If you want a juicy life, you might have to accept that the way to go is not always entirely rational. You can retract yourself, or you can let yourself go. There are essentially two kinds of responses to life that cut across the usual divisions. Repetitive and walls of hand-written (seriously) text. I am fucking awesome and you are fucking awesome, even if we never do one of the things that Sark lays down in this book as an example of wonderful succulence (gag). And I just don't want any of that all up in my business. I mean, Jesus, think about the fucking stickiness and the sand and my god, the BUGS. I hate the idea of women reading this book and thinking that damn, they have never eaten mangoes naked whilst living alone on a desert island, so they must be missing some fundamental pieces of what makes them alive and powerful and fabulous.
The point is, there is no one size fits all approach to living an authentic and awesome life that makes you happy. Some women find stripping fun and empowering or like the money or ANYTHING. Not every woman finds her true self (or whatever) in wearing a wacky hat or bold colors. Maybe a woman can't/won't/doesn't have the means/doesn't feel safe/doesn't fucking want to go on vacation alone, or walking at midnight, or (I'm paraphrasing) frolicking naked in a field of organic sage. You do what makes you happy, I'll do what makes me happy, and we'll be nice to each other and supportive and authentic. But I have a few issues.įor one, my brand of feminism is that every woman can choose what her best life involves without judgement or criticism. I know she meant it - and I took it - as a compliment, and there are a some good ideas and thoughts within. A friend lent me this book because she said it reminded her of me.
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