of your own. Or we’ve confused it with certainty — as if real trust only counts if you feel completely sure, with no fear underneath, no wobble, no part of you that wonders if you’ve got it wrong.

Neither of those is what trust actually is and neither are realistic ways to live and thrive.

Trust, in practice, is making the next move while the outcome is still unknown. It’s not the absence of fear. It’s doing the thing your heart clearly said while the fear is still present, because you’ve decide that the heart’s signal is more important than the fear’s argument. It’s a muscle, not a permanent state. It’s built incrementally, through small repeated acts of choosing the heart’s knowing over the head’s demand for guarantees.

That’s what this week is for. Small trusts first. Building the muscle. Learning what it actually feels like in your body when the heart is leading and you’re following, so you can recognize it more quickly when it happens.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. This week, we’re simply shifting our awareness to the channel, remember Source is always right there. We’re practicing what it feels like to move when something comes through it, to act on the guidance.

Guided Meditation (7–8 minutes)

Hands in place. Breathe slowly into both the heart, the belly. Let the warmth settle the thoughts.

Bring to mind a time — any time, big or small, recent or years ago — when you trusted something that came from your heart rather than your head, and it turned out to be right. A decision you couldn’t fully explain but made anyway. A direction you moved in before you had all the information or any kind of guarantee. A yes or a no that came from somewhere below logic and proved itself later.

Let yourself fully inhabit that memory for a moment. Not the outcome, the outcome is too often judged, so just find the feeling right before you acted.

• What did that trust feel like in your body?

• Was there a quality of settledness underneath the uncertainty?

• A kind of quietness at the center even though the surface was scared?

• A sense of rightness that was different in texture from a thought?

Really feel it. That quality or sensation, is what you’re learning to recognize as a benchmark of intuition. That’s the sensation of the heart leading. Your job this week is to get familiar enough with it that you can find it faster.

Now let the memory go and come back to your hands. To the warmth under your heart, the rootedness under your belly. Ask: Where in my life right now is the heart already leading, even if I haven’t fully followed yet?

Just let the answer arrive. Don’t act on it yet. Just see it.

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

Think of a time you trusted what came from your heart before you had proof. What did that trust feel like in your body and what happened because of it? I know we just did this but please roll with it. Use the same memory or find a new one.

What does your Heart want to tell you about trust today?

What does your heart want to contribute to a decision you need to make?

XO,
LMW

P.S. For years I’ve said that I don’t trust people, people do what they do. But I don’t have to live a suspicious or limited life because I trust my ability to bounce back, restore, and recover if someone betrays me. I know there is no guaranteed safety except in the connection to Source which can never be impacted - that’s where trust lives.

Teaching

You’ve spent a week inside the channel. Remembering it was always open. Getting honest about what’s been creating interference and staying honest about what’s present whenever you tune in. Softening the armor over the chest, even a little, even briefly. Practicing receiving instead of only giving, this is an ongoing thing for most of us by the way. Learning to perceive the heart’s language in images and sensations and inexplicable calms. Sitting with the quiet without demanding it deliver.

That’s a week’s worth of work that will mostly be invisible to people looking at your life from the outside and that most people will never even do. Nobody can see that your sternum released slightly on a Tuesday morning. Nobody knows about the moment the channel opened and something moved through it that you can’t quite explain but that landed with real weight. The inner work never photographs well.

But something has shifted. I’ll bet on it. Not dramatically, maybe, it’s most likely subtle because this isn’t a ten-day silent retreat, this is five minutes a day in the middle of a real life. But something. A slightly different relationship to your own silence.

A moment this week where you caught the heart speaking before the head could override it.

A breath that dropped in a little deeper than your breaths usually do.

A small receiving of info or awareness you allowed that you might have deflected before.

These small things are not small at all, cue Dr. Seuss, ha! They’re the whole thing, compounded over thirty days. The heart doesn’t open in one dramatic gesture of TA-DA it opens in accumulated moments of practice, each one a single thread, until suddenly you look up and there’s a fabric where there used to be just loose threads.

That’s the kind of tapestry we’re weaving. Thread by thread. Today, we stop long enough to acknowledge the weaving that’s already happened because when we celebrate we train our brains to look for more reasons to do so.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. Two weeks in. Notice how much more familiar this feels than it did on Day 1.

Guided Meditation (8–10 minutes)

Hands in place. Breathe slow and full.

Let this week pass through you like a slow river — the days you felt the channel clearly, the days you felt nothing, the softening, the receiving, the language of the heart, the quiet. Don’t grab at or analyze any of it. Just let it move through, the way you’d watch a week’s worth of weather pass through a window without needing to catalog it or make a spreadsheet.

Now ask: What has opened in me this week, even slightly, that wasn’t as open when we started?

Let the answer be whatever size it actually is. If it’s grand, let it be grand. If it’s barely perceptible — a single thread, a hairline crack in something that was sealed before — let that be the whole true answer without making it smaller than it is by deciding it should have been more.

Stay here with whatever you found. Breathe slowly and make space for anything that wants to show up, to show up.

Now let yourself feel, for a moment, a genuine sense of appreciation for your own showing up. Not for how you showed up, not for doing it perfectly or consistently or with full presence every day because seriously. Just for coming back. For having placed your hands here, day after day, even when you were tired or skeptical or couldn’t feel anything. The coming back is the practice. The coming back is already the transformation.

Take a full, slow breath. Let it land in both hands. Carry this with you into next week.

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

What has opened in my body, my heart, over these two weeks? What do I want to carry forward into the second half of this practice?

Write it from whatever body part wants to speak, it might be your heart or it might be your lungs, brain, liver.

XO,
LMW

P.S. A free event is coming up exploring the deeper hunger that comes from the ancestors - open to all humans! https://michellewolff.as.me/hunger Please share to anyone who you think might be interested in the leath and spiritual benefits of fasting but is fearful of it.

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Teaching

Some days you put your hands in place, you breathe, you open, you ask — and the heart says not a damn thing. Or what feels like nothing. Just a kind of interior blankness that your anxious mind immediately interprets as evidence: the channel’s not working, you’re doing it wrong, you’re not spiritual enough, evolved enough, clear enough for this to work for you.

You’re not doing anything wrong and the worst thing you can do is to start efforting or straining to find answers.

The heart being quiet is not the same as the channel being closed. And learning to tell the difference between silence that’s an absence of connection and silence that’s a presence and the silence is the answer is one of the most important things this practice will ever teach you.

Sometimes the heart’s quiet is the message. Sometimes it means: stop. Rest. Stop asking. Stop striving. You’ve been reaching so hard for the next answer that you’ve missed what’s already here. Sometimes it’s a fallow period, non-negotiable and inconveniently timed, where nothing new is ready to come through yet because the ground is still being prepared. You can’t rush that. Rushing fallow ground just exhausts you and doesn’t speed up the growing.

Rushing fallow ground is disrespectful to the rhythms of your system and it gets you nowhere.

And sometimes — and this is the one I want you to sit with today — the heart is quiet because it already told you and you were like, “nah, it can’t be that simple.”.

It said what it said, clearly, a week ago or a month ago, and now it’s waiting on you to do something with it. It’s not withholding. It’s patient. It gave you the message and it’s letting you take your time deciding whether you’re going to trust it.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. Stay here even when — especially when — nothing seems to be happening and you Mind is chattering away.

Guided Meditation (7–8 minutes)

Hands in place. Let this begin more slowly than usual. Don’t rush to settle. Just let yourself arrive, in whatever state you’re actually in.

If you’re angsty be angsty. Track the charge, the sensations, around the body like this: tension in my chest, wait until it moves, tension in my throat, wait until it moves, flutter in my solar plexus, wait until it moves, repeat until peace arrives.

Today there is no question to ask. Today there is nothing to figure out, nothing to receive, nothing to look for. Today the practice is just this: being here, with your hands where they go, for as long as you can stay without needing something to happen.

If thoughts come, let them come. Don’t fight them and don’t follow them. Let them be weather you’re watching from inside. Label them, “thinking” or “thoughts”.

If the heart feels quiet, let it be quiet. Let the quiet be as welcome as any message you might have gotten. Breathe into it. Let yourself find out what it actually feels like to be in quiet without immediately trying to fill it or decide what it means.

If something does arise — a word, a feeling, a knowing — let it. Don’t be surprised by the sudden aliveness of it after the quiet. That’s the heart’s timing, not yours.

Stay here. Do nothing. Be here. That’s the whole meditation today.

Take as long as you want. You don’t have to do anything. Just showing up and staying was the practice.

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

How do I respond when the heart goes quiet — do I panic, push harder, decide something’s wrong? What would it mean to trust the quiet instead? To simply rest in silence?

XO,
LMW

P.S. I have a few openings for readings: https://michellewolff.as.me/reading

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Teaching

The heart doesn’t speak in linear streams or bullet points. It doesn’t send a white paper or a well-organized five-step plan with clear deliverables and a reasonable timeline. It doesn’t give you a pros and cons list or a spreadsheet you can analyze. If you’ve been waiting for the heart to communicate in the language the head prefers, linear, logical, definitive, you’ve probably spent a lot of time convinced the heart wasn’t saying anything.

It was saying plenty. You just didn’t recognize the language.

The heart speaks in images and sensation.

In a sudden, inexplicable calm that settles over you when you finally stop arguing and just accept something you already knew.

In a song that comes on at exactly the right moment and breaks you open a little in a way you can’t fully explain.

In a phrase that rises up from somewhere below your thinking mind and lands in your chest with a weight and a rightness that’s completely disproportionate to how quiet the moment was. In a dream you woke from feeling different, even if you couldn’t remember the details. In the way your whole body exhales — genuinely, involuntarily — when something is finally, actually, the right thing.

In the tightening when it isn’t. In the feel of a door slamming when you shut down love.

In a memory surfacing from nowhere while you’re just sitting at a red light.

In a color. A texture. An animal. A place. A ripple of goosebumps. An itchy ants-in-the-pants restlessness.

The language of the heart uses everything available to it, including the parts of your experience your logical mind has trained you to dismiss as “just” a feeling, “just” a coincidence, “just” your imagination. That’s exactly where it lives. In the just. In the things your head wrote off before they could even register in your consciousness.

Today, we practice learning to read the language that’s already been speaking — fluently, patiently, your whole life.

The Anchor

Hand on heart, hand on belly. Wait for the heart’s language. Don’t rush to translate it into something your head can analyze and file.

Guided Meditation (7–8 minutes)

Hands in place. Breathe slow and low, into the belly first, then let it rise into the chest.

Bring to mind a small, genuine question, something you’d actually like a little guidance on. Keep it specific, keep it real, and keep it small for today. This isn’t a meditation for your biggest life decisions. It’s for practicing the listening.

Ask the question once, clearly, from your heart. Not your head. Feel it in the chest as you ask it.

Now stop asking. Set the question down. And just listen — for a physical sensation, a settling, for anything at all that arises in response.

Remember this requires building a new vocabulary, a bank of symbolic language.

Again: Images. Colors. A memory with a particular quality of feeling. A physical sensation — a warmth, a deep sigh, a subtle expansion or a gentle contraction. A fragment of a song. A single word that surfaces without you reaching for it. The memory of a smell. A person’s face.

Whatever comes, don’t filter it. Don’t decide it’s not sophisticated enough to be a real answer. Don’t cross-check it against what your head thinks the answer should be. Just let it be very simple data. Let it be the heart speaking unfiltered.

If nothing comes at all, that’s data too — stay with the open waiting. The heart sometimes responds immediately and sometimes makes you sit in the not-yet for a while. Both are valid. Both are part of learning to listen.

When you’re ready, take a breath and let your hands rest. Hold whatever came — or whatever didn’t come — with real curiosity rather than judgment. Now get ready to write…

Somatic Journaling Prompt (7 minutes)

What language has my heart been speaking in lately that I’ve been dismissing as “just” a feeling, a coincidence, a random image, or wishful thinking? What if it wasn’t “just” anything?

XO,
LMW

P.S. I have some openings for readings this weekend:

In my sessions I blend psychic perception and evidential mediumship through my Embodied Psychic Method which is a grounded, body-centered approach to connecting with guides, teachers, and loved ones in spirit.

Rather than channeling vague information from somewhere “out there,” I work with the body as the instrument, bringing through information that is clear, specific, and most importantly, useful.

In our session together, you can expect a variety of events: meaningful connection with those who have passed if they are available, practical psychic insight for life’s questions or struggles, healing energy, or channeled information.

Regardless of the details, you’ll have an experience that leaves you feeling not just informed, but inspired, grounded, and more at home in yourself.

Intuitive Sessions can be booked here: https://michellewolff.as.me/reading

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