this, my dears, is the moment we've all been waiting for. i'm finally done talking, thinking, trying, failing, crying, screaming into the ethers, and always winding up along -- as if there's something wrong with that. weary, but more aware than ever, i know now that until i actually DO something that's worth infinity times its weight in the value and power i am accused of poaching from its rightful owners, nobody (and he knows who he is) will hear me. possibly my only fear. my only only fear.
the more i reach out for a line of communication to those who once had a mind-body connection within themselves about my vision and my potential, the more i realize, it takes as long to shuck the stink of crazy when you aren't in fact crazy as it does for the average person to process one of lifes more insidious losses. take your pick: death, divorce, job loss, loss of self.
on mother's day i tried to do the one thing ever mother is hardwired to do: bring peace and balance to my family. and because i've taken to predicting on paper the outcome of every interaction i have with the people to whom i am bound the tightest, i have learned that i am right often enough about who is going to do what when under what circumstances that i am here right now.
i'm standing on the edge of the ocean. literally. i'm about to drown in it, metaphorically, because that's what i have to do to convince you and me that it is possible for your average human to walk on water. it all depends upon what you believe about water. not what you think you know about it.
so i'm going to start from scratch. with everything.
starting with transparency.
i am on the oregon coast. i am here to finish what i started on april 6, 2009, which was nothing short of a revolution. it's taken me miles of pacing in circles to parse out the form of this declaration of independence. some people would call that crazy. i call that all balls.
so i'm just warning you all now, since i was way too fucking subtle last time i decided (as opposed to having it done to me or for me) to get lost in my mind and bring passengers on the long road to ruin* a front row seat to my program.