Last week I got on downhill skis for the first time in 15+ years and discovered that it is, in fact, like riding a bike. It came right back to me and I had a blast.

My friend Sarah Jenks and I were sitting outside for lunch after a glorious morning skiing and we dove head first into the topic of our books and our resistance to writing said books.

We’re both “writing books” but not making much visible progress on them at the moment. At least in terms of word count. (If we were counting the number of hours thinking about writing, that would be a whole other story.)

I told Sarah I knew why she was so resistant to sitting down and writing. And the only reason I know is because it’s the exact same reason I’m resistant.

And I wonder if it’s the same for you, too?

A lot of writers say that writing is agony.

That’s not been my experience. I write and teach for a living and when I find myself in the clickety clackety flow of letting the words out, it’s more like bliss for me.

I lose track of time and space. I feel tremendous joy. And I feel like Source is running right through me onto the page.

Dancing with the resistance that shows up, to getting my fingers on the keyboard, and showing up for what wants to come through?

That part’s agony.

It feels kinda squirmy to say this, but there are 3 things that make me feel the closest to God that I also have the most resistance to doing but that I’m thrilled I’ve done every single time:

1. Going to dance class
2. Having sex
3. Writing

All of these activities dissolve my ego and make me feel as close to the combo of stardust and earth that made me as I’m gonna be feeling in this lifetime.

So why the resistance?

Why do we resist showing up to do the things that plug us into Source?

I think it has to do with our ambivalence about our power, aka our greatness.

It’s like that Marianne Williamson quote. You know the one: “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. It’s that we are powerful beyond measure.”

When I finally get my butt in the chair (or my feet in front of my standing desk) and let the words pour through, I feel powerful beyond measure.

I’m totally present and I remember who I really am.

You don’t have to be writing a book (or avoiding writing one) in order for this to apply to you.

I see it all the freaking time with women and money, in fact.

My friend and mentor Barbara Huson (formerly Stanny) says that our ambivalent relationship with money has to do with our ambivalent relationship to our power.

I’m not here to tell you that focusing on money is gonna get you closer to God and your greatness (though I’m not gonna tell you it can’t. Everyone’s got their own unique way to plug in.)

But I AM here to tell you that if you’re avoiding engaging with your money and hoping someone is just gonna come along and take care of you or that it’ll just kind of handle itself, you are for sure siphoning your power.

We’re gonna talk more about money and power and why it matters to you whether you’re concerned about saving for retirement, paying off your debt, or simply ready to catapult into your next level of income. So stick around if this is a conversation you want to have, or at least know you need to be having.

Perhaps you’ll join Sarah and I in our pact to stop shying away from our power (aka the Source energy that wants to come through us in the form of our books) and just show up every day at the page?

What’s the thing that you’re not doing that’s making it so that you’re playing smaller than you know you’re capable of?

Is it spacing out about your income or your expenses?

Is it going unconscious and spending the money you’d intended to set aside for retirement this month?

Is it avoiding writing your book?

Is it scrolling Instagram instead of working on your one woman show?

No matter what you’re avoiding, it all comes down to this:

You are powerful beyond measure. So am I. And most of us are scared shitless of what it means to play as full out as we know we could.

But I’ll keep showing up if you will, ok?

To our greatness,
Kate