Holy moley, what a journey I’ve been on with these oils.
As I’ve shared before, I fell in love with doTERRA essential oils when I least expected it. I was TOTALLY sceptical that smelly shit would make a difference to my (totally fucked) health at the time. After spending six months in and out of bed with recurring fevers and infections, and being tested for everything from tuberculosis to lung cancer, and endless rounds of antibiotics, I started using doTERRA OnGuard essential oil because I was out of any other solution.
But they did make a difference. Hugely, profoundly and deeply. It was almost instantaneous. After a week, I ordered more oils. And more. And realised I could use them for more and more things. They became my go to when I was experiencing sleeplessness and anxious feelings and needing digestion support. I saw how big a difference they made in parenting. I started craving that kind of clean, powerful, lo-tox energy in all my haircare and cleaning products. Soon, they became an intrinsic part of life, health, parenting, cleaning and home.
The hub + hearth of our home… our essential oil box in our kitchen that gets used upteen times a day!
These crystal children of ours are so sensitive, and come into this world knowing so intently what feels good and what doesn’t. And they connect with oils SO QUICKLY. They get it faster than we do.
Now my kids know to come to me for oils… for upset bellies, if they are feeling upset, if they can’t get to sleep, for bumps and bug bites and all the other calamities that happen.
We diffuse oils every day while we homeschool to help us with attention and encouragement. If we are out and about, there’s oils in my handbag for meltdowns and motion sickness. We diffuse oils in bedrooms at night to help our kids fall asleep easily. They are so very special… such an empowering, healing tool to use.
So I wanted to do this webinar. To help you discover how to naturally support your children’s immune systems, focus and emotions with essential oils.
I’m finishing up my Term 1 review of homeschooling this week, and thought it would be fun to share some of the books we’ve most loved reading together so far this year. We read books together for up to an hour each day – me snuggled up with my girls (4 and 8 years old). Then I ask the girls for their book rating out of 5 stars, and record our reads that day using Goodreads.
Something odd – I don’t have a long lasting reading (or speaking) voice. I’m a throat speaker, and it gives out pretty quickly. I’ve consciously spent the last year building up my read aloud capacity, and it’s improving, thankfully. I’ve built it up by trying to speak from my belly while I read… it does make my voice slightly deeper and less excitable, but it definitely helps with endurance.
ANYWAYS! Here’s what we’ve been loving lately… as voted by my kids.
We bought the first for Christmas and it was so inhaled and adored that I pre-ordered the second one that day.
What I love most about it is it’s a girl who adores science and animal biology, and she researches, uses the scientific method and keeps a scientific notebook. Plus it’s gorgeously illustrated, and just so much fun.
Best part: her pet is called MEH who says MEH constantly. My kids love taking it in terms to yell MEH as soon as they see the word on the page. It becomes pretty funny.
When I asked my kids for their 5 star rating, Ostara said “GOOGLEPLEX! THE LARGEST KNOWN NUMBER IN THE UNIVERSE!” so I’m pretty sure that’s a decent rating.
Ostara adores audiobooks with the force of a hungry word wolf, so I also bought the complete collection on audiobook, along with the complete collection of Merlin Missions books (which is the next series for slightly older readers). She’s consumed all 50+ audio books… twice. Girl loves words!
We’ve read them all before, but we just did another full re-read after going to see another Storey Treehouse play. We’ve been to two now, plus a book launch/talk with Andy and Terry. Events like that make the books come even more alive and ready for another re-read.
The lessons and rhythm of life has changed once more.
Once a Maiden, fresh-faced and hopeful, learning who I was and what my dreams were.
Then the work of bringing those dreams into the world.
Babies and businesses and marriage and an acreage and so many adventures.
A Mother, tired eyes, a little more worn, a little more wane.
Teaching me how to be sovereign and strong, how to be compassionate and alive.
And as time passes, learning loss.
There’s still so many notches left on the lifeline of course.
My grandmother would have laughed at the very idea of 35 being in some way weathered.
She, the matriarch at 97. She, who would call people in their 70s “spring chickens”.
I’m one third of her, but already I can see that loss will be a continuing theme, something I need to get more comfortable with.
Loss of dreams.
Loss of times past and can’t ever be revived.
Loss of that wooden house in the rainforest and the feeling that I was living my dream on a patch of land.
Loss of that unshakeable confidence that was as much a part of me as my hands, my liver… now so much shakier.
Loss of unshakeable optimism in people, loss of trust that those I meet and love will always be kind and well-intentioned.
Loss of my parent’s marriage and the constellation of my family of origin. Do they ever talk about just how painful it can be, even as an adult?
Loss of people, the pile of memories accumulating at a faster and faster rate. The bigger the space where they used to roam this earth. It used to be just one-off incidences, but lately they seem to come faster, and it doesn’t seem any sign of letting up. The places where my brother used to live, my uncles, my grandmothers and great aunt and nan, my husband’s best friend, my friends’ husbands and parents.
Maybe my trio of elders held me back from the cliff march of time for a while. They took their sweet, luxurious time before they left – Nan at 102, Aunt Lucy at 99, Gran at 97. While they were alive, the years spread large and long, the great breadth of life assured. But now their generation has shuffled off, and our parent’s generation is next up at the cliff face. Some are beginning to fall too fast, too soon.
And I see it all now.
How, too soon, it will be our turn at the cliff edge too.
Those concepts of time passing and generations arriving and leaving in great waves and mortality, once so mystical and imaginary and far off, are now close and real and sobering.
I see what Granny was talking about all along. I can’t say I wasn’t warned.
The years go by too fast, in the blink of an eye. I still feel 18 inside. Children grow up too fast. Everybody dies, and it’s hard. Getting older is hard.
And I was young and said “Yes, yes, Granny, I understand” but I didn’t really understand. The world was at my feet and expanding with possibility and I thought I would be immune to all that, and even if I wasn’t it was a long, long way off.
But the years went by too fast, just like she said they would. And I am finally starting to glimpse just what she tried to tell me.
My brothers’ Dad died today, and it feels like there is a tall, lanky shaped hole gaping in the world.
It’s hard to explain our connection, just that when I saw him for the first time, it was a sweet relief to know my eldest brother was still somehow walking through the world on those long legs. He was a kind and good man, and we loved him like an uncle who’d given us brothers. Losing him is like losing my brother again, that incarnation, that archetype. Losing him shuffles us all closer to the cliff.
We made a trip to the river, as we always do, a trip that is becoming more regular.
Take flowers, place them in the river, give a silent prayer of gratitude and love for the soul making their rainbow journey.
Watch them float down the stream under a wide blue sky specked with gums.
I think of Glennon Doyle’s words:
“Life is brutal. It’s all beautiful. I call it brutiful.”
I wonder how I’m going to get good at this.
Get graceful at loss. Get okay with the pain of life.
Don’t want it to carve me up into jaded, shrunken, dried up, boarded in.
Want to be softer, wider, wiser.
Gently joyous even as the sand slips through my fingers.
I didn’t know what to do with this feeling. That brimming of emotions and memories all tangled and damp.
Write it out, I thought.
That’s what you used to do. Let the page make sense of it for you.
Or as Carrie said:
Take your broken heart, turn it into art.
My Grandmother told me how to deal with this too.
She would say:
I woke up this morning again, and I was still breathing, and I thought It’s a good day to be alive.
I meant to sit and write this down for you earlier, but then Christmas happened, and then that slow slide into summer holidays, and I’ve been bobbing along that stream of gentle days ever since, reluctant to get out of the water.
But the light is gold shards today and the sky an impossible blue, and we spent all day at the park and then in the garden, and my mind is so full of greens and blues that the only place to turn is the page to write.
It was a week or so before Christmas. One of those weeks that feels bordering on child mayhem with two kids insistent on jumping off surfaces for the most part of the day.
I decided to escape the house and have a cafe date. I loaded up my handbag with novels and journal and pens, set for a quiet break of nothing but my own thoughts for a spell. A reprieve from children who joyfully, irrepressibly fill every moment with voice and noice. A reprieve from a head that thumped too much with worry and pain, not of big things gone wonky, but a culmination of little ones.
I thought I’d go to the bookstore first. Start off this micro retreat with some solid bookshelf malingering. To get there, I had to manoeuvre by the cafe. But before I could go any further: there was my favourite seat. Open and ready for me.
I thought it was a sign.
So I shrugged my shoulders, left the book whispering for later, and slid into place.
The next table over, there was an elder woman. I notice as she tries to talk to the table on the other side. The women there smile and nod their heads, but don’t engage.
She looks over at me, and echoes the same line:
“Do we order here? Or at the counter? I’m not sure. I’ve just had a really shit day. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
I look over and up. Just as before, there was a decision to be made. When a moment unfurls with a stranger, do you choose it?
I’m here for you, I try to tell her with my eyes. I’m open and ready for this.
I scoot over on the long bench seat to be closer to her. I show her the menu, and we talk about what’s best to eat. I show her how to order.
She orders, and she sits down beside me again. We laugh a little, and her eyes brim with tears.
“I’m sorry. I’ve really had a shit day. I’m sorry for swearing. I know old people shouldn’t swear, but I do.”
“You’re in the right place for swearing, I bloody love it,” I tell her.
“I shouldn’t be crying. But it really has been a shit day. My phone hasn’t been working all week, and I’ve been so anxious about it. And then I forgot my pin for my credit card. And maybe it’s just the season, but my husband died a few years ago, and I still miss him so much…”
She begins to cry, and I do to.
“Oh no! Now I’ve made you cry too!”
“That’s okay. That’s what other humans are for, isn’t it? That’s what we are made for.”
We hold hands, and cry about how hard shit days can be, and we do it together.
Her lunch comes, the one I (and Leslie Knope) recommended: pancakes with ice-cream and blueberry. We drag our tables together. I drink my chai tea and lemon pie beside her. We share lunch together, and I ask her to tell me her story.
And she does. She tells me the miracles and the tragedies of her eighty years. She tells me in vivid detail about the night her mother died when she was 10, and about the day after when she was put in an orphanage. She tells me the night dancing in a decrepit hall when she met her husband 50 years ago. She shows me photographs of him: the strikingly handsome young man in uniform, and him before he died: still handsome, thick black hair streaked with moonlight. “He drove me batty, you know. I was ready to kill him sometimes! But then he made me laugh again. It was a good life, with him.” She tells me the date of their anniversary, and the ways he tells her he’s still around, still loves her from the Great Beyond.
“I’m sorry for putting this on you…” she tells me, when she runs out of story. I tell her it was the best part of my day.
When it is time to leave, I tell her my name. She gasps “That’s my sister’s name! I can’t believe it!” She tells me hers, and she shares half of my sister’s.
I hug her when I leave. She curls her head on my shoulder.
Sometimes we are each exactly what the other needs.
Here’s to another year of miracle moments with strangers.
Merry Ordinary Christmas from me and my family to you and yours.
And if it’s been a shit one, even more hugs and love to you. We have had a quiet Christmas as always… one filled with LEGO and books. Low-key is our style statement.
I asked my husband on the day if he had any Christmas feelings coming up that needed processing. You know the kind: guilt, grief, sadness, unmet expectations, longing, pain, pressure, worry, overwhelm, exhaustion. His was only about a 2/10 this year. Mine were about the same, so that’s a win. We’ve certainly had years when those feelings were much bigger and needed much more attention.
I share this because I’d like for all of us to know that not being 100% merry is totes normal.
We can craft our own season, free of expectations, and more able to acknowledge the full breadth of our feelings.
Here’s a pie chart of Christmas feelings this year:
And now the holiday season REALLY begins!
My favourite time of year is here… the post-Christmas gentle after all the expectation and pressure-cooker build up gone… the days between now and January’s end ready for reflection, dreaming and planning.
Today, I pulled out my workbooks that I wrote a year ago and read through it all… the closing ceremony and the goals I made. It’s amazing how things have changed in one year, and I’m so grateful I have these written reminders of who I was, how I’ve healed, and what I’m becoming next.
So many dreams came true this year – most I planned on in those goals workbooks, others I didn’t (i.e. the beautiful surprise of homeschooling). It’s always a miracle to meet with my Past Self and Future Self in these workbooks. I can see the random threads of my life weaving into a tapestry. What a blessing.
Tis the time to review last year’s goals workbooks… and start filling in next years!
And then dreaming up what is next…
Over the next few weeks (right up until January’s end), I’ll be ensconced in my own dreaming process.
I wrote and illustrated these babies for myself a lifetime ago before I was a mama… thought I’d share them with the world as an afterthought… only for them to become a cult hit used by over 400,000 beautiful souls around the world (!!!!)
Even if I’d just kept them for myself though… they would still be my favourite creation. Such an essential part of my own process for crafting my own life and business.
But I’m glad it’s not just me that’s doing it… that I get to share this journey with so many of you… it makes my heart so happy to hear of YOUR dreams and goals coming true as well.
If ya love ’em, I’d gratefully love a review to help other souls know they are worth their time.
In the meantime…
Let’s go gently.
It’s been a massive year globally. The Tower is falling in so many ways, systems falling apart and old modes of being being exposed to be consciously healed. Needed – yes. Cathartic – yes. Painful, scary, stressful – yes. All these things, all at once.
And we can only do it with self-care and self-compassion, first and foremost. Tend to our wounds so we can tend to the wounds of the world. Tend to the wounds of the world so we can tend to our own. It’s so intrinsically connected.
Come home to our centre, grow within us light, love, compassion and understanding. Then: radiate that out into the world.
I think we can start feeling like our dreams are selfish… and yet they are essential. We must make our dreams and plans for how we want ourselves + the world to heal next. One can’t happen without the other.
We are each needed in this big, beautiful world, with our gentle, loving hearts, and our sky-wide dreams.
It’s that time of year… my annual tradition of sharing my favourite reads for the year. You can read previous ones years here: 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016.
To be honest, I wasn’t planning on writing one of these this year – I felt like all I read was homeschooling books. But then one of my Academy members told me she was couldn’t wait to read this year’s booklist (thanks Jill!) and I got to thinking of all the good reads I HAVE had. And that it might not be as big of a list as in year’s previous, but there were still books that should be shared.
Plus, I thought, while I’m at it, I thought I’d share my favourite tv shows, podcasts + shit I bought.
First up: state of the read. What were my reading habits like this year?
I changed (again) my reading habits.
This year has felt like an intensive study into two new themes: homeschooling + network marketing.
I bought them in the truckloads, and consumed them as rapidly as I could.
I definitely didn’t have as much free time this year with starting homeschooling + a third company, and that impacted on the amount of books I read outside of those two topics.
I kept reading printed books 95% of the time, Kindle for uber trash romance/erotica that I didn’t need a paperback of.
I’d definitely like to get back into more of a pattern of reading more, and across more themes in 2018. This year has felt like a mad scramble to consume content!
By far, this is the best book of the year. I would even go so far as it entering my top ten favourite books ever (!!!!)
It was one of those serendipitous finds: a last-minute rush buy in an airport bookstore before a flight. That trip ended up being a disaster of comical proportions, but this book was its saving grace.
It’s the true story of a young bloke walking across America in order to get his shit together. Sounds a bit trite, but seriously: this book had me switching between laughing, madly scribbling vast swathes of it down in my journal, and sobbing convulsively.
Honestly, it was better than Wild for me (and I love Cheryl Strayed!) or any other “walking to fix your inner shit up” books I’ve read (I love that that’s a category of books now! ha!)
So much heart, and wisdom, and kindness, and hope.
I’m a longterm fan of Scott… in fact, I bought this book about 10 years ago. It was the first finance book we ever read, and it really helped us get our shit together. Scott’s the reason we cut up our credit cards and started understanding money and how to make it work for us. He’s still the one I rely on most of all to increase my financial literacy.
He re-wrote and re-released the book this year, and it is beyond brilliant.He’s the real deal, the shit, the bomb dot com. I know I sound like a raving fan, which I am. I think EVERYBODY should get this book and do the steps in it. It will change your life.
When I read Gretchen’s last (also fantastic) book Better Than Before: What I Learned About Making and Breaking Habits I was enthralled by a chapter of it on her four habit tendencies (or personality types). It was that brilliant, I wished the whole book fleshed it out more. Obviously, I wasn’t the only one to think this, because she did it! This book is the result of that. I couldn’t be gladder.
I reckon this book is excellent in helping to increase your productivity by knowing your tendencies’ weaknesses and strengths. Here’s a brief overview of the four tendencies, and you can also take the quiz here to determine which tendency you are.
For example, I’m an Obliger. I am great at meeting other people’s expectations, not as great at meeting my own at times. The way I get around it: I use public accountability and tell other people my goals in order to create outer expectations. It’s probably why I blog about my goals too! It’s all about seeing clearly how you work best, and setting up the structures to make it happen.
This one is a brand new book-baby, but I’ve gobbled it up.
Honestly, learning about this shit has been a life theme for me for a while now. And I’m bloody DELIGHTED that somebody has written about it. It’s made me feel so much less alone in dealing with challenges.
I found it really useful as a base textbook to consider things to be teaching for the year. Good, clear, fluff-free. There’s one for every grade. I’ll definitely be getting the Second Grader one for next year.
So as you know, I just completed a 12 month experiment in network marketing + managed to become the fastest doTERRA business builder in history. It’s been a fun adventure learning a new business model, and I consumed a ginormous stack of books about the industry. Here’s some of the best:
Oh gosh, how can I even say how wonderful this book is?
100 beautifully illustrated profiles of brilliant women throughout history.
We read this over dinner, with a globe out to find the country for each profile, and an iPad and Google Home to do further research (i.e. interviews or songs or poems) from the women my girls are most excited by. We’ve had such a lovely time together going through it.
Ostara is OBSESSIVE about this book (she is 7)… so much so, when we finished it, she said:
“WAAAAA! HOW AM I GOING TO LIIIIIIIIIVE NOW THIS BOOK IS FINISHED?”
It’s been one of the biggest parenting honours + joys of mine to introduce my daughters to my most favourite childhood author. They do however have to intermittently wait as I sob through parts of it though. #sorrynotsorry
I don’t love most magazines, to be honest. I always feel a bit disappointed by them, but I keep trying them again and again in the hope of hitting gold. This one is gold – decent, well-written, thoughtful articles written by people who haven’t had a lobotomy. Gorgeous illustrations, and delicious pull-outs. Hooray!
I would also be remiss if I didn’t mention the magazine that has been my #1 honey for nearly 20 years (!!!!): Weekend Australian Magazine. Comes free with every edition of the Weekend Australian. Current favourite columnists: Trent Dalton + Nikki Gemmell.
I mostly deep-dived into homeschooling blogs. Some of my favourites:
Two journalists sharing what they are cooking, reading and watching. They make me feel smarter for being in their realm, plus their relationship enters the territory of… what’s the chick version of bromance? Let’s call it fromance. I don’t know. But they are adorable.
Oh MATE. MAAAAAAATE. Hands down one of the best tv shows of recent years. Starts off slow and takes a bit to find its pace… but holy cracker, it grows into something brilliant, funny, philosophical + stunningly smart.
I stopped watching it in Season 4 when Danny + Mindy split up. SPOILER ALERT INCOMING! As soon as I read they were getting back together in the finale, I binge-watched the SHIT out of it. Still as hilarious as ever, with a brilliant ensemble cast. Can’t wait to see what Mindy creates next!
Ill-advised obsession. I usually refuse to watch reality TV dating shows (except for my beloved Farmer Wants a Wife #dontyoujudgemeIgrewuponafarmIcanthelpititmustbegenetic). But I got sucked into this one out of curiosity, then quickly fell down a rabbit hole of obsessively reading the live Twitter stream while it was being broadcast, and then reading all the hilarious blog recaps, and mostly becoming far too emotionally invested in working out who would win. Ask my poor friends, who were subjected to copious amounts of texting while I emotionally processed the situation, and also sent photographs as evidence of body language that indicated the winner. For the record: I was right in my obsessive Rain Man-ing calculations. But upon reflection, it was NOT a great way to spend a month of my life. Just to be clear. Ha!
I should also state: my husband sat with me and watched the whole thing with me. Because: also long-suffering but understanding. He never spoke or judged, just sat and watched sweetly. And at the finale’s end, turned to me and said:
“What the fuck have I just spent the last month watching? What are we DOING with our lives?”
And then we both laughed and laughed and laughed.
I hereby promise myself (and my long-suffering husband and mates) to never commit my life to another Bachelor or Bachelorette season again.
I fell down a planner rabbithole in research with my own planner that I created last year. And when I knew I wasn’t going to continue creating them, I decided to find what I wanted to use for myself going forward.
I landed at Happy Planners because I love being able to easily add pages and cards with a special hole punch. Plus, because it’s a fairly simple design, it means you can pimp the fuck out of it rainbow style with washi tape, photos, collage etc. It’s basically scrapbooking your calendar. There’s accessories galore which can become quite addictive.
I’ve found it useful to lay it out visually each week – it helps me see where I might be overscheduling myself, plus my brain memorises it once I’ve made art about it. Plus, I’ve enjoyed trying out different colour schemes that I wouldn’t try ordinarily… I’ve even done (GASP!) some black and white themed weeks (!!!!!)
Last year I wrote about discovering Youfoodz which delivers fresh readymade meals. That worked really well for us for ages, until we got bored with the meal choices, and fell back into our regular meal habits: my husband cooking very basic meals on some nights, and ordering takeaway other nights. We decided it was time to make a change again, and start cooking and eating healthier at home. Maybe it was from watching cooking shows as our family TV selection! Ha!
Anyways, I decided to try a Marley Spoon box which is recipe cards with the ingredients you need to make it. We’re pretty massive fans… I’ve learned new cooking skills, and we’ve so enjoyed trying new meals. Plus, it’s helping our kids try new foods as well.
I dig that I don’t have to do that painful (to me) task of having to hunt for recipes, making a list of ingredients, then searching for them at the grocery store, and having leftover ingredients afterwards. No food waste and pain-free WOOP!
(Also: I should say, I know I sound like a sponsored ad. As always, it’s not. I’m just a raving fan!)
Recycled boatwood furniture
I think this is more of an inner realisation thing. I finally realised that I should just accept my taste in home furnishings, and not buy anything outside of that taste wherever possible.
What brings me joy is: recycled boatwood furniture. Kind of chunky, weathered furniture made out of old boats (or recycled wood). And that it can be bloody hard to find in furniture stores, but it’s worth the hunt.
When this bookcase arrived and we put it in place, my love noted:
Hey! It matches our artwork collection!
And it totally did. Old wood + turquoise + colours = my style statement.
(Paintings by Janet Lloyd. She builds her frames out of old houses, funnily enough!)
Pro-tip: I found good pieces on VidaXL. Ishka also has them in store as well.
And where would I be without talking about my own favourite ritual to close out a year + set goals for the next.
These have been the rudder + sails of my life for the last 9 years, and I don’t know where I’d be without them. They’ve made a massive difference to me, my life + my business. I’m looking forward to drinking white wine in the sun in the backyard, watching my kids play in the sprinkler, and scribing out my deepest dreams for the year ahead.
Things not going to plan. Things that were going to plan coming with additional clauses of stress.
I decided wallowing in the house wasn’t going to change much, so I thought a walk would be best.
Outside there is movement and sky and a wander up a hill and maybe the chance to see things with a bit of space.
Outside there’s a chapel to talk to God, one I can’t seem to access inside a loud house of family. God sometimes takes her time to lay interventions in my wake so I can’t help but be transformed. Sometimes there is nothing but silence and itchy legs and I wonder why I have been abandoned. But at least I have to go outside and try.
So I laced up my offensively pink walking shoes and set off.
As I reached the end of my driveway, there was an older man walking along, pushing a pram.
He was headed in the same direction in me, and I wondered if I should do the usual city response of a head nod, and brisk walking away to ensure a large circle of personal space and silence.
But I thought: that’s not really my style. I’ve always been a “talk to strangers” kind of person. I’m the kind of person on public transport who will gleefully launch into conversations and make firm friends… then turn to another stranger and invite them into the stranger party. For a while there in my twenties, I was the main instigator of the “Bus 313 Crew” – a motley bunch of 10 or so hitherto unknown public transport strangers who became far too involved in each other’s lives and went to laksa houses for lunch and Irish pubs for dancing.
But then kids happened, and I stopped doing a lot of that spontaneity. And I miss that. I miss that part of myself, and that time of my life where it felt like miracles were around every corner.
So it was a decision that day:
Do the uncommon thing.
So I turned to Man with a Pram. And I smiled. And I talked.
First about the weather (of course), and then about his new grandson (just a few weeks old, a fresh new arrival on the planet). He told me what it was like to be a grandfather for the first time: “I enjoy it this time around. I’m relaxed. I’m glad I can be here for this.”
We start strolling together, with a tiny brand new soul asleep in his nest just before us.
It feels holy to walk beside the brand new ones: we get to glimpse the tender miracle it is to even be here and experience all this.
I ask him about his work, and he tells me he works in disability services. I tell him my brother had cerebral palsy.
And then he asked me how old my brother was.
At which point, I promptly burst into tears.
It was surprising. I didn’t know the tears were so close.
“He passed away 20 years ago,” I I said, gulping through the sobs. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying. I should be over it by now.”
He was kind, and gentle with me, and we talked about what it was to have a good life – whether it was length or depth.
We crept closer to the pram, to that vivid new light.
Strangers who’d walked just a few hundred metres together, but somehow managed to talk about the big things we forget to share: birth, death, grief still twenty years on.
It was time to take different paths.
He asked me for my name. I asked for his.
That was our goodbye: to know the basic of each other as we’d glimpsed the rare and vulnerable in each other.
I took the shortcut between the houses, strode out along the path between eucalypts, walked up the hill that smelt of Australian summer, walking beneath that bright blue sky, sobbing.
Sometimes grief rolls in like a wave, unannounced.
Sometimes, on walks, I feel held by angels.
I see things which make me believe they’ve placed gifts before me, reassuring me I’m on the right path. And they always seem to be sequenced in threes. Three gifts from the heavens. 1, 2, 3.
It doesn’t happen always, but it happens enough.
That day was one of those times.
First, a feather.
Large and black, glossy with purple.
So large it must be from a swan.
The winged ones are close, I think. The angels.
I lace it through my braid, and walk on.
Up where the path sweeps around the hill, there is a stone.
Black with a distinct white line around it.
The size of my palm, flat and smooth.
I hold it, palm it over and over again.
Gifted twice over by the earth.
This must be one of those three gift days, I think to myself. If there’s more than one, it’s always three.
First a feather, then a rock.
I wonder what next will meet me on the path.
I carried on, down through the paddock, through the narrow gate, tracing my way back down into the suburbs and in to home.
And I keep looking for that third gift.
The gifts always come in threes.
I drop down between the two houses, emerge onto my street.
The angels must have forgotten the third today, I think. It’s a double gift day. Maybe that’s a new thing they are doing.
Either way, I am grateful. It’s been a holy walk.
I never come back from a walk the same person as I left,
Funk gone, wiped clean by tears and kindness, earth and air.
It’s only later that night, sitting back over the day, that I see what was so true all along:
It’s been a worthwhile and a wonderful way to spend a year.
But first, a quick reminder why I decided to build a doTERRA business:
I wanted an extra income stream that was residual, recurring and mostly passive
I realised it was a really great way to fund philanthropic organisations as well
I knew it would be an awesome business model for so many people, and I was excited to help them reach their goals
I had a huge profound love of the oils after having experienced such a big shift in my health from using them, and I believed every home should have them.
Being the very goals-orientated soul I am, I set some really clear goals before I went in. I wanted to build to a 7 figure income stream annually within 12 months to make it worth my time. And I wanted to help 6 people build to 6 figures within 12 months, and help many more be on the path to getting there.
It’s my 11 month anniversary of starting, and I’m right on track with reaching those goals.
I’m one of the fastest people in history to build so fast. I reckon that record will be broken though, and I hope it’s one of you who do it!
How have I managed to get to my goals?
After years of using the workbooks, I know if I set a goal + follow through, it can come true. It’s a simple science.
I knew to leverage my strengths. I didn’t want to do the traditional MLM model of doing 1:1 training. I decided to create training videos and a full resource library for all my people who were building doTERRA businesses.
I did the same with webinars about essential oils – created on-demand training so people can learn as they were ready.
There’s been some extra lovely side-effects of those goals as well… and these are the things that really matter.
Remember how last year at Christmas we made a miracle happen together and built a well for Suluhisho Children’s Village in Kenya? This year, I committed to donating $20,000 of my doterra cheque annually to sponsoring the orphans who call Suluhisho home. It makes my heart very happy. And I also feel like there is more work to be done… I know my dear friend Jacinta who runs Suluhisho wants to extend it further to be able to take in more children who have no where else to go. I think doTERRA is a bloody great way to fund it.
I’ve loved learning about a new business model. It expands my brain in the very best of ways. I think it’s important to keep learning and growing and getting uncomfortable. It helps get stasis out of the system, and encourages you to look at existing businesses in a new way as well.
I’ve also had a bloody lovely time connecting and having fun with the beautiful souls I work with as my doTERRA team. It’s such an inter-connected business, and it’s brought me so much joy to see them reaching their goals.
Case in point: an hour ago, I got a teary voicemail message from one of them who has just quit her nursing job because doTERRA has now replaced her income. She said: “I’m so glad I just listened to that little nudge that told me this was worth doing… my dreams were worth having… and I pulled my head out of my ass and just did it.”
This is the graphic I created to remind myself of why my goal was important… the goal of becoming a doTerra Presidential Diamond:
So in terms of whether it’s been a good investment of time?
Damn straight. Delighted that I’ve done it.
A Short List Of Excuses
I feel like I’ve also gotten a master’s degree in people’s mindset this year. I think because doTERRA is a proven business model with replicable steps to success, it’s really easy to spot where excuses come up.
Often what happens in the face of pushing for our goals, we come up against so many parts of ourselves – our fears, our inertia, our subconcious beliefs. And when it comes to actually DOING the work and getting the results, we run to excuses as a way to make ourselves powerless again.
I think sometimes it can feel scary for people to realise they are 100% responsible for themselves and what they are creating… it can be easier (and I think it’s more socially normal) for people to just blame outside circumstances so they can stay firmly outside of their power.
But there’s great beauty and transformation that comes when we choose to step up and do the thing anyway: even when it’s hard, or scary, or we don’t know what to do.
For shits and giggles, here’s my list of the most common Totally Unique + Valid Reasons doTERRA Won’t Work As A Business Model For Them (aka Just kidding, they really are just bullshit excuses):
“That’s nice for LEONIE… but she has a huge following! It doesn’t work for normal people.” Fascinating excuse there, but how do you explain my friend Em who has built to half a million dollars a year in 2 years without a following? Or that 4 out of my 6 leaders (i.e. in 6 figure positions after less than a year) didn’t have a following either? Or that the vast, vast majority of successful doTERRA leaders have no online following either? It’s a system designed for normal people to succeed.
“It won’t work in my town because it is too remote/lower socio-economic/religious/small/large/nobody likes MLMs here.” Whatever your excuse, I can show you examples of people succeeding in that exact circumstance.
“MLM IS EVIL! ARGH!” Sure, you’re welcome to have that belief. I totally did as well prior to researching it. You’re most welcome to read about my judgments and how they stacked up against reality here. It might also be useful to think about your judgments and ask: “Are these my lived experience, or second- or third-hand opinions of others?” When I started looking at the business model, I realised how much of my preconceptions didn’t belong to me at all. Of course, you’re most welcome to keep having those beliefs and judgments as well. Whatever works for you!
“Can’t! I have a baby/small children!” Again – so many examples of people making it work in your exact situation. One of my top business builders started with a 3 week old baby in her arms! You can listen to her story here.
I think it’s been really interesting to witness how mistakes and excuses can trip up so many people… and it’s good to just cut through it with real talk.
It’s helped me understand how people are in ALL businesses, not just doterra, and how much getting rid of excuses + cultivating a great mindset is pivotal to success.
Am I going to quit any of my businesses?
Nope: I’m happy with my current stable of three (Academy, workbooks, doterra). I’ve got ideas for a fourth, but that will come in time. I think 2018 will be the year of growing and blooming my current three. I’ve got ideas to make them all more delicious. I know three may seem like a lot, but they all interweave so beautifully together.
Oh holy fuck, I just had a big lightning bolt of awareness:
The one thing that all of my three offerings have in common is this:
I help people reach their goals.
Well, fuck. I think I need to go for a walk and sit with that. It feels like the thread of my work has just shown up.
Will you ever shut up talking about essential oils?
No idea. Probably not at this point. It’s going to get folded into that mix of everything I talk about: business, life, parenting, soul. I tend to talk about whatever I am passionate about, and whatever hobbies and interests get thrown into the mix.
After experiencing the huge healing I had with essential oils, I felt (and continue to feel) called to remind people of the power of plant medicine, and be a voice for the plant devas. There’s so much healing to behold there, bringing us back to an ancient way of being. So yeah, I’m going to have to talk about ’em coz it’s too sacred not to.
It’s always fascinating to me how people react to change. I remember 5 years ago when I decided I wanted to start talking about business and money as well, and how some people were so resistant to that change. They just wanted me to keep on writing about “only spiritual” things.
Which reminds me of this drawing that my mastermind buddy David Cohen from DoodleJoy did of me back then as I was going through that transformation.
If the oils stuff doesn’t resonate with you, you can either cheerfully ignore, or unsubscribe. Totally fine either way.
I can only hope that if you resonate enough with the soul of my work, you’ll extend me the grace to speak about every subject I’m passionate about. Talking about a MLM business isn’t that different from traditional business – and I believe there are great personal + business lessons to learn from it as well.
And I’m ready and looking for the next 6 people who want to go 6 figures in 12 months.
Is it you?
I’ll bring the training, coaching and an incredible mastermind of women who are doing it together. You bring your big, ready heart and willingness to work.
If you want to be one of the next cohort to hit 6 figures next year, all you need to do is follow the instructions here to enrol. I can’t wait to connect + start now on making 2018 an abundant, life-changing year with you.
It’s been a delicious year.
I’m excited for what’s next and who I can help reach their goals over the next year!
Okay, time for me to go for a walk in the mountains. It has been a wet, stormy Spring and the world now seems overflowing with lurid blue and iridescent green.