The other day I was talking to a woman who mentioned that moment in life when a woman takes a leap. You know, that leap - and for some of us, the first of those leaps.

The leap where you don't necessarily know what you are jumping to. But you're filled with the yearning to leap. Somehow you look around and find you are no longer in your life. Not yours. This is no longer alive for you. This is no longer a life you can stay in, if you're to live your life. You feel like your life is beckoning to you. You feel like your aliveness is beckoning to you. So you leap. Even if the landing isn't in sight. Even if you don't know how steep the drop is.

Even if nobody understands. Even if you don't understand. Even if it means changing one big thing. Even if it means changing everything.

All you trust is your inner knowing, your hunger to leap.

To risk a new trajectory.

You leap, but not truly away.

You leap towards yourself. This is the "trampoline" at San Marcos La Laguna, on Lake Atitlan. We took this big "leap" last summer.

And the women who come to my retreat are (too) good at holding me accountable, so when I said I'd go first if only I had my swimsuit - - they produced spare clothes on the spot! So we leapt.

Twice.

Once to overcome our fear.

The second time was for joy. If the thought of leaping towards yourself resonates with you - if you've done it, if you want to, if you're in mid-air --- I'd love for you to join us in the women's circle on Lake Atitlan, Guatemala. And if you like, take this leap too!