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Transcript: Episode 1 — "The Committee"
"Are you crazy?"
"You're over 50 and you want to start a business that is totally different from what you've been doing for decades?"
"Remember you have three mouths to feed."
"Don't be selfish. Use your degree and get a job."
Does that sound familiar?
You know what you're doing now is killing you. But that voice tells you doing something else would be worse.
So you stay. You wait. You keep going through the motions until something big enough from the outside forces you to stop.
A serious illness. A loss.
For me it was Jersey. My soul dog.
She was diagnosed with cancer in 2021. I know she left because it was the only thing that would stop me from going back — to the job, to the script, to the performance that was slowly finishing me. Nothing else would have worked. That needed to happen.
When she passed two years later, I became homeless.
I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't know what made me feel alive.
But I knew one thing. I'm not going back.
Have you been there?
You know what you don't want. But every time something you actually want shows up — the voice returns.
"Are you insane?"
You might not catch it. It doesn't announce itself. It just sounds like reason. Like maturity. Like your own thoughts.
That is the Inherited Script.
Rules implanted by what I call The Committee. Parents. Family. Religion. Culture. Society.
Written for survival. Fit in or else.
Right now my Committee sounds like this:
"You only have eight months of savings left. You need to start looking for a job. You have three dogs. They need to eat. Don't be selfish and irresponsible."
"You're delusional. You can't make money by singing, dancing, and acting. You're 51. Your knees are squeaking. Be an engineer. Good salary. Respectable."
Dear Committee…
Shut the fuck up.
Here's what actually happens when I do what they say I can't.
2017. Some close friends left the company. I wanted something better too.
But instead of looking for a job, I just — trusted the universe.
I didn't send a single application.
Sound delusional? Yes, it was woo-woo.
Around that time my cousin's wedding was coming up. They asked me to choreograph a dance. Plan a performance for guests.
So I sang. I danced.
A role that tripled my salary found me. Unsolicited.
2024. Homeless. Staying at a friend's off-grid cottage. No money. No plan. Just sad.
I had a dream — Jersey transformed into a puppy that looked just like her. Same color. Same presence. Days later I saw that exact puppy on Facebook, up for adoption.
My friends said don't go meet her. You'll just hurt yourself.
I went. Drove one and a half hour.
I met her. I knew. I asked the rescuer to hold her. Until I got the money and the house.
I didn't know when. But I know I will.
Then I went back to that cottage, a different person. Jazi who already has the puppy, Jihan. I started singing. Then dancing.
And I wrote an ebook about manifestation — the method I used to manifest money and a house to adopt a puppy.
Three months later the government changed the retirement fund policy. Money I didn't know I could access came through. I got a house with a yard.
I brought her home.
It felt awesome.
So what am I going to do right now?
Same thing.
I'm going to sing. I'm going to dance. And I just finished the syllabus for the improved version of that ebook — the Reality Production Protocol. Six weeks. I'm casting the founding cohort now. More information is in the description.
I've been trying to figure out life since I was a child. Since the first time someone told me who I was supposed to be.
When my grandma said, "You're not a boy. You're a girl."
At 51, I found something that works. Not a theory. My own life is the proof.
The Committee isn't going anywhere. Those voices don't disappear. But once you hear them clearly — really hear them — they stop sounding like your thoughts. They start sounding like someone else's broadcast running in your head without permission.
Change the channel.
Tune into evidence that is already in your life. I bet you've already done things they said you couldn't. You just haven't looked at that footage long enough.
I'm about to show you mine.
"Are you crazy?"
I'll show you how crazy I am.
My name is Jazi.
I'm done performing someone else's script.
Rewrite. Rehearse. Roll.
Watch the Full Transmission
Next episode: First Contact — coming soon.
Join the cohort: Reality Production Protocol at JadiJe Studio