It’s Not a Geographic

by

It’s a leap of faith.

Damn straight.

I recently got my first naysayer.  “OH, you don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Duh.

“We need to talk.”

No we don’t.

“You should be warned.”

I should be warned to not respond to your Facecrack messages.

Don’t rain on my happy parade with your bucket of bull shit.

Of course I don’t know what I am doing.  I am doing it anyway.  I am not supposed to know what I am doing, if I knew what I was doing then why would I bother?

Does anyone really know what they are doing?

All I need to know is that I will be caught when I leap.  I always have been.  I always will be.

Granted, it may not be the way I imagine it to be.

Sexy Frenchman sweeps into my San Franciscan life with loads of money and invites me to live with him have his babies and happily write while he supports me until I get my books published to great renown.

That’s never how it works.

Because that is fantasy land.

Fantasy land, like Candyland is a game I play to distract myself from reality.  The reality which is much more beautiful for being here, present, Goldfrapp crooning in my ear, just letting myself be taken.

Surrender.

Leap.

Go have an experience!

I am crazy.  I know I am crazy and that puts me ahead of the ball rather than behind it.  As I can acknowledge the cray cray up in my head I can address it instead of ignoring it.

When some one, who also wanted to go out on a date with me, not going to happen, ever, creepy man, anyone masquerades their intentions with “help” I am drastically turned off.  Don’t FaceBook stalk me.  Don’t send me messages about having talked with “David”  fyi, that was John Ater, and don’t put your fear on me.  Own your own fucking fear, I got enough to deal with.

I knew it was a coming.  There was going to be some one, and frankly, I’m sure he’s not the first to think it, there are probably plenty of folks out there that feel I am absolutely doing the wrong thing.

Fact is, that’s their business, not mine.

My business is to attend to what is at hand.  I do the daily work, small steps at a time to get to that next place.

Bless you Howard for saying that I’m not pulling a geographic.

I am taking a leap of faith.

I love it.

Some times it feels like free fall, but I get to constantly remind myself that it is like being on a roller coaster, I am held, I am held tightly, safely, cradled, and I will be caught.  It may feel untenable at times, but it is the ride of my life and I am not about to get out of the seat now.

I paid the admission price.

I have stood in line.

I have watched the show on the television screen and now I am going to get it on.

I did get to unexpectedly see John Ater tonight and share with him the negative Nancy e-mail I got from the naysayer and he agreed–not my crap.  And he also said, get prepared, this guy will not be the first, there will be more who tell me that it won’t work.

And maybe it won’t.

Maybe I will fail miserably.

But frankly, failing miserably at something is ok.  I have to start somewhere.  I have to make a beginning.  One does not go to school because they already know the answers. School is for learning, life is for learning.

Teach me.

I want to be teachable.

I got the most pleasant moment today walking a co-worker through something in Quick Books.  I could not believe the words that were coming out of my mouth as I gently, adroitly led him through the process of building an invoice, applying credits and payments and properly closing out the transaction.

Who is this person?

Just a few scant months back the notion of doing any of this was pure fantasy and yet I learned how and then I got to turn around and teach some one else how to do it.

If anything I get the joy of sharing with the people in my life my life.  I get to have experiences, do things, travel, move, flail, perhaps fail, thrive, fall flat on my face, laugh at myself, first time trying clipless pedals anyone?  Then I get to share how I learned and I get to teach in return.

David Allen once looked at me and said, “girl, you are a teacher.”

I am.

I am partially because I do honestly want to learn more.  Oh, yeah, I get scared, I want to come across as knowledgable and right and like I have all my shit together.  But, when I get vulnerable and let some one show me how to do something I get to let them share their experience and that is a marvelous joy.  Then, oh, then, I get to do the same thing for the next new person down the line.

The lineage is astounding and beautiful and I get to be a part of a great whole just doing the things that fulfill me and my dreams and my heart.

I also gain in humility.

I could be embarrassed by the fact that I made a grand announcement to the world that I was going to get married at Burning Man this year.

Oops.

I don’t have a boyfriend or a ticket to the event.

Ha.

I could be chagrinned.  Or I could say, I tried something new, I tried to Call in the One, I investigated and then found out after a year of no sexy that I was not having it.

I’m going to go where the water is warm.

Might be over in Oakland.

Could be down the street.

Might be a cobblestone street.

John Ater tonight said I will have gaggles of French men.

Excellent.

He also said I might have a gaggle of babies.

Excellent.

Ha.

I have no idea even if I want either.

Oh, ok, I do like the idea of both.  I am just not hedging my bets on that’s the way I will stay in France.  Pick me up some French man and get married and whelp babies and be domesticated.

Can you domesticate a hellcat 39-year-old woman with tattoos of stars on her neck who rides a Rock Star Sparkle pony fixed gear?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Catch me when I leap and we’ll talk.

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One Response to “It’s Not a Geographic”

  1. John Ater Says:

    Love this. Love you. JA

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