Since my rant last week, I’ve been thinking… I was at my wits end, throwing my hands up in the air and waving them like…well…like I care. I have a ton of care in my heart, as I think many of us do. We are not ok with watching our country’s shit show from the side lines but maybe we’re not quite sure what we can do, what difference we can actually make, and exactly how to go about making it.
It’s simple. Eat the ice cream. Learn to play the drums. Choose a college in Hawaii for no other reason than it’s in Hawaii. Don’t worry about what you look like when you dance. Smile and laugh whenever possible. When someone accuses you of not taking life seriously enough, reply, “Thank goodness.”
After ten days of solo travel, one hell of a podcast interview, and once again being contacted by many sexual trauma survivors, I am feeling free, sad, compassionate, burdened, happy, grateful, and like I need more coffee.
There I was. Painting/dancing, high side-pony whipping this way and that, yelling/singing the song Leavingby Yes, when I turned to notice my 17-year-old daughter had walked in and totally busted me in this state of artistic genius/madness.
Two weeks ago, I shared my biggest secret with the world, and a change has occurred within me. I feel different. I look in the mirror and I look different to myself. I'm not sure I can give this change a name, but I can give you a few examples of what's happening: