Burning Man sounds good. Hang-gliding, too. I swear, ever since I pulled every single thing out of my closet and held it up to the light, things are looking clearer. We are moving, we are changing. I am throwing away old photos and recordings, the paper trails, the acceptance letters.
Last night I dreamt I was with a rescue team. We had to take a helicopter to the disaster. I gave myself three seconds to decide whether to balk at the airlift, or go with it. I chose to leave my fear on the ground. Anyway, what kind of helicopter drops its load, when lifting an ambulance into position? We landed just fine, and my team never knew my doubts. Last week, in waking life, I applied the same thinking to a routine blood draw. I'm phobic about my veins. I faint, I kick. I decided not to warn the phlebotomist. First time. I focused on normalcy. Be strong, handle your shit. It worked. The phlebotomist talked about his wood-working hobby. I said "have a nice day," and made it to my car without screaming. Later, I danced.
We are walking, on. Through and into change. We get to decide when it's time to let go. xox
