I met Jesus and was filled with the light of the Holy Spirit.
Before you say oh no, not you too Bianca.
No. I’m not part of the wave of New Age spiritual practitioners who denounce their previous professions and say yoga is demonic.
It was in a plant medicine ceremony. In a Native American tipi.
But apparently that’s not “legit.”
Not the “real Jesus” because the Bible didn’t say so.
Ah well. Consider me Pagan AF then. I want it on a t-shirt.
Look, I’ll happily call bullshit on religious dogma.
And I call out incongruence every day as my profession.
Funny. Not funny though, when I find my own incongruence staring me back in the face.
What the fuck. Who gave you the mic?
(Don’t you hate it when you have to swallow your own medicine.)
I didn’t realise until just the other day how much bullshit I’ve swallowed in the name of “making money.”
I thought “their way” was just “the way.”
I’ve spent two decades earnestly learning The Bible of Marketing & Sales.
And didn’t know when it was okay to say “enough.” Put it down and make it my own.
They still can’t beat the placebo effect, you know.
To honour what feels real to me, what I know and believe to be true.
To act from that place and follow my own rules.
Call it delusion. Call it conviction. Either way, following your inner knowing as a strategy still sells better than any “perfect”funnel.
But just like waking up from any brainwashing, I only just realised how far I’d gone down the rabbit hole the other day.
My own Baptism of sorts.
It started with realising how quickly I come alive when I enter a conversation where I don’t have to check who’s in the room and who I might have to explain myself to.
Truth be told, I get bored AF trying to establish legitimacy with the 1+1=2 crowd.
My soul withers a little bit every time.
If somebody is unwilling to look beyond what’s in front of their face, I have to move at a snail’s pace to be heard.
Feels like over-pronouncing my words to dear old deaf Aunt Mavis across the dinner table.
But I come alive in conversations where we already share the same frame.
That we are a part of nature, not separate.
That we can honour the ancestors in our daily actions.
That the spirit world is real.
That our thoughts and intentions influence our reality.
When we already know in our bones that 1+1 equals 3. And we catalyse from there.
That’s when 1+1 = 11 and suddenly the person who was scrambling to pitch 6k packages, is now commanding 120k deals, and all it took was a shift in perspective.
A mic-drop moment channeled from a place so “in the know” – that if you asked me to repeat it I’d not be able to.
Even still. There are places I shrink.
The spaces that make me feel you like they just caught me – frozen under the flood lights, like I’m a prisoner in a jail break.
It’s the spaces dominated by the type of Christianity that wants to colonise you.
Where even my own relationship with Jesus is listened to with a desire to override it.
To place it through a more palatable, mouldable lens.
In the moment, I’ll still push back with a “pfft” and a dismissive wave of the hand.
But the marketplace has been asking me to abandon my own knowing for someone else’s rules for the past two decades.
I’ve been rebellious to The Church. Complicit to The Establishment.
I’ve spent years contorting to whatever room is in front of me.
Lying to myself about the places and spaces I actually come alive in.
Trying to make my work fit a formula. When the work itself breaks formulas.
The work I do liberates people from their conditioning so their unfiltered expression becomes their most profitable asset
It happens in a state.
The moment I try to describe it, package it, niche it down so it fits the funnel, I’m out.
Out of the state that made it work in the first place.
Marketing demands you reduce a 1+1=11 moment down to 1+1=2 so it fits in a funnel.
And the people teaching the rules don’t operate in the state.
So their rules can only ever distort and dilute the work.
The paradox is – you have to learn the rules of the game deeply enough to know exactly which ones to break.
I’ve just been swallowing the red pill for too long.
And I know this pill is true because there’s nobody I can confirm it with.
Nobody who can tell me if I’m “on the right path”… or “finally getting it”.
Just what’s right for me. When you realise you’ve been asking the wrong question. And the answer had been sitting under your nose the whole time.
This is what’s right. For me.
It’s the same state I get my clients into.
A sense of “knowing and going”.
A devotional practice to the vision arriving, yet never grasping on how or when it does.
It’s fucking infuriating I tell you.
Where the only thing that you can be sure of, is that you can’t be sure of it.
That’s how you know you’re on the right track.
When all the foundational pieces are built and aligned with the why, we’re in the liminal space of surrendering the how.
Seven years I’ve been unpacking this.
Building a whole methodology after 6 high ticket sales engagements in a row crashed and burned
After watching high functioning CEO’s unwillingness to look at their incongruence
As their leaked sickness into the sales process and mirrored every area of their life and business they refused to look at
The final chain popped this week.
They say you teach what you most need to learn. And what I teach is:
If money is your master, money and joy will always stay elusive.
It’s a case of art imitating life imitating art.
Not much changes from the outside, except maybe just a sense of giving less fucks in your forties and being delighted about it.
When you stop splitting your life between what you love and what makes money, you become the person where those are the same thing.
