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“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with
your one wild and precious life?”
The voice behind the blog
I've been called a free spirit,
a piece of work, a living cartoon, clean freak, space cadet, earth angel, dizzy bitch and the Queen of Shit. All said by people who love me—the last one footnoted as “not in that moment.” Thanks to eight years of parochial school, I have a Master’s in Guilt and a Ph.D. in Shame. The word Self was always followed by "ish" and never by the word "care." Yet there’s more.
The cultural collective and my beloved mother made sure I was a Co-Dependent Black Belt with a raging people-pleasing addiction. Maybe that’s like saying you’re from California and also from Los Angeles.
My first attempt to break away from the past was radical rebellion,
a tack that generated colorful stories but no forward motion toward health, wholeness and peace. Anything headed in the wrong direction at 100 mph eventually crashes, at which point I realized the past still had me by the short hairs. And that’s where the spiritual path began, the long and winding road back to Me.
Not long ago I decided to apply for TSA Pre early boarding status. When I told my husband they wanted certified legal documents of every name change, he lowered his head, looked over his glasses and said dryly, “Well my dear, for you that’s been quite the journey. You even made one up along the way.” Indeed, it has been quite the journey. And now it’s time to start sharing the stories.