Once upon a time, I travelled 600 miles to completely bomb.
And it was the best thing that could’ve happened.
It was 2016 and I was in Chicago selling my oils at the Pitchfork Music Festival. I had been selling the oils for six years and had gotten pretty good at it.
But this time I was trying out something new.
It was my first attempt at divination.
I wanted to help people more directly, more potently, than simply selling them an oil.
Here’s what happened.
I had all of these altar items, sacred objects that held significance– feathers and turtle shells, blades and crowns, sea glass and seeds– and I assigned them to the seven Darkwood archetypes.
Each archetype had its own little altar.
My plan was to invite people into my “anointing temple”, have them select the altar that stood out to them, and that would tell me which oil to anoint with.
It was gonna be great. I pictured people lined up just to gaze at these altars and get anointed.
But instead, folks riffled through these little altars like it was a garage sale, holding up my prized turtle shell or my antique hand mirror and asking, “how much”?
All. Day. Long.
I tried to explain the technique. I made little instructional signs. I went hoarse inviting people to give it a go.
Nothing.
Mortified, frustrated, I had come all the way to Chicago only to flop.
That night as I lay awake in bed stressing out and feeling dumb, the muse visited me and whispered in my ear.
And the next day my whole life changed.
The answer was, you guessed it, right under my nose.
It was the scent, the very thing that makes the anointing oils so enchanting, relatable, and attractive, that was the oracular tool.
I started that second day hopeful.
I approached the vendors set up next to me. There were three of them, good friends as it turned out.
Instead of having them select an altar, I offered a blind smelling of the oils. Without looking at the labels, they smelled each anointing oil. After they’d each selected one, I told them about the matching archetype, and they teared up.
The scent of the oils had easily revealed the truth of their being, the nature of their path.
And to have someone, a stranger, so easily describe it seemed almost like a trick. They wondered how I knew.
Divination, baby.
That was nine years ago.
Do I wish I hadn’t spent a whole day flopping? I mean, yeah.
But it was worth it, to innovate something unique, to trust my innate creativity, and to know for sure that when this girl falls, she gets right back up.
Yes indeed.
So, what’s flopping for you right now?
What’s not working out at all?
Where in your life have you had to admit defeat and face the fact that you’re gonna have to start over and do it really differently next time?
That’s the sweet spot, the magic moment, the point at which innovation, creativity, and soul growth is at your fingertips.
So, get on up, start over, and try it another way.
All you did was meet a teacher, a person, place, or thing that taught you something; what not to do.
I’m grateful for every single person who came through my booth and asked how much my turtle shell was.
They were all teachers, guiding me toward something incredible.
Just because something isn’t easy does not mean it isn’t a massive part of your destiny.
Your destiny.
Be grateful for the flops, now you know what not to repeat.
Thank your teachers.
And keep going.
love and perseverance,
xo
kv
PS: thanks to my dear Nicole McConville who took this image and whose photography helped me so much in 2016!
