My Wanderlust Workshop!

Blog Book Speaking

I swear, I am still high from my workshop at Wanderlust LA this month! Wanderlust is one of the most amazing places of all time. Tucked away in the heart of LA, this zen den/yoga studio/workshop and cafe is conscious, gorgeous and a million different kinds of wonderful. Their meals are healthy and delicious, and they carry some of my favorite brands, such as my favorite beauty dust, Moon Juice!

The Cured by Nature Workshop has been so transformative to do, and it’s still a huge pinch-me moment that it meant so much to you guys, too! I met some of the most beautiful souls and incredible people. I had such amazing personal moments of clarity throughout. (Scroll down to watch the video!)

Can I just take a minute to express how incredibly grateful I am that I get to do this with my time on this earth? How cool is it that I get to share my story with the world, and that you, my loves, tell me day in and day out that it’s helped you!? My book has only been out for 4 months and change, and we get messages each and every day that Cured by Nature is not only touching people…

It’s saving lives.

I mean, there are days I feel like I seriously won the job lottery.

Y’know, my arm still bears scars from a time where I deeply didn’t value my life at all.

It wasn’t that long ago.

The gratitude that I have for life, for the ability to teach, is unmatched. There are days I feel like I’m just walking around in a beautiful, grand dream.

As I first sat down to write my book, a few thoughts were inescapable. How, exactly, did I end up here?

6 months after my Dad passed, with a brand spanking new book deal, the challenge to write openly and honestly about my journey and a 3 month deadline to hand in my first draft, I felt a little overwhelmed. To say the least.

Where to start?

A voice spoke up.

Start at the beginning…

That voice whispered at first. I tinkered around a bit. I asked myself again. And again. And again.

Same answer every time.

The voice spoke so loudly I couldn’t ignore it. I ended up debating it for awhile, but when I finally sat down to write…

I did start at the beginning. As far back as I could remember, and then some.

The voice continued.

It continued to direct me and to guide me.

It allowed me to let it all out when I needed to.

It reassured me sometimes that it was okay to cry.

Other times, it bluntly told me to suck it up for a minute so we could get these important things on paper.

The voice got me up early when I had written late into the night, and it dragged my butt outside to write on grey, rainy mornings. It allowed me to write while working a handful of jobs, being on set for a major motion picture, and handling a lot of emotional stuff. It told me to shut out the drama and encouraged the peace.  It assured me that I was doing the right thing, and that my words had a purpose in someone’s life. Many, many peoples lives. And it encouraged me.

It encouraged me to break my heart open.

It encouraged me to use this experience as therapy.

It encouraged me to be honest and authentic.

It encouraged me to buy fingerless gloves so that I could seamlessly write no matter what the weather, because I was determined to write my book on the beach. That beach. The beach that plays such an important role in the book.

That voice directed me, protected me and seamlessly affected everything. It guided every word.

Was the voice me?

My intuition? My spirit animal? My psyche? God? A unicorn?

Who knows?

All I know is it woke me up with bolts of inspiration on countless nights. It was the force that picked up the pen and scribbled ideas on my hand. That opened up my phone and frantically hit the record button before I lost the thought. It was the voice that told me I could when all the odds said I couldn’t.

It helped me believe that dreams do come true. That sharing truth is healing. That being open is rewarding. And that someone, someday, was going to be really glad that I did this. Because they’d believe all that truth too. And it would change them like it had changed me.

I know it helped me, steered me and sailed me peacefully along, as I constantly tried not to ask myself, “What the heck am I doing again?”


Keep in mind, my Dad had JUST died. I had seen it.

I was still grieving.

I was still going through detox.

I was still going through life.

I wrote through tears.

I wrote through big smiles. I wrote in front of grumpy mom’s and happy strangers.

I wrote on the very beach that had inspired me to move to California to begin with.

I wrote on nice days, hard days, grey days, beautiful days, and every day in between.

I sent countless phone calls to voice mail, declined dozens of social adventures and changed my bedtime based on my inspiration tank. Daily.

I wrote with all my heart, all my soul, and every inch of my being. Sunset to sundown. Late into the night. In the middle of the night when I’d wake up with a brain swimming with inspiration. I wrote on set for Ted 2 and I wrote at dinner. I audio-recorded on my phone when I was grocery shopping. I was constantly e-mailing myself, texting myself and leaving myself little notes. I read (and re-read) all the books I could get my hands on. All the books that had inspired my journey.


And now – here I am. Watching it all pay off. Watching my words affecting you, gripping you, teaching you things about yourselves you weren’t sure were possible.


I have to say, it’s humbling.

I love you all. Seriously. If you’re reading this right now, I love you with all of my heart.

I’m doing another workshop at Wanderlust in August.

I can’t wait!

You can also listen to the speech for free for a limited time:

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