{peace.love.free}

These words were written four years ago, at the junction between the end of one life and the beginning of another.  They were my path to boldness when I felt like hiding, solace in the midst of pain, and a reminder to keep moving forward.  Since then they have traveled organically around the world on the mysterious waves of cyberspace – ending up on posters, and in books and even inked on the bodies of strangers.

For the very first time I am making Go Now and Live available as a fine art print in a brand new design.*  The print is currently available as a signed 12×12 print on Fine Art Linen paper.  Other sizes and products (including notecards) are in the works.

I feels good to do this at the start of a new year.  Sending my words out to all of you, with intention and trust and faith that these can lift and stir something in your spirit just as they did in mine.  And I will kiss every print and send it on it’s way on wings of wild, crazy and free,  dreaming beautiful dreams of all the travels these words will take before they are done.

Go Now and Live, sweet souls. This is your year. I can feel it.

Purchase your copy of Go Now and Live or to read more of the story behind the words.

*created by the delicious and delightful Amanda Farough of violetminded Designs.
{all words and design copyright 2012 Jeanette LeBlanc & Amanda Farough}

You say the more you think
You know what’s right
The less you do
What you feel inside
So I won’t pretend that I always know
I just follow my heart wherever it goes
And I may not always get it right
But at least I’m living coz I’ve only got this…

One life, one life, one life
I’ve got this one life

If I knew yesterday what I know today
Where would I be tomorrow
I won’t let my soul slide away
I’d do whatever it takes
Coz this time’s only borrowed

Come here.

Right here.  Get closer.  Real close.

Can you feel my breath on your cheek?  Yes?  Good.

Now take off your clothes.

You heard me.  All of them.  Right now.

Yup.  It’s time to get nekkid.

Everyone needs to strip down now and then, to get naked and let the wind breeze blow across bare skin so that every last nerve ending feels exquisitely alive.   We just rang in a brand new year and there’s no time like the present.

Feeling shy?  Of course you are.  Those clothes cover up a lot that you’re more comfortable hiding away.  They hide fear and shame and all your tender and achy parts.  Bumps and bruises and those spots where your skin got sheared clear away by that wipeout.   You’ve got not-good-enough moments tucked in your pockets and repeated pleas of i-couldn’t-possibly hidden under your hat.  Why, you’re even wearing sunglasses inside so I can’t see the depths of pain behind your eyes.    Sweet girl, let me hold those for you – you don’t need them here.

We’re so accustomed to tucking it all away, thinking it more polite or acceptable to keep it to ourselves – making snarky comments at those who feel free enough to parade it all for the world to see.  We’re constantly afraid that one of our layers might shift or be blown up in the breeze; exposing the parts we keep deeply hidden and fiercely guarded.

We laugh too little, and we don’t cry near enough.  We judge ourselves with harsh words and harsher actions; thinking we’ll beat the world to the punch by taking ourselves out first.  We silence our voices, limit our choices and hide our magic under layers and layers of protection.

This, my friends, takes a ton of energy.  This keeps you from the brilliance that only comes with being seeing and being seen and loving it all anyway.  You know what?  This year has too much in store for you for you to even consider continuing this way.  This year demands boldness, and physicality and sensuality and moxie like none has before.  There are times in life for playing small, for covering up and hiding away.  This, sweetness, is not one of those years.

This year is about claiming, about living fierce with reality, about celebrating your inherent holiness and getting down with your goddess self.  And it’s hard to shake your divine booty when it’s covered in layers and layers of stuff.  Lets take care of that right now.

It all starts with getting naked.  Shedding and peeling and tearing all that does not serve you.  Culling and paring down what holds you back.  Dismantling walls and protective layers and all that keeps you distanced from your one, magical life.

That cloak of self-deprecation?  Gone.
That skirt made of long-held shame?  Burn it.
Those too small shoes that you thought you needed to be beautiful?  Garbage.
The pockets stuffed full of unspoken dreams? Empty them now.
That big old ugly sweater knitted from every hateful word you’ve ever absorbed.? Fuck. That. Shit.

It’s time to take off those clothes, dammit.

I’ll put on some music.  Get you a stripper pole if you like.  By the soft light of a hundred candles or right in the center of the spotlight.   I’ll feed you chocolate dipped strawberries with whipped cream.   If you need me too, I can help.  Look you straight in the eyes, transmit universal love and unbutton the buttons.  Spiritual Seduction delivered exactly as needed.  We can do this long and drawn out and fast and dirty.  The end result is all the same.

There you’ll stand.  Without your armor.  Without talismans or amulets and everything you always wanted and thought for sure you needed to get by.  All of it.  Gone.

And there you are.  Just you.  Utterly, breathtakingly perfect.  You’ve let it all go now, and aren’t you the beauty?  Just as you are.  None of that stuff was necessary.  And yes, you want to run and hide.  You’re cowering in preparation for the judgment and the cold air and the wash of shame that is sure to come.

Except it doesn’t. The air is warm and the room is filled with nothing but love.  No judgment.  No harsh words.   We’re too awestruck by your beauty to even consider it.  We’re blown away by your courage and in awe of your strength.  There you are, doing the very thing we know we should do but can’t quite make ourselves commit to.

And with the removal of all that did not serve, there is space cleared to call home what is already yours.

Call it home, darling, call it home.

You can dance by yourself whenever the music moves you.  You can read your poem to 300 people even though your legs are shaking.  You can submit that novel that you poured your heart into to the best publishing house in the country.   You can learn to sky dive, go back to school, birth your baby on your own terms, end your marriage, fall in love, raise your voice, speak your mind, invite the consequences of living your truest life.  It’s all yours for the taking.

It’s all yours for the taking.

And when you’re ready to get dressed again you’ll find only the finest fabrics; sheer, light and beautiful.  In colors that make you shine from the inside out.   And although you could choose to cover yourself again, you wouldn’t dream of it.  You’ve witnessed the magic of transparency and seen how crazy beautiful the world looks with your light shinning on it.

Plus – you are on badass hot mama in your birthday suit. Don’t let anyone EVER tell you otherwise.

For you, and for the lifetimes you’ve lived in one short year:

For the endings, and the beginnings and all the spaces in between.

For last year’s words and this years voice and for everything that must remain unsaid.

For boldly speaking your truth and for all that you still hold inside.

For falling over and over and rising again and again.

For life lessons that left you in stunned disbelief and the gentle eyes of an unexpected teacher who lifted you up and carried you from the void.

For living the questions and for discovering the answers.

For losing your way and finding your tribe.

For being willing to break in order to become.

For lust and for trust and for the long twisty journey in between the two.

For head up and eyes wide open and for moments of faith when there is no light to be found.

For quiet resolve and for wailing confusion.

For eyes locked across a room for the first time and for the way your hands find each other in the middle of the night after years of sharing the same bed.

For the courage to strike off on your own and for the comfort of knowing you can always come back home.

For taking up arms against fears and demons and those intent on harm, and for laying down your weapons and walking away in peace.

For claiming what is rightfully yours and for releasing what can no longer be.

For loving what you don’t understand and questioning what you thought you knew for sure.

For letting go and holding on tight.

For losing it all in order to gain what matters.

For standing tall and learning your truth and for forgetting it all in order to start all over again.

For blind faith in something you cannot see, touch or feel and for knowing that all of life is at your fingertips.

For the beauty in contradiction, the bitterness in the compromise and the brilliance of the mystery.

For dancing with ache and longing, and for making peace with what you have.

For grasping tight and for releasing to the wind.

For the knowing and the unknowing and that sliver of space where both coexist.

For the buckets of salty tears and the kindness that dried them all.

For pleasure and for pain and for the ability to hold both in one body.

For simple pleasures and crazy imaginings.

For the releasing the wild spirit within and for holding yourself in quiet dignity.

For blazing seduction, for the wild rhythm of bodies and lips and teeth and skin and for tender reverence and holding hands and spooning in the dark.

For the ease found in comfort zones and for the fierce reality of smashing down walls.

For angry battles, and grudges held and for the sweet bliss of forgiveness.

For the desolation of the desert, for the pounding of the surf and for the forever green of the forest.

For boundaries crossed and limits held firm.

For the dishes and the laundry and the dust bunnies.  For keeping up with the Joneses and for leaving the mess to go out and play instead.

For building a house of cards and for burning it all to the ground.

For painstaking attention and determination and for wasting hours on beautifully impossible daydreams.

For red wine and dark chocolate and hot sex and all the earthly pleasures that ground you here.

For celebration and for mourning and for surrounding both in the ritual of spirit.

For believing and for questioning and for the unsteady ground that bridges the two.

For holding your breath till your lungs burn and for the sweet relief of the exhale.

For head-spinning kisses and mind-numbing loneliness.

For thinking you might never get what you want and for knowing you’ll always have what you need and for the bittersweet edge that this acceptance brings.

For companionship and for solitude and for the spaces you can have both at once.

For solo living room dance parties and for singing in the shower.

For hula hoops and crayons and roller skates.  For growing older in body and staying young in spirit.

For the times you thought you couldn’t go on, and the moment you realized that nothing could stop you.

For knowing that you are divinity personified, beautiful beyond comprehension and powerful beyond measure.

For all of this I honor you, the year you have lived and the one you are about to begin.

Happy New Year.