Hello, I’m the new morning host at 103.5 QM/FM. The small sign, hand drawn with left-over pastels from elementary school, surrounded by groovy flower magnets stared back from my shiny white pre-stainless fridge door for about 6 months in 1994. Six months before I got my last job. Every time I went to get something to eat, which was approximately twenty five times a day because I was still breastfeeding, I would say to myself “Hello, I’m the new morning host at 103.5 QM/FM” as I reached for the mid-afternoon burrito snack. I was oblivious to the power of intention then. “The Secret” was still a secret and Oprah was seriously debating ‘who’s the baby-daddy’ on her show. Still, something intuitively drove me to publicly proclaim my destiny and hell if it didn’t work like a charm. Sparkling wit, magnetic personality, slightly hyped resume and three borrowed interview outfits had nothing to do with it. I really wish I still had that sign.
One nondescript early Spring day not too long ago, I walked out of the sparkling new state of the art studio I had worked pretty hard for nearly 20 years to be sitting in and crossed the new carpet smell of the hallway into my boss’ fancy glass office. “Boss, I need your help”. “Uh, ok what’s up?” He was usually very obliging like that. A kind and respectful boss who always treated me extremely well. I proceeded to ‘voice my future’ without even knowing it. “I’m turning 50 this year which is a big deal and I want to travel as much as possible ALL YEAR LONG so I’m going to need a little flexibility with the whole enormous-corporation-filling-out-the-forms-for-vacation-tracking-thing please”? “I’ll see what I can do”.
If I had been paying a more attention I would have noticed the uncomfortable expression as it quickly blew across his face in that nano-second as more of a harbinger. I didn’t because I was a sleep deprived, self obsessed, flippant yet basically model employee. I was eternally optimistic and hey, in the endless cycle of ups and downs we were the current ratings champs. His face projected what I wouldn’t find out for several months. I would be able to travel just as much as my little heart desired because before too long I would be liberated from the time limitations inherent in being a public persona on whom ratings success, client relationships and therefore cash-flow is based.
What would your perfection look like exactly? My daughter and I were chatting about this one year ago on Summer holidays. I recall hers included a big rope swing and unlimited gum. While we were talking we doodled little stick figures of our ideal twenty four hours. Mine went something like this. Sleep in, cup of tea, green smoothie, yoga – preferably outside, sizzling hot blue sky day at a gorgeous beach with loving friends and family, staying there until after the sun goes down and the sand cools, BBQ, wine, beach fire, happy kids enjoying the alchemy of sticky smores, star gazing then home to a warm bed and a good book. Just last week that is exactly what happened. Every last thing on our lists happened and then some! Well, except for the infinite bubble gum. It took a year, almost to the day, but the power of being precise with your words whether spoken silently, repeated mantra style or written in the steam on your bathroom mirror is undeniable. As the BFF I’ve never actually met Jacki Carr says ‘write that shit down!” It’s more powerful than you can imagine. You just don’t get to set the time frame.
Freedom. The word kept coming up when I was emotionally fishing through my pockets all last winter trying figuring out how I wanted to feel every day. You see, this reconsidering of time spent, this rearranging and restructuring was actually a dance with two partners. I decided it was time to go, I just couldn’t control the timeline. I didn’t tell many people but the horse had already left the barn. With the help of the shining goddess Danielle LaPorte and her Desire Map I began to realize that glorious freedom was #1 on my Saturday Countdown. I just couldn’t pull the trigger myself because, well, the mortgage and all that. Also, I was scared out of my pants I’d be broke eventually. Scared to jump, to express out loud what I had been deeply craving. I was the silent treatment asshole boyfriend who behaves like a toddler until you dump him so it’s not his fault. I waited…for freedom. Sure enough, that word I had written down so many times in a lovely leather bound book eventually arrived. A gift on a Monday morning. A little jarring when it actually occurred but not entirely surprising. I had greased the skids well ahead of time.
Oh Jeez, does realizing uber primo dream goal mean freedom from pedicures and fancy dinners too? Not a chance. I want to be free and affluent. Call it fr-affluent. Is that too much to ask? If freedom means unemployment does it also mean financial downslide? Nope! From what I’ve been experiencing lately it’s absolutely possible and completely probable to be rested and rolling in it at the same time. How the fraffluence looks and when it happens is not my call. That’s the tough part for control freaks.
The difference is that now I don’t hope it’ll happen, I know it will. It’s the faith that comes from proof. Living proof. My sweet little Mom who is recently discovering the many splendours of Facebook in her late 70’s (never too late) showed me a post that’s gone viral with Jim Carrey giving the commencement address at Maharishi University of Management. Maybe you’ve seen it? Jim explains that ‘hope crawls through the fire while faith leaps over it’. Old rubber face also reminds us to ask for or declare what we want and then get out of the way and let the universe handle it. Never have I been more certain that things are as they are meant to be and the details will work themselves out if I just get out of the way.
I am so looking forward to all that gum!
~ enjoy it all.