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I am not sure if it is just that I have more clarity and awareness of things happening around me because I have been off the sauce for almost two weeks, but I tell you what, things have been happening to me in that eerie “how is that a coincidence?” sort of way lately. You know, like those days where for some reason you reminisce about a song you haven’t thought of or heard in years, then it comes on the radio an hour later? Or you come across a picture of an old friend and they call you out of the blue? I am going to go ahead and chalk it up to some sort of planetary alignment or that I have somehow achieved some state of elemental balance in my life… why? Because I’d like to believe in that shit.

It started over the weekend when I was chatting with a friend of mine. He’s one of those people who asks innocent questions that tend to hurl me into intense bouts of self-analysis. We were talking about his recent birthday and I was asking about the possibility of an impending mid-life crisis, when he asked me what my favorite year was. Simple question. Surprisingly difficult to answer. I thought about it and rattled off a few good years as I tried to dig deep and recall my most favoritest time in my life.  An then it hit me! This is it! This is my favorite year in my life. And wow, how lucky am I to be able to say that? Don’t we all strive to be able to say that every year? Isn’t that what living in the moment is all about?  It’s not that my other years sucked. I have lived a phenomenal life. There are many things I would love to experience again, others I wish I could do over a little differently, and some I’d like to completely forget about… but ultimately I do not spend my days saying “I wish I could go back to XYZ.”  Thank God for that, because I think that would be a sad state.

I spent the day deliriously happy because I realized that my 30s rule, regardless of whether I will ever accomplish the task of getting back my high school body (I’m not gonna stop trying). Then, as if by some unknown force, I bought a Self Magazine for the first time in years. What do you know? It included an article called “Formerly Hot, Finally Content,” which was an excerpt from a book called My Formerly Hot Life by Stephanie Dolgoff… and she nailed it. Granted, her book is about coping with being in your 40s and I like to think I still got a little hotness left in me, but she so eloquently described the mental and physical changes we find ourselves going through as we approach “middle-age.” I’m definitely picking up the book, because I was hooked by page three, but my favorite quote so far is, “I’m young enough to have fun and old enough to know what fun really is, as opposed to tossing my head back in faux frivolity, as I sometimes did when I was actually hot and supposed to be having the time of my life.” That’s where I am now. No longer doing what the world deems as fun, and just going out and doing what I enjoy.

On that same trip to the grocery store I bought a plant. I dabble in plants here and there (who am I kidding? If this were a video I would not have a straight face). With the exception of these two indestructible terminator plants that have followed me loyally for years, they all commit suicide when I leave town. I bought this plant because it had a stem that was more like a trunk of a tree. Sturdy looking fella. I brought it home, put it in a pretty pot (left over from one of the deceased), placed it in the corner where I had envisioned it living, and then noticed a sticker on it that said “Money Tree.” Hot damn! Now, I know that money doesn’t grow on trees, so I consulted the interwebs to find out what the meaning of these money trees are. Apparently I brought home a version of the Chinese bonsai tree that is supposed to bring you wealth. And you are supposed to put it in the Northwest corner of your house which is the prosperity area of the bagua map. Um hello? Unintentionally, it was already in the most Northwesternest corner you can go in my home. Now that’s good ju ju.

When does the money start growing? Springtime?

THEN, I went running. It was 8:30pm at night, but it did not matter, it was still ridiculously, unbearably, insanely hot and I was dragging ass on my way home from the lake trail. I told myself to keep going. I had good tunes on so I thought to myself, “If you were at a show watching this music live, you would just keep on dancin, so just keep on runnin.” Then I continued thinking, “Wow, I wish that song by Ghostland Observatory was on… the one that says ‘Keep on Dancin’ over and over.” Then… BAM! Literally two seconds later that exact song, Dancin on my Grave came on. Big deal, right? I have over 800 songs on my iPod, people. This shit does not just happen. Someone wanted me to keep on running. So keep on keepin on I did.

Because some planet or other is in my house, or something went into retrograde, or someone forwarded a chain email wishing good vibes upon their 100 closest friends….whatever it is that put me in this state, I am going to go ahead and roll with it and keep following the signs/intuitions. I have always been a gut follower. Sometimes it takes awhile for my stubborn ass to finally listen to it, but I’ve come to have a pretty darn great and trusting relationship with my gut. So I am going to go ahead and forgive it for having a little extra padding on it. Nobody and no gut is perfect.

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