Your Message = Your Mess+Age
Your mess is the most authentic thing about you.
Others may copy your style, or your dress, or any number of superficial masks that you wear. But nobody can replicate the lessons you have learned from your own life’s difficulties.
Your mess is authentically your own, but it’s not ready to share with others until it has aged. A fresh mess is repulsive, smelly, and gross. An aged mess decomposes all the foul matter, leaving only the purest artifacts of the experience.
“Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is youer than you.” — Dr. Seuss
My next live Masterclass is all about how you can find your message by navigating through your personal mess:
In this month’s live Masterclass, you will learn:
+ The Clarity Of The Truest You
+ Desperation Repels, Common Unity Attracts
+ Your Greatest Wound Is Your Greatest Power
+ Fake It Till You Make Imposter Syndrome Your Friend
Your mess gives you the deepest insights into the human experience. As your mess decomposes, it goes through a process like fermentation.
Apple juice will turn to alcoholic cider over enough time, as the yeast and sugars do their chemical dance. There comes a time when this decomposing mess is ready to be shared as cider. If it sits for too long, it becomes vinegar, and nobody can stand the taste. It’s great for scouring, but it’s not pleasant for sipping.
The best stories confront a shared human condition. Our community arises from our common unity. That’s why there’s so much alignment in the question: You know what I mean?
The struggles you’ve been through, that I am going through right now, will resonate with my experience so much that we vibrate together. When I feel that you know how I truly feel, I trust you, because our hearts are aligned.
“The wound is the place where the light enters you.” — Rumi
It is from the mess that we identify our shared experience. When your messages, you can use the fermentation to power your message. Join me in my next live Masterclass and I will show you how.
