The leap I didn’t want to take

As of the new year, my time inside Donovan is over.

Tuesday, December 30th, 2025 was my last day inside Donovan after over nine years of almost constant Tuesday presence (except for the occasional plane ride away from San Diego).  And this came with absolutely no external or obvious reason to stop bringing the transformative programming I’ve been offering for more than a decade.

Let me do my best to explain.

I stand for brilliance, and our continual growth to being and expressing that brilliance.

Our brilliance is our spirit, our essence, our light, our genius – whom we were always meant to be.  It is unique, indestructible and immutable.  Living in our brilliance means fulfilling our potential, being our greatness, offering our most meaningful contribution. In brilliance, we tap into the power of creation and transformation of ourselves and the world.  And each of us are constantly guided into greater alignment with it.

Sometimes, however, that brilliance – whom we’re meant to be – clashes with what we want or what we like or what we believe is right.

These moments invite us to see where our alignment truly lies.  They test whether we stand for what we say we do.

And that’s what I’ve been walking through over the past few weeks.

Because NOTHNG (except my brilliance) was pointing me to leave.  To be crystal clear,

  • adore my work inside Donovan; I mean A-D-O-R-E

  • The staff appreciates it deeply, speaks of the changes they see in the residents and often bends over backwards to enable us to meet, even in difficult circumstances

  • There is no external, logical or sensible reason to stop.  No move, no new project demanding Tuesdays…

  • We had, just the previous week, started a new cohort on Alpha yard and talked about being the program that you join but never leave (“Once you’re in, you’re in.”  Remember that from last month’s newsletter?)

  • On Echo yard, I’ve built stunning, trusting relationships, meeting weekly with many of the folks for over 3, 4 and even 6 years

  • I have witnessed personal, family and community transformations for which words simply don’t exist

And yet, in late November, that undeniable whisper of brilliance delivered the gut punch that turned my life upside down.  I instantly knew it was truth: I was to leave Donovan by the end of the year.

I had a choice.

I could choose to ignore it and cling to what I know, I want and I LOVE…and makes sense.

Or I could trust that this guidance from my brilliance was opening a path to greater greatness – because that’s the only direction brilliance ever points – and do one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, what has felt like an enormous sacrifice. No exaggeration.

Because I stand for brilliance, I knew what was mine to do.

I didn’t like it (to use kind words) but I knew that I knew that it was truth and alignment.

Life offers us moments like this – moments that reveal how deeply we actually trust in what we claim to believe, and what still holds us back from being our fullest light.

We don’t leap because it makes sense; we leap because faith calls us forward.

I’ll tell you.  It sucks.  And it hurts.  And there’s been a ton of grief and mourning.

What is also true is that there is clarity, knowingness, peace, confidence, assurance, power and deep rest – beyond what I could have imagine.

We simply have to be willing to trust and have the courage to jump.

So, I jumped. With snotty tears and almost unbearable heartache.

And now, we get to see to where I fly.

You have a choice:  You can live from what makes sense, or from what is true.  When something deep inside you whispers – or shouts – that it’s time to move, to release, to trust…will you listen?  What might become possible if you trusted that your brilliance only ever leads you toward greater freedom?  Alignment doesn’t always feel good.  But it always leads us home.

PS:  Some of you astute folks will recognize the parallel with the "go to prison" message I received during my prayer and meditation in the summer of 2015, that called me into Donovan.  I didn't catch it until it was called out by a dear friend, whom I actually met at Donovan.

MarietteComment