Growing Pains

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Life is riddled with little milestones that mark our journey through growing up. Like our first smile, our first step, and first word.
Then there’s our first pubic hair, first kiss, first romp in the sack.
These milestones don’t end with adolescence.
I mean, just the other day, I had my first lift-thigh-fat-to-wipe-vag moment.

Somehow, however, I don’t think Hallmark makes a card for that one…

[ i n d i g o ]

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in the works

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I have quite a few books “in the works”. It’s quite a boastful sentence, that one, but the truth is, “in the works” Just means “in my head.” To be quite frank, it just means “I’ve thought of a cool title and maybe a premise. ”

People ask me what I do for a living, and my favorite thing to tell them is “I’m am writer,” because their head is suddenly filled with fanciful pictures of me sitting in gardens or coffee shops with my laptop – or typewriter because I’m that kind of cool – at book signings, having meetings with agents. Close friends have fantasies about my books becoming the next Harry Potter or Divergent series. When, honestly, I’m sitting on a plane with my wireless keyboard hooked against my iPad, two and a half hours into the flight with absolutely nothing to write. You’d think that being stuck in a one-meter-by-two-meter prison-of-an-airplane-seat is enough to motivate a writer to buckle down and “just write already!” … apparently, that’s not the case.

I’m just forced to watch stupid television on a minuscule screen, stare out the window at turbulent clouds, and try my best to steady my rapid breath – I’m not anxious, I swear. I’m pretty sure there is low oxygen in the cabin. Ok, maybe not – don’t want to panic anybody. (are you panicking??).

Anyway, so what do I do for a living? I fantasize about gardens, coffee shops, quaint little cottages in the meadows, mountain homes overlooking a foggy bluff (I think the word I’m looking for is “chalet”), meditative retreats, and more English breakfast tea than a woman should drink. I fantasize about a healthy, smart pup as a trusty companion, a cat who knows better than to sit on my keyboard (let’s be real – I wouldn’t mind.) and an agent who calls me every few days to be sure I’m doing okay and to ask for the pages I’ve been owing her, long overdue, because…aren’t they always?

I fantasize about a life where I can get rid of my smart phone and go back to my LG flip phone – do away with the e-mails at my fingertips, the incessant need for technological organization. I won’t need to worry about four schedules or syncing my iTunes or having enough storage for the latest update. I’ll have a few important phone numbers memorized, a heavy and comfortable rotary house phone (the phone is rotary, not the house), and an iPad and Apple TV for entertainment. I’ll lock myself away for the weekend and write and write and write, take walks, drink tea, feed the dog, sleep on the daybed, wake up with the sunrise, and not check my phone. not check my emails. not check my calendar.

So, here’s to the four books that are “in the works.”

[ i n d i g o ]

How are you, and is God dead?

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It’s not destiny. There isn’t a PUPPET master up there, toying with the delicate balance of 7 billion human lives +however-many-billion more of nonhuman lives.

It’s energy. We are all energy. Energy attracts and repels, is neither created nor destroyed blah blah, etc. Energy is our makeup.

I’m not experiencing déjà vu on this doorstep because of some master getting his kicks for his illustrious plan. I’m not tingling with the magnetism of been-there-done-that because of capital-D-destiny or a glitch in the Matrix.
Each choice we make branches a different path – a parallel universe, and déjà vu is the shiver of familiarity when 2 or more of my Selves experience the exact same moment across universes.

We don’t find ourselves in these Moments Of Commonality – often surrounded by the same souls, hence the tingle – because it’s Destiny, or Planned, or Meant To Be. We all end up there because our energies attract. Because we jive. Our Selves, on an elemental level, vibrate at similar frequencies, and we pulled each other in as Close and Personal as it gets. We Connected, if only for a moment.

Déjà Vu is a shared experience along all the millions of versions of you, reminding you that, at your core, you are You, true, honest, and raw, and that You is whom you need to listen to.

Instinct. Energy. Magnetism. That’s what life is.

Trust it. Trust You.