If imitation is the highest form of flattery, why does it sting?
There’s a particular kind of ache that comes from seeing your work, your words, your energy mirrored back on someone else’s feed or platform without acknowledgement. Not because you need credit for every idea, but because you know what it took to get there. The lived experience. The heartbreak. The healing. The time it took to turn something intangible into something that could be shared.
It’s not about ownership in the traditional sense. It’s about frequency. You can feel when something is embodied, and you can feel when it’s not. Language can be borrowed, but the energy behind it cannot. That’s what people are actually responding to when they feel moved by something. Not just the words or the image, but the soul behind it.
Social media has made this more complicated. It rewards repetition and replication. It makes it easy to imitate and then label it a trend. But behind most of these so-called “trends” is someone who said or did something new, something real, before anyone else did. Someone who took a risk to say the thing out loud. And most of the time, that person gets left out of the conversation entirely.
This doesn’t just happen online. It happens in conversations, in community spaces, in the quiet ways people absorb what you’ve offered and reflect it back without the roots that gave it meaning. Sometimes it’s intentional, but often it’s unconscious. And that is a reflection of a world that moves so fast, it forgets to honor where things come from. But sometimes that forgetfulness erases the very depth that made the work powerful in the first place.
We live in a world that prizes performance over process. Where speed is valued over depth. And that leaves very little room for the sacredness of becoming. The people who rush to imitate are often trying to skip the vulnerable part. The uncertainty, the silence, the time it takes to become the real thing. But that’s the part that makes it true. That’s the part you cannot fake.
But here’s the thing: the people who imitate without doing the inner work might get attention for a little while. They might gain followers. But their work will never truly land, because it isn’t rooted. And people feel that, even if they don’t know how to name it.
So if you’re someone like me who has seen others copying and benefitting from their work, let yourself feel what you feel. Name the sting. But don’t stop. Don’t silence yourself. Don’t become guarded. Let it bring you even closer to your source. Let it sharpen your clarity and deepen your integrity. The world doesn’t need more noise. It needs more people in true alignment.
Keep creating from that place within you that can’t be copied. That quiet knowing. That lived wisdom. Your soul. Let them mimic the surface if they want. You carry the root. You carry the real thing.
And for me, I find that root - my soul, my clarity, my inspirations - in meditation. It’s where I go to listen. To remember who I am when the world gets loud. It’s what clears the static so I can hear my own voice again. So I can choose integrity over imitation. Devotion over performance.
Meditation won’t stop people from copying, but it will anchor you in a way that makes it impossible to be shaken by it. It helps you stay grounded in your center, speak from your center, create from your center. It helps you keep showing up rooted in authenticity.
And from there, no one can touch you.
Are you ready to Become Lucky?
Becoming Lucky isn’t a course in the traditional sense. It’s a meditation experience. A daily practice. A return. It’s designed to meet you where you are and gently guide you back to the part of you that already knows the way.
For 30 days, you’ll reconnect with your inner rhythm, reset your nervous system, and start to notice the small shifts that create big change. Not by efforting, but by softening. Not by pushing, but by tuning in. It’s about becoming more present, more magnetic, more you.
Because luck doesn’t arrive when everything is perfect. It unfolds when you’re aligned. When you’re clear. When you’re willing to listen.
This experience was created to help you remember that. And I’d love for you to be part of it.