​What if every story I have in my head is not true?  What if these ideas of who I am and how its supposed to be based on how it has been suddenly disappeared.  Not the eternal sunshine, per se, but more the eternal state of curiosity? 
 
What if I woke up every morning fully engaged with the Mystery and how it wants to unfold in that moment?  Asking it when I arise, "Mystery, what do you have in store for me today?"  What if.
 
What if I was at peace with all the longing in my life.  All the sense of incompleteness and empty space?  What if the void wasn't a void at all, but an opportunity to have space to move toward something that brings me further in to my life?
 
What if I was already loved?  Not needing it to come from outside of me, but to erupt from inside of me to be shared with the world? 
 
What if I was half full?  What if there was no cup at all?
 
What if this world was in an inescapable state of awakening and nothing could stop it?  That its natural impulse was to save itself and to use us as tools to satisfy that goal?  What if we are all just playing our part whether we know it or not, whether we choose it or not?
 
What if I believed in this?  And in miracles? And know to the core of my bones that the what if is in the what if-ness of asking the very question?
 
Like the same way the longing is in belonging?
 
What if?
 
What if people actually read this, and cared, and were touched by my words?  What if my vulnerability made a difference to one person?  maybe more?  what if my existence mattered?  What if I inspire people to feel the same and do the same and find meaning in all of this?   What if I am not alone?
 
What if I am beautiful even as I age and my body gets squishy and I grow hair in places that didn’t once do that?  What if I didn’t chase youth as though love is only reserved for the maiden form?  What if all the love I have had somewhere to go even if I don’t have a man or child or family to call my own?
 
What if it went to you?  Would I matter a little more?  Would you?  What if even that did not matter?
 
What if depression and anxiety and the paralyzing fear I have that my experience of existence will always contain resistance keeping me from fully participating and receiving grace were simply an illusion and I could rest in the arms of the great mother earth knowing I am loved and could march forward connected to all that love and light and share it and remind others that they are no different than I?
 
What if I was not scared to dream based on all the disappointments that have piled on top of that very tendency?  what if, when I saw young people that I did not feel envious of their ignorance but instead celebrated their sense of wonder and found that place inside myself that longs to touch that way of being?  What if I could be that?  What if I am still that?
 
What if I could look at all of the injustice in the eye and let the grief I feel run through me completely free and unstuck until it turns into love?  What if that grief comes from the knowing that this life is short and precious and we are wasting our time being anything other than amazing and free? 
 
What if I could stand and be a mirror for us all to remember?  Can I remember and not forget that I am a child of god or spirit or the creative impulse or whatever I can and cannot call it?  What if pleasure was my birthright and no one had the power to take it away from me? 
 
What if all systems of power simply fell away in order to make space for the anarchy of Self to come and take back his/her/their fluid state of Being?
 
What. Oh. What if?

I woke up this morning, ready to start a blog.  A place and space to put myself shamelessly and honestly into the world.  As I was falling into sleep last night, I had loads of things to say and share.  And as I sit here this morning, I pulled up a blank page ready to rock it… and this is all I have to start.  A narrative about how when the moment comes to really share myself and be vulnerable, words and ideas totally escape me.  My brain does that thing, that if you watched T.V. in the 80's, looks a lot like the blank channel, with rainbow stripes and a high pitched hum.  But I suppose that even that nothing, leads me to something.
 
And that something, is my intention for beginning this blog.  It began with a long time desire I have held to do something like this.  To share my story in the hopes that perhaps it would touch someone, maybe even many someones, who struggle in the same ways I do and could use a little normalization around some of the things we tend to hold inside and hide from others for so many reasons.  To not burden others or to appear as though we have our shit together in a world that admires that.  Personally, that’s never been my gift. 
 
And so I have been seeking a channel.  To take all of the feelings and energy and ideas I have swirling around inside and giving them a place to land outside of me.  And this is not my first go at this.  I have always been an artist.  I have been in denial of that for most of my life, but it doesn’t change the fact that this is what is true for me.  It seems to be, that living a creative life is the only way I will survive this thing.
 
So, here goes nothing.