October 16, 2017

#MeToo




Words are powerful. Speaking them and writing them shifts things internally. I've discovered this most in writing my memoir and reclaiming myself through the process, but there are some words that are difficult to say. Alcoholic was difficult for me to say. Homeless has been an uncomfortable one for me lately, as I have a more objective view of my life from twenty years ago. Sexual Assault is perhaps the most difficult. There are words that are true, even when we don't want them to be.

Yes, Me Too. I am so moved by all who have participated in this moment and discussion. I am proud of those who are taking time to recognize their part, who feel something from this. I also acknowledge those who chose to remain silent or don't want to participate, that is ok too. And to all of the men, I know you too. There is space for us to all be here and heal.

I want to share with you about the time I was in the same room with Harvey Weinstein. Cannes Film Festival in 2015, the Netflix talk with Chief of Content Ted Sarandos. I had just walked past Jane Fonda, so giddy that I got to be here with the elite of my industry. A heated discussion was taking place in the room, producers and journalists began to argue with Sarandos and call out the secrecy of audience reach, budgets and distribution...and Harvey stands up. There was an audible gasp and a thrill in the air. Hollywood Royalty was before us. Everyone listened. A blind person would have felt the shift, immense power and influence. Him being in the room was the highlight of my trip. One degree of Weinstein. It's now the kind of thing that keeps my mother up at night. Her conclusion, "I'm so glad you never moved to the US. Hollywood is no place for a woman."

But where is our place exactly? Have I been safe here in Edmonton, Alberta? Have I been spared from sexism, harassment and a disgusting abuse of power and influence? No, I have not. None of us have. In fact, perhaps it is worse. Perhaps people get away with more.

The problem is, we idolize a lot of mediocre men. We defer a lot of power to The Gatekeepers - those who decide whether we're in or out, greenlit or banished. The problem is, their spotlight feels wonderful when it's on you and it's so easy to be charmed by the empty praise of being talented, which is why you desperately need to know who the fuck you are so it doesn't fill you or phase you. I have also felt the cold shadows from powerful men who have had their feathers ruffled when my "no" has harmed their ego. I have fallen from a few "golden child" pedestals, snubbed and ignored at industry parties in my own hometown.

The film industry is carefully constructed to favor the people who already have power and influence and it has been a playground for perversion and coercion for far too long. Let's not be blind to what is happening in our own backyard. I've had to promote a director through a previous job that I know sexually abuses women. How do I resolve that? The backroom whispers are not enough to keep women safe. Everyone knows it. Nothing is done. I've adjudicated films in Alberta that have turned my stomach. Low budget "indie horrors," aka a vehicle for disgusting men to cast themselves in sex scenes with young women with zero acting experience. I've read a script recently that actually made me cry. It was supposed to be a comedy. The way women were portrayed made me realize this screenwriter hates women and he doesn't even know it. I couldn't sleep that night. Instead I started plotting a vicious revenge film in the vein of Deliverance because maybe, finally, you guys would fucking get how tired I am of watching women being called sluts, cowering in terror, being raped and killed. So tired.

I will say this: sometimes those talented people we see in the room are the ones who have perfected the mask. All that glitters is not gold. And when we do finally get to see the man behind the curtain, maybe we should stop pretending. Maybe we should say something, because words are more powerful when they leave the tip of the tonque, the teeth, the lips.

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October 12, 2017

Love Letters to the Universe

Photo by Laura Makabresku
Once we've let go of the plot, now what? Do we wander aimless without hopes or dreams? Do we float tits up in surrender? No. Now we get to the good stuff. In transitional times, this is where we pull up the sleeves and lay out all our materials for alchemy. We ask ourselves, how do I want to feel now? What do I want to experience and who do I want with me?

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September 25, 2017

TAROTSCOPES : OCTOBER 2017

Follow the Sparks of the New as inspired people and opportunities are coming foward this month!

OVERALL ENERGY: PAGE OF WANDS
Surprise! This October isn't going to be the typical sweater-weather retreat into darker days. The Page of Wands signals a month of new beginnings, creative expression and unleashed passions for us all. Pages are also messengers and often represent actual persons of influence, so pay attention to the signs: repeated messages, synchronistic events and new characters appearing - there's something important you need to hear. How will this exuberant energy manifest in your life? Find your sign!

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September 19, 2017

Letting Go of the Plot

"Don’t grieve for what doesn’t come.
Some things that don’t happen keep disasters from happening."
-Rumi, Joy at Sudden Disappointment
There is the story we desire and the one that unfolds. It's difficult not to be the petulant child when the two don't align. The conversations I've been having lately indicate that many of us are in the midst of massive change. Some of us are packing up and moving cities, leaving relationships, evaluating our choices, waking up to things we can no longer ignore, wondering if what we're chasing is really what we want, not knowing how all of this is going to turn out.

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August 13, 2017

Ghosting Is Killing Us Creatively


How we show up in the world is often revealed in how we show up for each other. Here's why "Ghosting" needs to stop...

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July 13, 2017

Feeling Vulnerable AF and Getting On With It

Photo by Dara Scully

Seven is the most spiritual of numbers. In numerology, it is considered the number of introspection, transformation, and meditation to gain clarity. It's also a hell of a long absence. It wasn't my intention to take such a long sabbatical from this blog. I'm not even sure how it happened. With gentle nudges of friends and readers asking for my return, I started to wonder... when did I stop being willing to share myself?

I'm very sensitive about being a writer who doesn't write, but the truth is I've been working on my memoir behind the scenes, which has thoroughly excavated my emotional resources. Add some serious bullshit in the romance department and massive changes in my career and home and I found myself straight up spiritually fatigued.

Feeling the 10 of Swords kind of low, I needed to hold myself in - a good sign of mental health and mega self-love. Going within brings a lot of answers and there's no real way to calculate how much time is required for healing and for the preparation of a massive shift.

Time to Shake Off the Lobster Shell

When we need to grow, life gets terribly uncomfortable. A friend of mine calls this the lobster shell, as these little monsters shed their protection when it's time to upgrade and expand. The pressure is a sign of growth, but so many of us try to shrink in order not to feel it because change is inconvenient, messy and a general pain in the ass.

Shrinking can also feel like depression with symptoms of numbness, fatigue, feeling isolated, feeling invisible, increased reliance on drugs or alcohol or my personal indicator, being sick all the time. Sounds like an infomercial for a horrible pharmaceutical drug where the side effects are worse than the condition.

I had to start paying attention to my discomfort, which came first as a whisper and then a goddamn brick to the face. For me, being emotionally drained is a signal that I've side-stepped my purpose. It's a call to shift and a call to expand. Often, I just don't want to move.

Vulnerability is Not a Four-Letter Word

Casting off the shell is an incredibly vulnerable process. Even lobsters go into hiding when they're molting. It's a survival thing. And in the end we come out stronger, more capable and more fulfilled. 

In the midst of not wanting to share myself, I started fishing for vulnerability. I started co-producing this series with Stephen Robinson (How to Learn Anything) called ShrinkWrapped, a talk-show with Psychiatrist Dr. Peter Silverstone. Our objective: real people, real conversations.

I researched influencers in the realm of social media, seeking out that magic combination of people willing to be visible, vulnerable and authentic. I'm instinctively drawn to people who do this. They are fascinating to watch and their energy is contagious. It was incredible to be on the sidelines and watch these conversations. I felt so proud of these participants for being real and opening up. And then I was asked to participate. Ugh. I figured it's not really fair of me to coax others into sharing themselves openly and then refuse to do so myself. So... giddy up.

Now let me explain that when it comes to vulnerability, I try to live by the motto of big open heart, big fucking fence. In my desire for connection, I've realized that I needed more discernment of who gets to know me and be in my life. Part of that power has come through writing my memoir, as I've spent time healing and processing the past. Only then can I openly share it - otherwise, it's not a service to me or anyone else. Again, that processing time has taken longer than I expected.

Now I feel compelled to share my story and the call is bigger than the quiver. Writing was the first part in releasing my past. Sharing my experience may help someone else know that it gets better.

Yes, I feel vulnerable. Yes, I struggle to share myself. Yes, I feel raw and naked and at times, and frankly, it feels lonely too. I keep trying to make vulnerable a four-letter word and unfortunately, it has a lot of consonants and I seriously doubt my ability to make #vuln a thing.

Perhaps vulnerability feels so gross because there's not enough of us living in this space, having real conversations and being upfront with each other. Lost in our social personas, lost in the search for attention and validation, I think we're all craving something real. So we gotta be real.

A lobster molts at least twice a year in adulthood. It's a natural process. We too need to allow for nature to run its course and then get on with it.

It's good to be back. xoxo
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