Passage
for the adventures that require more than travel

The journey begins December 19th! Will you be joining us?

Have you ever noticed how the story always ends early?


“Congratulations, you killed the troll!!!”


But…who comes and cleans up the entrails and mess afterward, exactly?


Is there some team that comes along behind in shiny silver suits, with flamethrowers and bleach and a craft services table? And can I have their phone number???


Because in the story of your life, there is no cleanup team.


Actually, no, it’s even worse than that.


YOU are the cleanup team.


You are the one with bleach. No flamethrower (like, it’d be nice, but probably cause more problems than it solves), definitely no craft services table (I mean, you can also have this, but you’re setting it up and taking it down, and do we really need more disposable cutlery when there’s a perfectly good fork in the kitchen?), and the only shiny silver suit is the one you are fabricating from aluminum foil at 3am because you smoked too much weed.


And who wants to read that story?


Well, actually…I kinda do.


2020 was supposed to be my year.


The word was chosen with care (unforgettable, so feel free to blame me), the plans were laid, the journey was lightly mapped.


In pencil.


I mean, I have enough expertise to know that the plan always changes.


I was just unprepared for the scope of those changes.


Every day brought still more change. And the speed of it was absolutely devastating.


Speaking events? Cancelled.


My vow renewal? Cancelled.


My 40th birthday? Still no way to cancel that, but I didn’t get much of a bash this year, either.


My business? Dried up almost instantly. Planning is not a thing most people do when you don’t know what tomorrow will look like.


And these were just the big things.


The small things, that build the fabric of our lives? Those are still on hiatus.


Coffee shops.


Massages.


Smiling at strangers.


Taking my children to museums.


I cannot say when any of these things will return.


And the thing is, the material reality of my day to day life? It didn’t even change that much. We’ve always been weirdo fringe lunatics (aka homeschoolers), so I didn’t even have to make the huge sweeping changes so many of you did.


In the most practical ways, I feel profoundly fortunate to have built my life the way I have, because, in this past year, it’s been my foundation, even as the earth beneath my feet turned to sand.


Again and again, I’ve returned to the predictable rhythms of my life with profound gratitude for having had the foresight to somehow know what I would need this year, and what I would find unnecessary. (We haven’t had a car all year.)


The truth is that cleaning up isn’t just messy. It’s also painfully inglorious.


If you haven’t spent at least part of 2020 wondering why you’re doing all this shit anyway, you haven’t been paying attention.


What shit, you ask?


Well, that is likely to be highly variable, but you know it, deep in the churning pit of your stomach.


It’s the work you hate doing for clients that you don’t like.


It’s the family Zoom calls with subtle (or not so subtle) racist banter that you’re just supposed to accept. Hey, at least there’s no dry turkey?


It’s the fear of not being the right kind of liberal or feminist or whatever, and getting cancelled. (And let’s be clear — this is a legit fear.)


It’s a political system that long ago excluded the actual voter in any meaningful way.

It’s endemic police brutality, that will be neither changed nor prosecuted.


It’s heartbreaking brokenness, everywhere you look.


And you can’t personally fix any of that.


What’s left then, is this kind of personal internal tug-of-war.


Do I have a right to be happy in the face of so much misery?


What do I say, what do I do, how do I act when I don’t know what’s coming next?


Oh yeah, and WTF do I tell my children when I don’t know what’s next?


Did I mention that I am really conflicted about my personal happiness?


These questions are especially loud if you deal with mental health or chronic health issues, neurodivergence, or anything else that makes you “other.”


There’s also some math involved. (It’s pedantic, but hear me out.)


This is the ACTUAL end of the decade.


We like to argue about this one in the lead-up, because ending on zero feels strange to us. But in our strange human accounting of time, we don’t start at zero, we end there.


So this is the end of an era. AND the beginning.



We can’t wish away 2020.


Even with a vaccine, the Corona virus is still imprinted in the fabric of our lives.


We can only plan so much, for so long, because there is still uncertainty. We are still reluctant to commit to anything more than a few weeks away, because who the hell even knows if we’ll all be alive then…and it’s not completely fatalistic.


AND.


And it the beginning of something new.


On Monday, we celebrate The Great Conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn. Occurring once every twenty years or so, it is the closest the Conjunction has been in more than 300 years.


It is a Passage.


From there, to here.


From then, to now.


And it is time for you to move through it, and beyond.


It is time for you to establish your foundation.


It is time for you to know, without hesitation, what you are supposed to do next.


It is time for you to answer the questions that haunt you, because you already know the damn answers.


It is time to see what happens AFTER you face your dragons.


Passage is a FREE three-day immersive experience. 


Trust me, you’ve never done anything like this before.


Everything is optional.


Nothing is required but what feels good.


You might play a game, record a video, write something, find treasure. Who knows?


Only you.


We begin Saturday.


Are you in?

The journey begins December 19th! Will you be joining us?

 © 2020, Briar Harvey