I Forgot I’d Even Asked. A $100K Answer Showed Up Anyway
I’ve come to terms with this equation: Me + Beach = Lobster
It’s true. It’s not that I don’t love the beach, but it’s a foregone conclusion that more than a few minutes spent waveside is a recipe for a sunburn.
That doesn’t stop me from thinking about the beach in a poetic, sitting-on-the-shore-with-a-glass-of-wine kind of way.
But my beach musings yesterday seeded a different idea, a very specific, this-is-actually-how-co-creation-works kind of story.
I’ve never heard manifesting and co-creating with the Universe told in this way, so I have to share.
The Goal (And What My Brain Did With It)
On May 31st, I started thinking about setting a summer goal. I wanted to commit to achieving something really significant. I’ve got plenty of time and space to do the work, so I figured why not go big.
My first idea, “book $100k in revenue this summer.”
I’ve done this before in my business. I know that I can. Essentially, I feel certain that I can hit that goal.
But it didn’t excite me.
And because I’m all about playing with energy, I kept digging.
Next came the thought, “but what if I bank it? Cash in my account. By August 31st?”
There’s a difference, and my body felt it immediately.
The first was a “spreadsheet goal.” Doable. Practical.
But the other felt like an exciting challenge. I’ve never done it before.
And if I actually achieved it, the impact would be REAL.
It might actually change the shape of my life, clean up some divorce-induced messes, and prove something I’ve been trying to prove to myself for a while now.
My body said yes to the goal of banking the cash before my mind could object.
But my mind caught up quickly.
The first thing I did was open a calculator, curious.
If I sold my signature Flowprint offer, a $197 assessment that helps female founders, entrepreneurs, and solopreneurs understand their unique decision making blueprint, how many would I need to sell to hit $100,000?
I want you to sit with that number for a second, because I did.
508 individual transactions.
In 90 days.
It felt instantly impossible.
I felt the familiar burden of revenue generation settle in and heard my internal voice utter the chorus.
“Here we go. Guess I’m carrying this one alone.”
Which, as I would come to understand over the next 48 hours, was exactly the problem.
The More Powerful Question
I’ve been an entrepreneur for over a decade.
I build businesses by design, literally, using tools like Human Design and Kolbe to help women understand how they’re actually wired, so they can build and grow their business more easily in concert with their wiring, instead of fighting themselves.
I know a lot about alignment. I teach it. And I live it. Most days.
So instead of laughing at the absurdity of the 508 Flowprints math, I asked a more powerful question.
Over the many years of doing this work, I’ve realized that when the math crushes me, it usually means I’m asking the wrong question.
My mentor Kelly Ruta talks about the power of asking a more powerful question.
Here’s what surfaced:
“What if I could find just ONE client who would pay me $100,000 this summer?”
Next, I started looking for evidence that this was even possible. Not from the internet. From my own life.
It’s what I always do next when my brain is searching for what’s possible.
I’d worked inside of $100k contracts at that level before. Writing Kolbe-infused job descriptions for growing teams. Coaching entrepreneurs on sales, marketing, and funnels. Up-leveling leadership, restructuring teams, putting the right people in the right seats inside companies already doing serious revenue.
The evidence was there.
And I knew that I could deliver that tier of value again if the correct project came along.
Always In Conversation
Here’s what I’ve come to understand about myself: I am always in conversation with the Universe.
Not formally. Not with a candle lit and a journal open and an intention set.
Just constantly, in the background of my daily life, asking, noticing, moving through the world in a state of ongoing co-creation. It’s like breathing for me.
I didn’t write the Universe a love letter that afternoon. I just asked a powerful question, almost under my breath, and then let it sit, and went about my evening.
What I wasn’t conscious of in that moment, was because I’d asked, the Universe had already started moving and rearranging to answer my question.
Because that’s the thing about being in constant conversation.
I don’t always remember that my questions are being constantly worked on by the Universe.
The responses aren’t instant. I can’t see the progress bar. So I just ask, trust, and stay in motion.
Or at least, that’s what I’m supposed to do.
The gap I’m discovering, the one jury duty cracked open on day two of this experiment, isn’t between asking and believing.
I ask. I genuinely ask.
The gap is between asking and genuinely believing and trusting that I’m going to receive.
The Ocean (What Co-Creation Actually Looks Like)
Here’s what I’ve been sitting with since my jury duty realization.
Imagine you’re at the beach, standing on the shoreline where the waves meet your toes. The waves are coming in and going out in rhythm.
And even though you’re not thinking about it, every single wave is moving the sand beneath your feet. Shifting it. Rearranging it.
Doing something you could never do yourself, grain by grain, particle by particle, with a force and intelligence that has nothing to do with your effort.
You don’t control the waves. You couldn’t if you tried.
But you’re not passive either. You’re standing there present. You’re in relationship with something larger than yourself, and you’re asking.
That continuous co-creation relationship with the Universe is doing real work on your behalf, whether you’re paying attention or not.
Now imagine you’re carrying an oversized, super cute beach bag with flamingos on it.
And in that beach bag are dozens of glass bottles.
In every bottle is a message you’ve written: an ask, an intention, a question you’ve put out into the Universe. Each conversation you’ve had. Every action you’ve taken. They’re all messages.
At this point you have two jobs.
Walk the shoreline. Throw out and pick up returning bottles.
Not stand in one spot waiting for the tide to bring everything back to exactly where you’re planted.
Move. Take the next action. Have the next conversation. Complete the next circuit.
Because the bottles won’t come back to the exact spot where you’re standing.
They’ll come back to where you are heading.
So back to my gap.
I put the powerful question out. The universe started moving.
And then I literally forgot that I’d thrown out my bottle.
Instead, I kept them all in my cute beach bag, and I started trudging down the shoreline, trying to personally hand-deliver every single one.
Because somewhere underneath everything, I don’t actually trust that the tide is going to bring them back.
So I take on the work of doing everything myself. Making it hard. Resisting the belief that I’m going to get my bottle back Universe assisted.
The Couch (Or: The First Bottle Came Back)
That evening I was having a relaxed conversation with my mom. Wine, dogs, couch, summer breezes.
We were thinking out loud together about one of my longest standing client relationships and how I might continue supporting this client going forward with some of their newest challenges.
I wasn’t strategizing around or trying to solve the $100k question. I’d forgotten I’d even asked it.
But somewhere in the middle of that conversation, an idea arrived that I absolutely did not manufacture.
A way to bring my work into his world at a scale I hadn’t considered before.
Not a small engagement. The kind of opportunity that, if it it worked out, would result in one client paying me $100k cash this summer.
And I already had the relationship I needed for the introduction to be possible.
My mom and I looked at each other.
Why not? What do I have to lose?
I might as well ask.
(An aside, because this matters: part of my design is that my best ideas don’t come to me at my desk. They arrive when I’m in motion, in conversation, doing something else entirely. I wasn’t thinking about my question in that moment. I was living. This is what it looks like when someone operates from their actual wiring rather than existing inside someone else’s blueprint. If you’re curious what your wiring looks like, grab your flowprint here to take the first step (FlowprintFormula.com.)
My $100k question had it’s first possible answer.
I’d asked a powerful question. I’d thrown a bottle into the ocean. And the answer arrived while I was sippin’ rosé on the couch, in a relaxed conversation.
A bottle returned.
More Bottles Return
This is where it gets real for me.
On day three of this experiment, I was doing something completely unrelated to my $100K question.
I was setting up a payment portal to pay out a referral fee to my friend Molly. Just completing a circuit. Honoring what I owed. Walking the shoreline.
In the flow of that conversation, Molly mentioned she was doing a collaboration this month with another one of the “$100k clients” I’d imagined working with this summer.
So I told her my big ask in a 10x is easier than 2x moment.
She didn’t even pause.
“Oh my God, I can introduce you to exactly the right people at the company.”
I didn’t manufacture that. I didn’t strategize my way to it. I threw a bottle, kept walking, and it came back.
That’s not magic. That’s not luck.
That’s what happens when I stop trying to carry all the bottles in my beach bag trying to personally deliver each one to its destination.
The Question I’m Living Inside
I’m 4 days into an experiment I’m calling co-creation in real time.
The goal is specific. The obstacle is not strategy, not market conditions, not the economy.
The obstacle is this: I am a woman who has spent over a decade building a life and a business through agency, discernment, and self-trust.
I am very good at doing hard things alone.
And I have confused that capability with a complete operating system.
It isn’t one.
The ocean doesn’t need my help moving the water. It needs me to throw the bottles and keep walking.
So here’s the question I’m living inside right now, and I’ll be honest, I don’t have the answer yet:
What would I do differently, what would I ask for, what would I try, if I actually believed the bottles were coming back without my struggle?
I’m finding out this summer. Come walk the shoreline with me.