Apr. 6th, 2004

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Last night I apparently left one of my dresser drawers open about an inch and a half and my cat, Snickerdoo, decided to make a game of reaching in and pulling out all my socks and underwear one by one and dropping them on the floor in a nice little pile.

I want to write a mission statement for my life. I want it in writing. I want to wrap my life around these certain truths: I have more control over my destiny than I let myself believe. EVERYTHING THAT MATTERS HAPPENS FOR A REASON. THAT REASON IS LOVE. TO BELIEVE OTHERWISE IS TO EMBRACE HELL. WE'RE HERE TO FORGIVE. WE'RE HERE TO BE TRANSFORMED. WE DIE BECAUSE THE EGO MUST DIE, THEN WE SHALL TRULY LIVE.

I want to dare myself to live passionately, to dream and create fearlessly, to write whatever story I have to tell, to have the guts to manifest whatever song, poem, photograph, collage or story is given to me. Maybe I'm partly doing that now.

It's the same prayer I've been chanting for years, "God grant me strength, courage, clarity and truth."

Is there somebody I'm supposed to meet? If so, please step forward now! Or later would be fine, too. Whenever it's good for you, you can step forward.

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