Excuse me while I slip into something more comfortable...

I am very good at my work as a therapist. I am a master artist in the medium of imagination. An intrepid explorer of the realms of the psyche. A wizened dragon slayer for hire.

I am not very good at describing this in market accessible ways. I can be concise, but then It feels flat, or opaque - so I get descriptive, and then I go on for pages and pages - ultimately loosing my own point. The difficulty i'm having in describing what I do doesn't match the ease and flare with which I actually do it.

So, i'm soaking up soul-filled guidance and then trying it out. and for me, this kind of learning involves trying on an outfit, prancing around for a while to see how I like it and then tossing the discarded garments all over the place with my sense of what I'm trying to accomplish coming clearer. In short, I'm making a damn mess.

The mess I'm making is this lovely website and my constant revisions. Sometimes I edit a few words here and there, other times I re write *everything*. Sometimes it's because i'm so on fire with inspiration I *have* to capture it. And Oh, I feel deliciously clear. Until I don't anymore and something starts to feel uncomfortable or incomplete or unintentionally inaccurate. And, I hope you'll forgive me, because I'm not trying to be confusing or to unsettle you (although I have a natural tendency to disrupt the status quo - it's part of my magic) it's just that usually, my unsettling affect is much more elegant. But all my creating and then tearing it up and starting over again is one of the ways I move right up to the growing edge of a limitation, pressing my nose against it and letting my breath fog up the shiny surface of it until I shatter it or shove through it or melt it with love.

The great thing about the internet is that nothing is written in stone. I can edit and revise and try on new hats all day long. I might not generate much of a reader base with my antics, but aside from alienating you lovely people whom I eventually hope to attract back to this space, I am free to muck about as much as I need to in order to figure this thing called 'marketing' out.

This is a great thing about life, too. You get to make a glorious mess of it. Revel in the unfinished, inelegance of it. There's room to try out things you aren't good at, room to risk looking foolish over a bold choice that lands all wonky, straining itself in the attempt. I encourage my clients to take this exact kind of risk. Because doing anything your own way, inspired by what is unique in you is always a risk. You can learn from people who have been risky before you, find inspiration in their boldness and courage. Ultimately, though, you'll be the first example of your way of doing things being a success.

I don't want to help make things tidy and straight forward, I want to help ruffle them up. I actively hope you're making a mess of things and will gleefully provoke the courage in you to break some rules and color outside the lines a bit. I love to see boldness bursting out of you with an unexpected YES! for something you're willing to try out and have no idea how it will go.

Taylor at Too Good to Fail writes beautifully about why taking the risk of not looking good and not getting it right really isn't the end of the world like it seems to be. I recommend printing her post and reading it to yourself as a bedtime story for the next month until your bones remember that the stories of your life never end, there is always another story inside all the other stories ready to unfurl itself the moment you're ready to experience it.