The Scariest Blog I Have Ever Written. Seriously!

Why scary? 

Hint: It has nothing to do with Halloween.

I have been standing on the edge of a dizzyingly-high metaphorical diving board for about twenty-five years now. 

Not only have I not had the courage to leap off, I haven't even had the guts to let most of you know I'm even on it. 

So here I am, on the edge of this imaginary high dive... hiding in an allegorical closet.

I realize this is kind of ridiculous, but my fear of rejection, reproach, and recrimination is quite real.  It’s dominated me for decades.

This is because I’ve lived an approval-seeking lifetime of pleasant neutrality, but I’ve been paying a price for my non-pot-stirring ways.

I recently came to the realization that I must jump off this board I’ve been perched on since I was a teenager -- and to heck with the consequences. 

Besides, there is the distinct possibility that I may have just built this fear up in my mind over nothing.  

First, The Back Story: For the last year or so, I have been dealing with a series of seemingly unrelated physical maladies. 

Thankfully, none of them have been serious, but they have prevented me from living my life optimally.  From an excruciating frozen shoulder to an infected molar (breaking my streak of pristine dental health), to laryngitis, the flu, a stomach bug, debilitating fatigue, and slews of little sore throats.

This didn’t made sense. I am very health conscious. 

I am the pretty much the jpeg for clean living. 

My doctor, who I’ve visited several times over the last year, ran a passel of tests, confirming that I am indeed exceptionally healthy.  

Then I asked myself what I always do when I’m faced with a challenge: "Why is this happening? What do I need to learn?" and the oldie but goodie, "What is it that I'm not seeing here?"

The answer -- which deep down I've known all along -- appeared instantly. 

"Time to leap off the diving board. Out with it already! Blog it, dude."  I’d like to think that the wisest part of myself uses the “dude” quite liberally, connoting a casual confidence.

The moment -- and I literally mean the moment -- I decided to jump off my invisible high dive a.k.a. write this post,  I instantaneously started to feel better.  Just like that.

I've felt great ever since!  My health has shifted back into balance.

What does the scary high dive stashed in a silly closet represent?

I’ll break it down like this.

We are all here to live authentic lives.  This means different things to different people.  For me, it means that I need to live as highest expression of myself, which is...

Not just someone who is innately optimistic and perennially hopeful, though I am these things, but... 

What it REALLY means is that I am a typical modern woman living in the regular world of  weekly laundry, varsity mothering, intermittent online shopping and gooey bites of vapid entertainment...

Who also happens to have a profound, completely nonsecular, spiritual calling which does not fit into any preexisting religious or spiritual mold. 

That’s it.  I said it.  Finally! 

In the past, when asked, I’ve always meekly admitted that I’m “spiritual.”

These days, "spiritual" to many means, "I believe in a higher power than myself, but I'm not religious."

This is a perfectly fine definition, but for my purposes here, it’s insufficient.

What "spiritual" means to me is that I look at all of life through a Universal/God-consciousness lens at all times.  In every situation, at every moment, no matter how monumental or mundane.

It’s a “calling” because this path is my true life’s purpose. It’s something I MUST pursue.  

Fortunately, the way for me to fulfill it for now is to just keep doing what I’ve been doing for the last two and half years, writing my books and blog, but with this as my focus. 

Everything I’ve done previously has laid the perfect groundwork for this path.  This includes modeling, MTV, and movie making.

I am very grateful to have a small coterie of people who already accept me in this regard, which includes my wonderful family.  Believe me, I know how blessed I am to have their support. 

However, it’s not enough anymore. 

Why?

In order for me to live as the highest expression of myself, I need to be 100% myself, 100% of the time, which means being completely honest about who I am with everyone.

Just the notion of admitting this truth has scared me for ages, but merely saying it is a powerful step for my personal self-expression.

Lady Gaga expresses herself with her crazy meat dress.  Telling you this is my version of a crazy meat dress.

The sheer act of spilling the beans is going to free me in a way that has been long overdue, so long in fact, it was taking a toll on my health.

This revelation isn’t going to change anything between us.

I really do love my neighbor as myself, whether they agree with me or not. 

I'm not at all interested in convincing anyone to share my views.  I'm too polite for that. 

If you want to reach out to me and want to discuss the magical workings of the universe, of course, I will welcome it.

However, I will not to argue.  There is too much negativity out there to create it right here, so if you want a debate,  I'm not your gal. 

Now, perhaps you are surprised by my board-leaping, spiritual closet-exiting, Universal consciousness-living/writing announcement. 

Or perhaps you're not. 

You may be intrigued.

Or totally indifferent.

You may judge. Or scoff.  Or not. 


You may receive it in any number of ways.  I can't control this.  


The important thing is that I’ve finally jumped into my whole truth. 

And you know what?   I am already starting to feel pretty free.

Dude!

The Hope of Ye Olde U2

When I first heard this song, I was fifteen years-old, very impressionable and kinda boy crazy -- a classic combination! I loved to crank this song in my room on my Philco double-cassette stereo and try to sing along.  Being an Alto, I thought I could vocally really get in there with Bono. In hindsight, I probably couldn't. The song's concept of true-romantic-soul-mate, Dublin-style-gray-sky love set to a pulsing drum beat, stirring base, and soaring guitar made me feel incredibly hopeful for the future. This is the song that made me love U2. I still think it's one of their best.

All of these years later, the song is still potent.  I can't say as much for the production values of the video, but I think Bono's look still holds up, New Wave mullet and all (that's right, you heard me).  Thankfully, I am no longer boy crazy, except for the one to whom I'm am happily married.

When I play this song for my kids in my car, my son thinks the refrain is "Two birds eating pie" instead of "Two hearts beat as one." Now when I listen, I laugh and hear his version of the song over the original. The song has taken on a new family-friendly meaning.  Regardless, it still makes me hopeful for the future, probably because "They can't stop the dance" even if it's maybe their "last chance."  The song, to me, is about persistence.  Persistence is another form of hope, whether it be about hope for true love, or two birds sharing a baked fruit-filled desert.

Blog Block Party

Truth be told, I've had what I call a "blog block" since the start of the new year. Now here it is spring and my block still hasn't cleared. I write about the subject of hope. Humor is a component too (yuck-yuck!), because laughing is freakin' wonderful.  Like a soulful narcotic, it gets us high from the inside out. However, I don't limit myself to these two topics.  I need to write about other stuff that I care about like my beloved aging dog or wanting to "save the adverb real bad" since I don't want to see the English language officially slip into oblivion. Sarah Palin's verbal idiocies are in the dictionary now?

"Hi, nice to meet you, I'm Galled."

When 2011 began, I had high hopes for the new year.  I still do. I think my blog block stems from the exceptional amount of intensity brewing around the globe these last few months. For example, talking about hope followed by a knock-knock joke in the wake of the devastation in Japan might appear naive, or worse, insensitive. 

"Doesn't she know the world is going to hell in a hand basket? Doesn't she watch the news?" 

When I shared my concern with a friend who is also a fellow blogger, she said with a smile, "but it's [hope] refreshing." Her comment was refreshing!  Then an artist friend suggested I write about how I'm not writing. I loved this idea too. So here I am blogging about my blog block.

I regard it as a blog spring cleaning. Like spring cleaning, we clear out the dusty corners to make room for the new.  Where there is room for the new, hope will surely follow.  Ideally, in a clown car.