There's a layer to the Jewel in the Lotus story that I didn't write about in the first blog. It isn't about the build, the unveiling, or what happened when people stepped inside. It's about what I knew needed to happen before any of that, and why.

Creativity is something that I’ve had a complex dance with over the course of my lifetime. As a kid, I was more creatively inclined, opting for colouring, painting and drama classes over math and sciences. High school was a slog for me, and I had the attitude of enduring it rather than enjoying it once the fulfilling classes fell to the wayside in favour of physics, trigonometry and doing math with letters.

I've been working with women in this capacity for close to thirty years. In that time, I've sat with hundreds of gifted practitioners, healers, and business owners who have done “everything right” strategically and still find themselves coming up against the same financial ceiling, the same dry spells, the same pattern of invoices that get paid late or not at all.

When I really look at the spiritual industry right now, I see these two groups or types of practitioners running the same underlying pattern in opposite directions. The first group is financially contracted; they’re genuinely gifted, deeply trained, and chronically stuck at the same financial ceiling regardless of what they try.

I've spent years following stories about cult leaders. Documentaries, podcasts, books, and deep rabbit holes that my closest friends know well by now. It's not morbid curiosity that pulls me there; it's recognition.

Have you been experiencing the type of disorientation that tends to occur in gifted women at mid-career? I don’t mean burnout, though it often is labelled as such. It’s not depression either, and it’s not perimenopause (but can definitely be happening alongside).