by Beth Siegel
images by Gillian Hunter Photography & Luna Münn Photography
Janne
/pronounced Ya-na/
Robinson
Uses her art to lend voice to those who have yet to find their truth, acceptance and strength in their own.
Bold, courageous, fiery, she creates and holds “unassailable space” in the rise of modern feminism through her raw prose, beat poetry, and film. At times, Janne’s particular flavor of fire has teeth that do not come with a warning sign and may “unapologetically” bite. Yet through her unique lexicon of duality, she breathes strength and softness, playfulness and acceptance, tenderness and boldness into the voice of the divine feminine. She says:
My dharma is to share slabs of my heart, to be really vulnerable, really open and to be this messenger and permission for the human experience. I’m a woman, so a lot of it is about being a woman, but it can be for anyone.
Janne Robinson
Janne’s warm, gentle smile and relaxed confidence are well matched to her surroundings, as she sits comfortably in Surf Church, her cozy, cabiny home. Her wild, lioness-like blonde hair, and ever-changing ocean-blue eyes elicit a feeling that she is calm like placid water, yet there’s a palpable undercurrent of fire within her.
During our time together, I take her in, sitting in this home that distinctly reflects her journey and where she is now; she is self-aware, joyfully intentional with an undeniable wild streak.
Janne is a poet, author, speaker, coach, director, CEO of her media and apparel brand: “This is for the Women”, activist, surfer, and a “Woman of Distinction.” She immediately drew me in with her presence and her invitation to accept ourselves and accept each other for who we really are, not who we pretend to be.
Raised in Canada surrounded by feminine energy, Janne attributes much of her gumption to her mom:
She’s a force of nature to be reckoned with. I think about the impact that I’ve had in my life and it’s a toe in the footprint of my mother. An airplane mechanic for many years—old boys club warrior with shamanic roots. My mother’s existence and presence, when she was teaching or not teaching me, has influenced me greatly.
Janne Robinson
Even now, in my mom’s presence I ground so deeply into who I am because of the richness of our connection.
My mom is gay, so I had two amazing moms growing up and have taken so much of who I am from them.
Janne proudly asserts that these women, including a mentor who came into her life six years ago, provided, “a straight fucking vein to spirit, straight vein to source, straight vein to what is sacred.” In turn, Janne gives recognition of their truths within her written words.
BETH: Your poem, “I Am a Woman of Distinction, You Will Feel Me When I Walk Into the Room” is a profound piece. Tell me a little more about it.
JANNE: I wrote it in Barbados, about four years ago. I previously had written “This Is For the Women Who Don’t Give a Fuck,” which was a really powerful anthem. It had teeth, and it took bites. There’s lots of shock value. I think that my feminism at first was done in a really strong, masculine way of trying to create space in that umph way. At the time I wrote this (“I Am A Woman of Distinction”) I was thinking there’s so much importance in feminism with softness and with grace. I wanted to write a piece that would flow like poetry and still be an anthem to empower women to see their light. For me that poem is about women owning their light.
BETH: I think that’s a beautiful, beautiful message. Can you give me a couple moments of your life when you believe you really stepped into your light as a woman of distinction?
JANNE: The first thing that comes to mind is the first time I was asked to do any kind of public speaking. I had done some speaking at workshops and retreats, but this felt more official. It had a stage and a green room—it was being photographed and filmed. The day before, I was reviewing my talk with Mark Groves, a friend of mine who was throwing the event. I started to fumble and get really nervous. The event was called “Masters of the Universe” The whole thing was, to be master of the universe—you master who you are. You master your authenticity, that makes you a leader, and that makes you shine.
So I was just sharing my story and got really nervous about it and almost didn’t want to do it. I got up on that stage and I thought, “I’m just talking about myself. I literally cannot do this wrong. If I don’t say something or I do say something, it’s me.”
I remember saying that “I share slabs of my heart with this world for a living,” and the whole audience clapped and my body completely relaxed and let go, and I was able to just be there. Then I was funny, and I was cracking jokes, and I stepped off that stage and broke a context of who I thought I was and where I could go.
I’m still continuously learning. I recently was asked to speak to a couple thousand people and the same thing happened because we have our context of what we’ve experienced, what we think that we’re capable of, and then we continue to break it. So the first moment that showed up for me was that of really owning and step-ping into that space.
It’s so fucking important that women take up space right now. Even if we’re shaking, sometimes taking up space doesn’t look like being confident.
Other moments of stepping into my light? A big piece that I’m actually currently in—so I still feel like I’m a caterpillar in—is this shift in owning fully that I am a woman with a big heart—who grew up communicating and feeling fluidly, like water, like breathing. This part of me was continuously put in a box and told it was too much or too intense for most of my life. Small hearts who never felt safe to feel or speak often don’t under-stand hearts that contain mountains. I listened to the people who didn’t understand my heart and expression for a long time, and had shame around my capacity to express, and love, and feel, and go deep, and softening, and surrendering. I’m shedding that—I now understand this is my great strength. That making people uncomfortable with my voice is the greatest gift I can give them.
BETH: Share with me what has influenced you and what inspires you?
JANNE: My early twenties were pretty heavy. I got pregnant right when I landed my dream internship and was in the process of moving to British Colombia to start again. I left my old home in the prairies and experienced starting over in a town where I didn’t know anyone. I went through being a starving artist—which lost its romanticism very quickly. I discovered the difference between aloneness and loneliness. I lost someone to suicide—which is a lesson none of us ever want to sign up for in this life. I struggled through understanding my worth as an artist and becoming and embracing who I am as a woman and artist—(laughs) I still am nearing thirty.
I think that the importance of balance, play, joy and what enlivens me is something big that I give myself to right now and for the last three years. Surfing is my direct connection and telephone line to my spirit, my playfulness and my curiosity.
Sun. Sand. Water. Waves. Pure magic. 
Janne lives in Cardiff By The Sea
What I love about surfing, when you think about a wave—it comes pulsing from the center of the Earth to-wards you. And when you’re in a wave, you’re inside the core of it, connected to Earth and energy and dancing. It’s about dance—truly, I feel like surfing is like dancing on waves with the ocean.
For me, the wildlife is a huge part of it. When I first moved here, I would walk with my cup of coffee and my surf board for about 15 minutes underneath these huge towering red and yellow and black and white limestone cliffs and watch the water dripping down. It’s sunrise, so the sky is pink and the water is gold and turquoise and crystal clear. There’s orange Garibaldi fishes. I would paddle out and pelicans would glide over silently like God. The other day there was a humpback whale five feet away from me that breached, covered in barnacles, and a pod of 30dolphins that came and swam around me. The dolphins, they’re always playing around you, but there was a moment years ago in the morning first-light energy where this dolphin jumped up completely out of the water behind me. I looked over my shoulder, gleaning that gold light, and I just saw its whole body up in the air, and then it fell into the water. I was just, “Oh my God.”
Feeding her soul 
Connection with water… connection with spirit
I don’t actually write that much about surfing, but surfing is how I allow myself to be in a state of clarity and receptivity and wellness. To be able to go into this world and experience myself and everyone else. I wish and want the whole world to have whatever their surfing is. To be able to have that balance and that reminder of joy.
But I gain inspiration from all human experiences. A lot of my, not poetry, but other pieces that I share are around connections.
BETH: Well, obviously water is a huge part of your life. And you’re a Cancer, so your home is a huge part of your life. What are some practices or rituals that you do to keep yourself aligned or grounded?
JANNE: The first thing I do every morning is connect with my body and my spirit—right away and then I give myself to this world.
I like to have a really beautiful song that’s my alarm, so that when I wake up I’m feeling excited about moving into the day. Working rituals are really important.
I wake up and surf and create time to cook a nourishing meal or go eat good food somewhere. And just have some space for myself. If I feel like writing, if I feel like connecting with a friend and having a coffee, I like to have that morning time. And then my afternoons and evenings are when I flow into being in service to this world.
The ritual of being in the water every day. The ocean, although it’s grounding, is actually the yang, There’s adrenaline and sometimes, like right now, there’s five-to seven-foot waves. So for me, grounding practices. Yoga is super huge. Stretching. Dance.
BETH: So, you really do “drink the ocean for breakfast and kiss the red dirt for dessert?”
JANNE: Ha ha, I do.
BETH: Explain to me your duality between the “fuck” and the “softness” sides of you.
JANNE: I definitely feel 80 percent softness and sweet, and there’s a lot of gentleness and empathy and compassion to my spirit. But yeah, the fire. I get really passionate, super passionate and kind of ragey about the things that I see need to be changed or addressed in this world. I’m very expressive; communication has always been really important for me.
I’m not really sure when I first incorporated swearing in to my art but I think that swearing is a great tool. It can be used to shock people and make people pay attention. It snaps us awake in some ways, and there’s a reason I used it for my book title, This Is For the Women Who Don’t Give a Fuck. It’s bold, it’s big, and we need women to take up space right now. I think it gets people’s attention. There’s depth to it, and I think it can hook in attention and then allow a space for something to be heard that’s really powerful.
I hear parents saying, “don’t say a bad word.” I don’t know, part of me goes, “are swear words really that bad?” There’s a lot worse things happening in this world. I’ve said that a couple of times: “You don’t want your daughter seeing the word ‘fuck’ on my book or my shirt or my mug, but isn’t it more important to empower women to take up space and use their voices with the state of the world and everything that’s going on?” It’s important that we empower, educate and create space for women to walk tall.
BETH: I think it also gives people permission to have a different perception. They become more accepting of themselves because it doesn’t create the story that everything is always perfect.
JANNE: Right.
BETH: I love that you write both the shock and the soft. Tell me about the evolution of your writing.
JANNE: I think that part of my vulnerability is also being straight from the hip as a woman and as a writer. My writing voice has largely evolved there. I’m not always going to say it right, and sometimes I’m writing something, and I don’t even know where I’m going. I don’t edit things. I truly have maybe edited a couple of things in my whole life. How things show up, I believe, is how they should go out into this world, as-is. I think that everything that I write is just a truth that is inside of me.
I did actually at one point try and neutralize my writing. About five years ago, I wrote this piece for Elephant Journal and I was trying to appeal to everybody. The editor I was working with said, “Good art isn’t neutral – it’s not. Good art, it makes a statement and then allows the world to have a conversation with that statement.” I took that to heart.
I believe as an artist and a writer, my job is 50 percent I sit down as if I’m sitting on the moon alone and no one is ever going to read my words, and I write what is inside of my heart. And then the second that I publish a book or hit send, I let go, because the other 50 percent is the entire world receiving and experiencing that art and making it about them or reflecting or having that conversation. And that 50 percent isn’t about me. The beautiful piece is acknowledging that.
The other part that has evolved for me is I’ve learned the why of my work isn’t to be a writer. You know, the why of my work is around personal truth and empowering people to be authentic. So for a while when I was writing, and I was getting all these offers to speak or host retreats or coach people, I had so much resistance because I was like “I’m straying from my dharma.” But I now know it’s not the writing; it’s the empowerment. Writing, coaching, speaking, I’ve realized they all are aligned within me.
I want to empower people to live their truth and be authentic. Our own authenticity is a key to healing disease. I think that when we’re out of alignment, it manifests as stress and disease in our bodies. We are happier humans when we are working, living, loving, walking, and existing in the truth of who we are.
My walk and impact that I want to make is continuing to be in my truth and create from my truth. And if that gives one person permission to be in that space, which it already has, I’m good.
Sometimes when I write pieces like “I Am A Woman Of Distinction,” it’s about the woman I already am, and sometimes about the woman I want to become. I think it’s important to be read, and to be felt in the bodies of women as both. It’s about owning our light.
It’s about presence and authenticity. It’s an invitation to walk tall; to dance; to shimmy and shake; to love through our lives. It’s a call to know that we are worthy. Oh, so deliciously worthy.
Visit Janne’s website
jannerobinson.com