It was my very first chat with my very first coach.
None other than Ms. Michelle Ward, of course.

I consider that conversation to be the birth of my entrepreneurial identity —
an early glimpse at a luminous world of passionate, polished, profit-driven ‘preneurs rocking the web & ricocheting their skills from studios in Brooklyn to the shores of Bermuda.

A world I never knew existed (this so wasn’t posted in my college career center!)

A world that gleamed with possibility, purpose & the promise of creative fulfillment.

A world that now — 732 days later — I live, work & belong in.

Lots of people ask me how I’ve “done” what I’ve “done” in “so little time.”
Meaning: how I built a profitable business anchored on my writing skills, story-channeling abilities
& promotional intuition . . . during the depths of the Recession, no less.

The answer isn’t very glamorous. But it’s genuine.

Quite simply: I didn’t give myself any other option, but to succeed. And I redefined my definition of success, whenever I felt the pinch of burn-out or boredom. In doing so, I met myself in the center.
And the center traveled forward.

All my woo-woo brethren are like, “I’ll namaste to THAT!”
And all my anti-woo peeps are like, “uhh…digestible bullet-points, puh-lease?”

You got it, guys & gals. I give you . . .

7 business truths I wish I’d been brave enough to believe, 732 days ago.

Side-note :: I eventually DID come to believe each of the following truths, along the wild & winding road. But if I’d known & believed them at the BEGINNING of my entrepreneurial journey? We’d be living in the United States of Franzen, by now.

1 :: Proceed like you’re already PLATINUM.

To borrow a potent question from everyone’s favorite Jersey Girl-made-good, “If you were the BEST in the world at what you do, how would you BEHAVE?” Behave like that, from day one.
And pretty soon, the BEST is precisely what you’ll be.

2 :: But . . . fall in love with your worst-case scenario.

I got up close & personal with my worst-case scenario – working in a dive bar for peanuts, and snacking on government-subsidized cheese — and realized that if everything imploded like a dying star, I’d still be fine. I’d still be loveable. I’d still be charming. I’d still be me. Rock-bottom failure = more fodder for the memoir!

3 :: Get your finances aligned by a pro, from the get-go.

Admission: I thought I could wrangle my own finances, forever. I mean, that’s why the Goddess of Prosperity invented Turbo Tax, riiight? Do yourself a glorious favor: spend $50 on a consultation with a professional number-cruncher, and get cleaned up & confident. You’ll sleep better — and keep more of what you earn.

4 :: Remember WHY you’re here. And WHAT you want.

Write it big. Blow it up. Frame it. French kiss it. Silkscreen it on your t-shirts. Tattoo it on your forearms. Do whatever you need to do to keep your driving purpose front and center, at all times. The locked-in perspective will keep you focused . . . and sane.

5 :: Put your cheerleaders on speed dial.

Your mom. Your auntie. Your mentor. Your partner. Keep them clued in, and close. But don’t use them as human Kleenex boxes — call them when you’re in celebration-mode, not just when you’re in crisis-mode. They want — and need — to know that you’re making progress. That they don’t need to start up a charity collection for your survival. Unless, like, they do. And that’s OK, too.

6 :: Get a just-for-the-joy-of-it hobby.

Hobbies keep you fluid, playful & expansive. Which is exactly how you’ll want your brain to be wired . . . if you want to receive your next brilliant business idea.

7 :: Live 100 years in the future.

It’s the most critical question you can — and must — ask yourself, with each new client, opportunity, invitation & growth spurt: “100 years from today . . . will it matter?” Or, if that’s too heady, start with this: “1 year from today . . . will it matter?” Will it leave a lasting legacy? Will it continue to elevate lives? Will it enhance your visibility, the breadth of your voice, your income, your influence?
Is it vitally important? Or does it just ‘feel’ urgent?

Every time you make a decision from a place of long-term legacy-thinking rather than short-term survival, an angel gets its wings. And your business grows up. Beautiful — and brave.

And now, a brief word from our sponSOAR . . .

Remember that marvel of a woman I mentioned at the tippity-top of this post? The woman who popped my entrepreneurial cherry, back in the day? The woman who tolerates filthy insinuations, like the one I just made — with charisma, charm, and career-charting prowess?

She’s got an offer you can’t refuse. Lean in . . .

Michelle Ward — aka, the When I Grow Up Coach — is a sought-after & seriously powerful life & business coach, who is perpetually coming up with savvy new ways to serve her ever-growing audience. Enter: THE CLUBHOUSE. It’s a get-yer-coach-on membership site, with virtual workshops, open coaching calls, a Facebook community, inspiring giveaways, and access to every product Michelle’s ever made — and will ever create, in future.

Your CLUBHOUSE membership starts at just $27 / month. And is, to quote the loquacious Ms. Ward, truly “AMAZEBALLS.”

Chip-chop & clip-clop over to THE CLUBHOUSE page, watch Michelle strum her pink ukelele, pour over the ultra-affordable membership levels, and leap in. Your business will LOVE you for it.

Lisa is a mom, a yogi, a counselor, and a Reverend.

And whether she’s tucking in her little pumpkin at night, adjusting a student’s hip flexors during pigeon pose, drilling to the core of a client’s recurring panic attacks, or uniting a starry-eyed couple in marriage, her aim is the same:

To add to the Love in the world.

Not subtract. Not maintain. Not hold steady. Add.

This is an edict that needs no elucidation.
We read it. We get it. We want to live it. Now.

So, how do we add to the Love in the world?

First, we remove all that is not Love from ourselves.
The fear, cynicism, anxiety, and jealousy that keeps us snarky & small.
(Side-note: Reverend Lisa can help you with that).

Next — or rather, concurrently — we find ways to become living emblems of Love.

It’s a beautiful image. And it’s also very, very difficult.
Hey, if enlightenment was easy, we’d be there, already.
(And His Holiness the Dalai Lama would be out of a job.)

I’m issuing a challenge — or rather, 7 micro-challenges.
7 days, and 7 ways … to add to the Love in the world. Starting now.

1 :: Commit to one snark-free week.

Even the kindest people — you, for example … and me, most assuredly — succumb to bouts of bitterness, snidery, and snarkiness. We speak in hushed, heavy-breathed tones about the relatives that irk us, the celebrities we find idiotic, the co-workers that rattle our nerves. It feels good — like scratching a swollen mosquito bite. It forges bonds — with equally snippity souls. It’s not OK. And we can stop it. Crank up your awareness, catch yourself in the act, and exhale like a lion. Whoosh! Whoops. Rewind.

2 :: Be actively appreciative.

Your favorite barista adds a heart-shaped flourish to your morning soy latte, and balances a wafer-cookie on the edge of your cup. Tell her she’s an Artist. Ask if you can write a letter of appreciation — to her boss. Leave a nice tip. Tweet your approval. Make her fucking day. And then, make someone else’s.

3 :: Assume only excellence — until proven otherwise.

Your manicurist knows what he’s doing. Your accountant is coded to excel. Your new assistant is a hero. And people want to help you. Believe it — and it will (almost always) be true.

4 :: Mine for GOLD, in everyone.

Your think your Uncle Ernie is ‘just’ a red-faced Republican with a tragically limited musical palette and an ever-so-slight drinking problem. And you always will. Until … you ask him to tell you about the War. And what it felt like to feel the sting of gasoline in his nostrils, as he pulled his best friend from the rubble. And how he never told anyone, not ever. And how if it weren’t for his father, he’d have gone to architecture school. And how secretly, he just adores Rachmaninoff.

5 :: Say grace.

Before you sit down to dinner, to eat. Or to your computer, to create. Say grace for the blessing of your mind, your nimble fingers, your exquisite body, and the affluence that surrounds you. Hold a moment of silence. Or someone’s hand. See how it feels.

6 :: Be shattered.

Cry like your heart’s been ravaged, if it has. Be absolutely not OK, if that’s your reality. Be an elegant disaster. Give others the opportunity to cradle you. They want to. Very much.

7 :: Don’t delay.

Adding Love to the world isn’t a diet you start next Monday. Not that you should ever start a diet, next Monday. And adding Love to the world doesn’t start once you’ve cared for yourself ‘enough’.
It starts at the same time — and it is the same thing.

Image = “Pleats, please” via Dinosaurs & Robots.

* * *

And now, a brief word from our sponSOAR . . .

This February, nutritionista Holli Thompson is adding Love to the world as only she can — with a home-study program designed to help people compassionately examine their eating habits, nourish their bodies with plant-based foods, and begin to glow — at every level. It’s called Cleanse with Style, it’s impressively affordable, and it kicks off the day after Valentine’s Day. Love abounds.

Holli is a bundle of exuberance & eternal optimism — a holistic nutrition coach & cheerleader who truly walks (and eats) her talk. Jump into her world — and fuel up.

You wrote, but never heard back.
You heard back, but it wasn’t good news.
You called, but nobody answered.
You followed up, but Lord knows if they care.
Rejection! No traction! DESPAIR!

Rejection feels foul. No two ways about it.
And while it’s practically unavoidable — and usually NOT personal — there’s a LOT you can do to bolster your chances of getting heard, getting helped and getting the HELL YES you want.

Here are 5 reasons you’re getting the frosty-cold shoulder . . . and 5 tips to shift your approach,
and your ‘tude.

1. Your expectations are (yeowch!) a tad unrealistic.

You’ve never published so much as a Craiglist personal ad, and you’re pitching The Huffington Post with an op-ed column? You may be brilliant. You may ‘deserve’ it. You may feel ready. But you don’t have the street cred to back up your claims.

Should you seal up in hermitage and bemoan your fate? No. You should strategically pitch smaller, less thunder-powered outlets with similar concepts, build up a striking portfolio, and THEN swing back to the big guys. But this time, as a viable contender.

2. You’re not respecting the proper channels.

If a potential employer says “no phone calls, please” — they mean it. If a blog supernova says “contact my assistant, first” — they’re not kidding. If a publishing company says, “no unsolicited manuscripts, thank you” — they’ve got their reasons. You can be charming, memorable, sensational, rebellious — but deliver your brilliance through the indicated channels, ’cause you don’t want your first impression to get trashed or ignored.

3. The person you’re contacting is really fucking busy.

Think about how many emails, text messages & tweets you screen through, every day. Urgent stuff. Not so urgent stuff. Family photos. Invitations. Fan mail. Foe mail. Freaky mail. Business inquiries. Photos of daschunds in tiny fedoras. That TED Talk you’ve just GOT to watch. Now multiply that by . . . oh, say, 100. 200. 1,000. Infinity.

If you’re reaching out to a hella-busy human, it’s quite possible your missive fell through the cracks — or (gasp!) they simply haven’t gotten to it yet.

If you suspect you got skipped, wait a reasonable amount of time (at LEAST a week) and then swing back with a follow-up. Singular. As in, once.

It’s also possible that your message was simply deemed “not a priority.” That might sting a bit.
But you will survive.

4. Something about your approach feels mass-produced, disingenuous, or emotionally-detached.

Mass email blasts. Way-too-long intros. Presumptuous demands. Info over-loading.

When I get an impersonal “Hey, universe!” email blast — unless it’s from someone I know, adore, and / or sleep next to at night — it usually gets deleted. Fair? Probably not. Cruel? Maybe. But my limbic system rationalizes it thusly, “if they can’t take the time to write a personal note, then why should I take the time to drum up a personal plan to support them?” Energy exchange. Reciprocity. Survival. And all that.

Oh, and, simply including the recipient’s first name doesn’t make it ‘personal’ message. C’mon, now.

5. Your call-to-action is flaccid, uninspiring or nonexistent.

Say . . . you’re reaching out to a potential sponsor, for your hot-cha-cha conference. You could wrap up your pitch, like this. (Spoiler alert! I wouldn’t recommend it.)

I’d love to set up a brief chat (they rarely are) to discuss sponsorship collaboration possibilities or possible promotional crossovers (darling, I don’t even know you!). We could jump on the phone, anytime tomorrow (I’m booked for the next four months. No thanks.) I look forward to hearing from you (do you? do you really?)

. . . major de-boner, right?
Let’s try that same closing loop, one mo’ again:

We’ve got 500 savvy + devoted entrepreneurs attending our conference, in May. (ooh!) We’ll be featuring 10 sponsors, and spotlighting each of ‘em with a mega-watt bulb — with an onstage banner, a featured spot in our newsletter, and lots of social media love. (aah!)

If you’d like to partner with us, and reach our fabulous ‘preneurs (and their collective online audiences — totaling in the millions) (eee!) hit me back with an email. I’ll send you our sponsor guidelines, with all the money + timing details. And we’ll rock it from there. (sold!)

. . . uh, HELL YES & HALLELUJAH!

* * *

“All great innovations are built on rejections.”
–Louis Ferdinand Celine

‘Happiness is not a place, it’s a direction’ by Larkin Werner, via :: The Mattress Factory

* * *

And now, a brief word from our sponSOAR . . .

Ever dream of a place where there is NO rejection? The inimitable sparkle-gem of goodness Goddess Leonie has got just such a place. And you’re invited to step inside . . . for a whole luscious year of rejuvenation, inspiring chatter & full-tilt-to-the-stars ENCOURAGEMENT from your Goddess Sisters, ’round the world.

It’s The Goddess Circle! Glory be! A virtual sanctuary for women to transform every part of their lives — from creativity, spirituality & business to decluttering & health. And if you haven’t already met your hostess & guide, Mizz Goddess Leonie, she’s essentially a watercolor petunia in human form — not to mention a wildly successful entrepreneur, with much wisdom to share.

With 1,000+ members, this is a serious hotspot of heavenly healing & growth.

And it’s just $99, for a full year of access.

Gallop on over to the Goddess Circle. Enter with glee.

“Entrepreneurship is just so risky, unstable and HARD.”

“There’s just NO AUDIENCE for the kind of art I want to make.”

“Believe me, I’ve tried. That’s JUST THE WAY IT IS, in my industry.”

Excuse me while I throw a textual tantrum. AAAARHGHHGGH#$Y%%&&*(*)&&)*%)!!!!
(all done.)

Good grief, chief! How many times have you heard these self-fulfilling declarations bandied about, by crushed friends & colleagues? How many times have you uttered somesuch nonesense yourself?

How is it — in these extraordinary times, with infinite role models crossing genres, defying conventional logic, and turning art into cash with unprecedented ease — that we’re still rutting about in these ridiculous notions — like scarcity junkies, lookin’ for a fix?

I am reminded of a lesson, by the Indian mystic Osho:

“If you are happy and you have money, you will become more happy.
If you are unhappy and you have money, you will become more unhappy because what will you do with your money?”

What, indeed?

To carry it home:

Money cradles + energizes who you already are.
If you are artful, money will amplify your art.
If you are adventurous, money will give you new ways to be bold.
If you are kind, money will stretch your compassion to the ends of the earth.
If you are playful, money is a playground you hold in your pocket.
If you are romantic, money can bolster your expressions of love.
If you are optimistic, money will show you a world of potential.

Repeat after me:

I am unspeakably affluent –
rich with ideas, with resources, with love.

There’s so little I need to consume —
and infinite ways to contribute.

I can be a philanthropist, without spending a dime.

I can raise my own brilliance barometer
simply by charging what I’m actually worth.

When money is scarce, I do not panic.
I devote myself tenfold to my ART –
I ground myself in service.
I become impossible to ignore.
I tell the world who I am –
And money is drawn to my intrinsic richness.
Like gravity. Like providence. Like fate.

I am made of shattered stars.
I am elegance, embodied.
Money mirrors my ambition –
It is not my definition.

‘These Diamonds Are Forever’ by Bianca Green, via :: Society6

* * *

And now, a brief word from our sponSOAR…

Tara Gentile is on a mission — to redefine commerce as the creation & distribution of meaning, relationship, and experience. Tara believes that earning money for your intrinsic gifts is an ART…and that mastering The Art of Earning allows you to reap the tangible rewards of your genius, in action — namely, more wealth & freedom than you’ve imagined.

This February 22-23, the bespectacled, brilliant & ever-brazen Tara Gentile is leading an intimate, attitude-shifting experience at the beautiful Hotel Palomar in Philadelphia — The Art of Earning LIVE.

The Art of Earning LIVE includes 10+ hours of training with Tara & pals, plus 2 virtual follow-up calls, and a couple of nourishing meals. It’s self-care for the soul of your business. And you are enthusiastically invited to attend.

Learn more + reserve your spot, at TheArtOfEarning.com

Possible for her. For him. For them. For the special, the privileged, the early-adapters, the “lucky.”
Not for you.

AS fucking IF.

Every single day, my clients + comrades show me what’s POSSIBLE.
And it pickles my brain, and zaps open my eyes. Lemon-pucker-WHOA!

THIS is what’s possible. For the ordinary + extraordinary, for the overambitious + undernourished,
for valedictorians + drop-outs, for those who chose wisely + those who made disastrous mistakes,
for geekettes + tech-phobes, for dyed-in-the-wool entrepreneurs + Renaissance souls, for complicated + simple + hard-working + lazy + COMPLETELY NORMAL + HUMAN people like YOU.

THIS. is IT.

IT IS POSSIBLE…to skip college and run a Washington DC think-tank instead, to say FUCK on your self-realization + spirituality blog, to be ousted from your own damn ‘wellness + lifestyle’ company, and land the #1 spot on MULTIPLE Amazon bestseller lists — before your book even launches. While raising a kid. And remarrying a husband. And lint-rollering dog hair off your jeans. Done, and done!

IT IS POSSIBLE…to immigrate from India to Canada, nestle yourself in a spirit-lifting home with an ocean view like triple-distilled heaven, and spend your afternoons admiring sun-bathing sea lions on the shore. To make your living as a professional energy worker — aligning chakras over the phone, and unfolding miracles in virtual classrooms. For serious? YES!

IT IS POSSIBLE…to spend half the year traveling the world + the other half in a frugal + fabulous apartment, blogging about your adventures, getting published in glossy magazines + creating calendars + postcards that inspire girls around the world to be courageous + bold. It’s happening!

IT IS POSSIBLE…to spend your days spraying gallons of glitter on Styrofoam stars in a groovy downtown LA warehouse, and spend your nights painting portraits of beautiful women with antlers.
She’s doing it!

IT IS POSSIBLE…to spend ten years as a stripper, co-create a profitable real estate empire, dip your toes into yoga instruction, and then rise into your most epic adventure to date, as a whip-cracking business coach — all from your double-decker duplex in the Midwest. Hot damn!

IT IS POSSIBLE…to be a part-time professor, a lotta-time business coach, a dream-powered muse, a TEDx-talking speaker, and a full-time DyVa. Check out that realness!

IT IS POSSIBLE…to write a novel and trash it. To pour your heart into your first career and chuck it.
To buy a house and decide you don’t want it. To find yourself spinning — Jesus take the wheel! — into a career you never imagined could feel so right. Or so profitable. Or so prescient. To write posts like this one, and know that your words will touch ladies + gents from Munich to Melbourne. I’m livin’ it.

Take your ‘impossibles’ and cradle them, gently. Then kiss ‘em tenderly — and throw them off a moving train.

Image :: “Private Moon” by Leonid Tishkov

I’m a dead firecracker / I ain’t got any fuse
I ain’t got no inspiration since I lost my Muse
I’m a table with two legs / I’m a spider with five
I’m goin’ down slow / Muse, when will you arrive?

Oh Muse, where are you?
Oh Muse, where are you?

You know I eat, drink and I smoke stuff–
I don’t what to do!
–Loudon Wainwright III, “Muse Blues”

When you’ve crossed a High Holy finish line, there’s an adrenaline crash that accompanies the big finale. Actors and musicians experience it as the “curtain call blues.” Writers moan that they’ve “lost their muse.” Most creative folks I know “rebound” into bigger, meatier, more challenging projects before the old one has sighed into silence.

Completion carries with it a sense of death — death, and deep questions: “Who am I, now?” “What’s next, for me?” and most importantly, “How can I get inspired, again?”

Today, I’m offering a quartet of Mighty Cures for the ol’ Muse Blues — 4 remedies to refuel your mind, reboot your heart, and ricochet you into the next grand adventure.

* * *

Muse Blues :: You’ve hit your peak capacity. There’s nothing left to create.
Mighty Cure :: Make an Extreme Commitment.

When I was 19, I had my first (and most fearsome) existential crisis. So I dropped out of college — and got my helicopter pilot’s license. It was the first endeavor I’d ever undertaken where “success” meant the difference between a stamped aviation certificate and a flaming pyre of rotorcraft rubble. I was pretty fucking committed to succeed.

Cultivating “extreme commitment” is like learning to walk, riding a bicycle, or shooting a bow & arrow. Once the capacity is there, it’s encoded for life. And while flying choppers wasn’t destined to be my life’s calling, passing my checkride gave me the confidence to tackle absolutely anything. “Oh that? Whatever. I just flew 796 pounds of whirring metal to Oxnard & back. No sweat.”

Muse Blues :: You’re burnt out. Bored. Just plain…numb. What’s the point of it all?
Mighty Cure :: Take a radical detour.

Earlier this year, I fought a severe bout of the Muse Blues with a series of Irish Gaelic language lessons. Relevant to my career? Not so much. Useful, helpful, productive? Maybe if I was a scholar of Celtic mythology — or an elderly leprechaun. Fascinating, wicked-hard, and a welcome reprieve from ‘puter screen burnout? You betcha.

Spontaneous non sequiturs fill our creative wells like nothing else. If you’re burnt out, GET OUT of your industry for a spell. To quote my wise mama, “be surprised or be surprising — or both!”

Muse Blues :: You haven’t experienced the ecstasy of a genuinely original idea in…eons.
Mighty Cure :: Travel. Even just one zipcode away.

Ever notice that the moment you plant yourself Elsewhere — be it on a train, plane, road trip to nowhere, or even a coffee shop you’d never noticed before — the zing-pow ideas come flooding in?

FACT :: people who travel (especially to countries with foreign languages) become — and remain — more creative than their home-dwelling comrades. As if you needed another reason to celebrate next New Years Eve in gay Paris!

My best ideas have arrived on lengthy, aimless car trips (always bring a recording device, like Agent Cooper in Twin Peaks), on flights to Los Angeles, in NYC cabs, and on sultry, summertime bicycle rides. Put your wheels in motion, and fresh ambition will follow.

Muse Blues :: You’ve got plenty of decent ideas, sure — but all of ‘em feel tedious & dreary.
Mighty Cure :: Do that One Big Thing.

Often, when we’re wallowing in the Muse Blues, what we’re really asking ourselves isn’t “What now?” but rather “What can I do now that’ll continue to divert & protect me from that One Big Thing I actually want to do?”

Your One Big Thing might be…starting a business. Or teaching a class. Or writing a memoir. Or spending a year in the south of France, studying the intricate art of cheesemongering. It might be having a child. Or ending a love affair. It might be an act of extreme philanthropy — raising the funds to build a whole damn school in Cambodia. Or burning your résumé & re-entering academia — but this time, as a Botany major, with dual minor in Sustainable Farming & Anthropology!

You already know the cure for what ails ya. Really, you do.

“Man’s mind, once stretched by a new idea,
never regains its original dimensions.”
–Oliver Wendell Holmes

Image via :: Ironlak

* * *

And now, a brief word from our sponSOAR…

Much like myself, Jill Rowe pays little heed to traditional New Years resolutions.
In her own precise words, “fuck ‘em.”

To ring in 2012 with an incendiary bang, Jill’s created a new coaching program, starting January 14th — INSPIRATIONAL TENACITY. It’s a secret girls club meets wellness cleanse meets early morning reboot for your mind, body + mundane-to-miraculous muscles.

I had the pleasure of interviewing Ms. Rowe in the video-confessional booth, at last year’s Rich, Happy & Hot LIVE — and she radiated electric-orange charisma, on-camera & off. I suggest you spelunk through her world, and consider spending 30 days in her orbit. Because INSPIRATIONAL TENACITY is très 2012.

Few decisions are irrevocable. Most are inconsequential. Some —
a precious few — shape our identities in incomprehensible ways.

Here are three of my most important decisions —
a cellular realignment, a sophomore epiphany, and one pivotal NO that served as my protection.

May this trio of stories inspire you to be decisive, deliberate & discerning.
And let the ‘better angels of your nature’ do the choosing.

Reframing my OCD.

As a teenager, a well-intentioned & no doubt highly astute doctor diagnosed me with Obsessive-compulsive disorder. It was a complicated and tremulous time (I was starving myself to death, among other things)…but I refused to accept the idea that I needed drugs to flatten my brain’s intrinsic impulses. And, like, arranging magazines in a perfectly symmetrical fan & double-triple-quadruple-checking to see that your flat-iron is turned off is a BAD thing?

For some people, medication is quite literally a lifesaver. I chose another path — reframing my OCD as a powerful creative tool. Rather than labeling myself as ‘disordered’, I chose a different set of identifiers: I’m blessed with an encyclopedic memory. I have a meticulous eye for detail. I’ve got a monk-like minimalist aesthetic — and quite commendable hygiene. And one thing’s for damn sure — my house will never burn down due to a neglected oven burner. For this, I am proud.

Dropping out of college.

I didn’t want to go to college at all. I wanted to live in Burbank with my high-school boyfriend and be a massage therapist. But societal pressures (and a flattering scholarship) carried me into a liberal arts whirlwind, with my dwindling consent. I loathed my dormitory. I barely tolerated my classes. I found my escape in AM talk radio programs about extraterrestrial sightings, while cruising down the 110 freeway at 4 in the morning, with nowhere to be, and nothing to feel. And yet, I received straight-A’s and a paid research grant opportunity. Sigh. Whatever. Ennui, ascendant.

One morning, I whimsically ordered a double-shot mocha with whipped cream at Swork Coffee (I’m a pure espresso kinda gal — the winds of change were already a-flutter). I sat down, with twenty minutes before my 8am class, and cracked open a book. Not a textbook. Not a prescribed summer reading assignment. Simply a book I wanted to read. It was about Justinian & Theodora — two of the smuttiest, saltiest rulers of the Roman Empire. The California sun warmed my arms, chest and face as it rose higher in the sky. I was entranced. I was captivated. I was…happy.

And I realized, in one choir-of-angels-on-high burst of insight, that if I wanted it — and designed my life accordingly — I could be happy, virtually all the time.

I didn’t make it to my 8am class. Or my 9am class. Or any class, for the next two years. And while I eventually found myself completing a Bachelors in English at a 143-year old university in southern New Zealand, those ‘gap years’ were amongst the most formative, stimulating & identity-shaping years of my life. I am who I am, because I dropped out, spiraled open & yielded to the most powerful question of all: What if…?

Not doing porn.

I was once offered the opportunity to appear in a high-gloss, high-glam erotic photography session, directed by an award-winning adult filmmaker. It was all very chic, euro-glam, West Hollywood decadence. He had a special set of gothic ballet slippers designed to fit my freakishly large feet.
The pay was $3,000. Dark, rebellious…alluring.

Except, I said NO. Because, you know, I might want to be President one day. Or a nun. Or a Food Network personality, with a family-friendly weekly spot called “Fricassée with Franzen!” For example.

My views on pornography are as complex as the industry itself – porn can be empowering, thrilling, and sublimely stimulating, or it can be demeaning, gruesome, and hateful. I’ve known adult entertainers with advanced degrees & rich, fulfilling, well-traveled lives — and I’ve known some who’ve found solace in narcotics, living out of suitcases in airport motels.

But I digress. I said NO — because I didn’t know who I was becoming, and I didn’t want an irrevocable ink blot on the tabula rasa of my life.

We only get one sacred road trip in this body, you know.
And not every rule yearns to be broken.

“It is only in our decisions that we are important.”

—Jean-Paul Sartre

Artwork by :: Kate Banazi. Incredible, no?

“If it be your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to you.”
–Leonard Cohen, If It Be Your Will

I treat my illogical impulses with reverence –
because, truly, when have my instincts ever been wrong?

I’ll deliver the most encouraging NO you’ve ever heard.
And we’ll both be softer, kinder, richer for it.

I can tell you I LOVE YOU –
hear nothing but echoes –
and SURVIVE.

“I long to feel my heart
Burned open wide
Till nothing else remains
Except the fires from which I came.”
–VNV Nation, Nova

This is extremely important:
If I’m out in public
with anything less than
cosmic-WOW hair,
something is terribly wrong.

I seek professional help
where I need it most –
namely, my spiritual growth,
and anything involving
sharp knives, circuit breakers
and small motor skills.

I rarely ask permission
for anything I want
but when I’m ready to marry
I’ll probably seek
his // or // her
father’s blessing.

“I said why walk alone
Why worry when it’s warm over here
You got so much to say
Say what you mean
Mean what you’re thinkin’
And think anything.”
–Cat Stevens, Can’t Keep It In

I am a teacher,
simply by telling the truth.

I stand for love, liberty,
and the pursuit of ecstatic self-expression.

I’m living proof:
there are no absolutes.
Gray is the most beautiful color.

“You pull me like the moon pulls on the tide
You know just where I keep my better side.”
–Richard Thompson, Dimming of the Day

Let’s be poems and hymns.
Let’s yield to our impossibles.
Let’s make today our never.

And let’s make art together.

You can read my 2011 manifesto right here –
and my 2010 manifesto over here.

Have an exceptional year.

My mom sends out an end-of-year assemblage of musings every December. These are her urgings, reminders & proclamations,
for the New Year. She is a very wise woman. Take heed.

An aside: I have talked to my mom about her CAPS lock issue on numerous occasions. She refuses to amend her ways. She says —
and I quote — “regular size just doesn’t seem good enough.”

Out of deference to her idiosyncrasies, I have preserved my mother’s annual missive in its original yelling-at-your-eyeballs form.
Enjoy…

* * *

IF YOU’RE NOT SURE, WAIT.
ACT WITH CERTAINTY, IT ALWAYS COMES EVENTUALLY.

DANCE WITH FREEDOM AND OFTEN.

THERE’S NO YIN WITHOUT THE YANG, BUT OF COURSE YANG IS WAYYYYY MORE FUN.

LISTEN TO MUSIC, ALL KINDS DAILY.
(MY PICKS FOR WINTER ARE ROBERT SCHUMANN, RALPH VAUGHN WILLIAMS, ERIK SATIE, RISING APPALACHIA, HAFEZ NAZERI.)

WATCH EVERY SUNSET, NO EXCUSES.

BE WACKY, THERE’S NO HARM DONE.

WHEN IN DOUBT TALK TO LOVED ONES, FRIENDS, REACH OUT, LISTEN AND CONSIDER ALL OPTIONS…THEN DO WHAT YOU DAMN PLEASE.

IF YOU ARE STUCK, ADMIT IT AND SEEK HELP.
THERE ARE ALWAYS MANY PATHS TO ANY SOLUTION, NO MATTER WHAT YOU THINK.

BE SURPRISED OR BE SURPRISING — OR BOTH!

TAKE CARE OF YOUR BODY AND THEN EXTEND THIS TO OUR PLANET.

EAT LESS MEAT, DAIRY AND SUGAR. EAT SMALLER PORTIONS, BUT NEVER GIVE UP ON CHOCOLATE.

WHEN YOUR PARTNER, CHILDREN OR FRIENDS WANT TO TALK OR MEET DROP EVERYTHING AND BE THERE.

SIT WITH DEATH AS THE GREATEST REALITY — THE RAVEN AT THE CENTER — AND THEN YOU WILL KNOW LIFE MORE FULLY… OR GET REALLY DEPRESSED.

TIME IS PRECIOUS, no kidding! SO ONLY TELL FUNNY JOKES PLEASE!

PROFUNDITY IS AROUND YOU. YOU DO NOT HAVE FAR TO LOOK.

READ “AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM” BY ALEXANDER POPE — HE WAS ONE VERY SMART DUDE!

ALSO READ POETRY, SHAKESPEARE AND YOUR FAVORITE NOVELIST.

CULTIVATE SILENCE AND NATURE AND COOKIE-BAKING BUT SEE ABOVE: LESS DAIRY AND SUGAR. LIVE WITH CONTRADICTIONS IN CONTENTMENT.

LIFE IS UNCERTAIN BUT TAKE HEART LEST YOU DESPAIR, IT ALWAYS HAS BEEN. DO YOU THINK IT WAS EASY FOR THE CRO MAGNONS? TRUST ME, THEY WEREN’T JUST DRAWING IN THOSE CAVES ALL DAY!

SOMETIMES IT IS GOOD TO GO TO EXCESS — BE BAWDY, ROWDY, NAUGHTY. THAT IS ALL.

LISTEN HARD AND TRY NOT TO SPEAK. BUT KNOW THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE — ESPECIALLY FOR MOTHERS.

HAVING SAID ALL THIS, ALTHOUGH A YEAR OLDER, I AM NOT SURE I HAVE GAINED ANY WISDOM BUT LIKE ALL OF US KEEP TRYING MY FEEBLE BEST.

OH, ANOTHER THING — GO SOMEWHERE BEAUTIFUL IF YOU CAN, IN YOUR MIND OR FOR REAL.

HOPING THIS YEAR — THE YEAR OF THE DRAGON — IS FULL OF FIRE, CREATIVITY, HEALTH, PASSION AND FRIENDSHIPS OF LOVE AND FAMILY.

* * *

Image = my momma, playing the role of Musetta in Puccini’s “La Bohème,” circa 1992.

Peace on earth. And ecstatic self-worth.

New Years resolutions are restrictive, belittling, and designed to make you feel like a failure, when you (humanly, and naturally) fall short of your mark. What a swell way to kick off the Age of Aquarius, and the Year of the Dragon! Snort!

New Years rituals, on the other hand, are commemorative, detached from results, and designed to simply let you FEEL the movement of time, in a tangible way. They bring aliveness, not obligations.
And while I might be a little biased, in my experience, it’s the rituals — not resolutions — that yield lasting results.

Here are six heart-opening New Years rituals — for closure, completion + thunderbolt clarity.
Perform with love.

Try a Six-Day Sex Date…

…with someone really FOXY. (Say, yourself.) Three hours of sex, every day, for nearly a week. New sensations, spontaneous experiences, frisky toys…and levels of intimacy. Kim Anami spells it all out,
in this bodacious post, worthy of Playboy (which, incidentally, she also write for.)

Get an intuitive reading. A GOOD one.

Getting witnessed by a master intuitive is an experience you won’t soon forget. I got a reading with
The Tarot Lady last week, and it’s already altered my vocational vision for 2012 (hint: supreme SELF-EXPRESSION), and how I intend to show up, in my relationships (hint: sans WORRY).
Spooky-resonant, short of breath, misty-eyed, cosmic YES-ness. Give it to yourself.

Create a Gratitude Practice.

What if, instead of focusing your precious life force + attention on dropping those last 3.5 pounds (“because THEN I’ll really have made it, man!”) you devoted 15 minutes a day to simply exuding … gratitude? You could write one thank you note every morning, like Patti Digh. You could try some wild-child philanthropy. You could buy coffee for the frazzled commuters in the line, behind you —
and tip the barista, of course. And with regards to those last 3.5 pounds?
Focused gratitude burns extra calories. Trust me.

Schedule a Digital Sabbatical.

Figure out when you can commit to a tech-free vacation, and literally put it on your calendar. Ink it up. Make it real. And discover who you ARE, without social media, email or your ‘work’ to define you. Luminous, scary, and wholly necessary.

Burn + RELEASE.

Write down something — or everything — you are ready to RELEASE, in 2012. Say, obsessive email-checking. Or feelings of worthlessness. Or co-dependent tendencies. Or the wheezing business identity you’re finally ready to put out of its misery. Or a relationship that’s OVER, everywhere but your head. Hold your scrap of paper over a match. Let it catch fire. And scatter those ashes into the ether.
You…are free. Stardust in the wind.

Find a POWER WORD.

One word that will color + characterize, amplify + affirm your entire identity, in 2012. Like a micro-manifesto, or one-word affirmation. My 2011 POWER WORD was VOLTAIC: noting or pertaining to electricity or electric currents, especially when produced by chemical action, as in a cell; galvanic.
My word for 2012? DEVOTION. Find yours, and keep it close.

Onward + upward. Inward + outward.

Ginkgo Bonsai Tree via :: The Fancy