I have written, or more accurately, started about 20 blogs for every one I have published. Last night during refractory cuddling, I hesitantly shared my frustration with a well-known and widely respected foreign journalist. The problem, I said, was that anything I am passionate enough to write about, would probably piss people off….and pissing people off, would ultimately be bad for business. My gentleman friend responded quickly with a quiet snarl deposited directly in my ear, “Ayyyyy…piss ‘em off!”
So here you go.. I’m going to dispense with the politically correct water-cooler drivel and go a little deeper (resisting the urge to say “MAYBE go a little deeper”.) I’m just going to do it. I’ll definitely get more writing up, but what of the “Little Love-doll” persona that you are hoping to spend time with? How about “Ms. Positive,” and what of “Your Lovely Lady of Inspiration”? Well, to quote Madonna, “Love is where you find it.”… or for those who are more inclined to follow the gospel according to Mick, “You can’t always get what you want/ but if you try sometimes/ you just might find/ you get what you need.”
I’m going to begin with my prevailing ponderance this morning. I woke up (in Phoenix, where I tend to be a bit more grounded and considerably more morose,) drank my juice and read the news, courtesy of Twitter. Standing out among all of the financial, housing, Pope-grope, and social networking flurry was a brief mention of the closing of US 60, due to a fatality. A car entering an on-ramp rear-ended another car, which smashed into a guy changing a tire, which hurled him onto the roadway, at which point he was killed by another vehicle. Just like that. This poor guy started his day at point A, planning a dutifully dedicated route through points B,C,D, and F, circling back to A at the end of his day, only to have it all end when he probably thought that the very worst thing that could have possibly happened to him at that moment in time was a flat fucking tire.
I hate that shit. Not just because I think I let myself wonder about those kinds of occurrences more than most people, but because when I am done contemplating that stranger’s demise, I feel an overwhelming compulsion to examine my own. Now, before you all close your eyes and turn your heads and make that face like you just sucked a lemon, stay with me a minute…. It’s not really death I am talking about. It’s actually life. I was once asked by a teacher/mentor, “If today was your last day on earth, who would you speak to and what would you say? What are you waiting for?” You notice he didn’t ask what I would DO… that’s too easy (lustfully inhale half a pack of cigarettes into my sweet, pink lungs, lay in the sun, ignore my mortgage statement, have a thousand squirting orgasms then eat foie gras, raw oysters and tangerine popsicles stoned out of my mind while listening to Led Zeppelin..or any reasonable combination thereof.) Having often been part of the celebratory process of cheating death and/or the antidote for the crushing fear of ones mortality, I literally embody the practice of “doing,” but the question of what to say is much deeper. Living a double life makes things especially tough.
I would like to think that those who love me know who I am, and those who don’t would focus on what I am, and the two worlds would not collide…which, of course, is total bullshit. I’m painfully aware that the door to the place holding my secrets seems tougher and tougher to latch these days and is often left carelessly propped open. Sometimes it’s a calculated trade: privacy for marketability, other times it’s just the sheer fatigue of having to hold it all together in a way that others can accept. Either way, I hate it, but that’s the way it is and I haven’t seen much good come from conducting one’s life differently.
So, to answer the question in a not-too-personal sense: Should this be my last day on earth, I would tell my family and the very few folks I hold dear that I love them. (They would already know that this not something I do lightly.) I would let my clients know that if they did hear the “L” word escape my lips, that I truly meant it in some meaningful way. I would tell those who look up to me to look at my strengths and to ignore or forgive my mistakes, but to not be afraid to make their own. (I would try to avoid offering the caveat of dumb mistakes made in the name of romantic passion.) I would implore them to love their children unconditionally and to try their very best to speak to them no more harshly than they would to their friends. I would tell those I love that my favorite sayings are, “What would you do if you knew you could not fail?” and as a safeguard, “This too shall pass,” because if you set your mind to it, it will. I would tell them to set goals and write them down because nothing is as powerful as exposing your dreams to the light of day and that goals, even misguided ones, force you to move forward in life. Most importantly, (and truly…because those I would care enough about to speak to at this junction are INCREDIBLE people) I would tell them to ENJOY their lives, right now…right at THIS MOMENT, and that they are worthy of that no matter what their weight, financial status, sexual proclivities, employability, past relationship casualties, or any other creepy self-loathing mitigating factors get in the way of their own self love.
I hope that maybe that guy changing his tire this morning was the kind of man who let his love, and whatever wisdom he hoped to pass on, be known. We like to think we have some control over our lives, but we really don’t. This was a good exercise for me. Without sounding too preachy, I encourage you to try it, because you have people you love, whose lives may someday be changed by having something cherished, even just a paragraph, to hold on to.
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