It doesn’t matter to me anymore, the MS, the grief that was my constant companion in the last year, the muchness of it all. Life is….beautiful.
I wish that I could give this to you, my view of life from the cheap seats. I wish I could impart that hope that drives me, the insane happiness that flows through me just knowing…knowing that love exists. An agent asked me my “interests” today. This was my response.
“There are mountains throughout the world that beckon me to climb them, rapids to raft, cliffs to scale, wines to drink and art to breathe in. I want to fly the para-sail, hike the Larson B shelf, dive the barrier reef, finish Chicago marathon and zip line the trees of Costa Rica. I want to sit on the highest hill in New Zealand and soak in beauty, and meet a real, wild Kangaroo. I want to touch my feet to the African continent, curl my toes in the warmth of the dirt, take deep breaths of the heritage and the story, and then write about everything, every moment of love, loss, breathless wonder and passion. I want to climb the highest, snowboard the funnest, drive the craziest, drink the best wine, eat really good pizza all over the world. Life is my interest, that type of life where you suck the marrow from the bones and live all out, all in. If it goes fast, sounds beautiful, tastes good…I’m probably intensely, keenly, avidly interested in it. My life is full tilt love on steroids, passion, love and incredible sexuality. That is what I’m really all about…and that is what I write about.”
The one thing that “he” aka the liar, the fake friend who blamed me for his pursuit, the demon that killed my joy, the terminal liar that cannot tell those in his world truth? The one that corrupted all that I held as real love? There is something that that horrid person didn’t kill in me? Yep. I love being alive. He may have got in my head, but I am still here, stronger and better, more passionate and real. Everything else will balance in time, with the love of my family and the hope of faith.