Growing up and living the way the demon required lead me into decisions and to a life style that is now as fresh as avocado green shag carpet..wall to wall, ’70′s style.
My life must grow and evolve. Even scarier, I must grow and evolve. I want positive change as much as I ever wanted a piece of my favorite birthday cake. I’m antsy, tip-toe dancing with anticipation of what I know..from all memory, is delicious, mouth watering and worth the wait.
Translated into real life situations, that birthday cake represents the ideal. I strive for no less. I am brave and patient…starving for sugar, those white fluffy layers divided with fresh sliced peaches and whipped cream could bring me to my knees…especially when translated to real life situations. We all have our goals, dreams and responsibilities.
I’m a late bloomer. Actually, I’m called a survivor…something that blooms despite all the weeds choking it’s roots.
My wonderful therapist would say: “Get off the cross! We need the wood!” She’s very direct that way. I feel like I’m 8 years old again. Floating far away from land in the open Pacific with only a life jacket to hold me afloat. No sign of land. Waiting for an ocean current to push me towards the sand. To drop the metaphor…I need to reach out and feel a caring hand clasping my uncertain life.
