Ours was the home friends gravitated to. Where the door was always open and some homemade delicious meal to feed an army was baking in the oven. It was a place in which it was impossible not to feel a heart full of love and peace.
Our power is that deep self-acceptance of living for ourselves. Quit living for someone else, in search of their praise. You’re doing it right -- you’re going to be just fine.
They said, go down and make miracles Make this world a better place Don't waste what we gave you Don't squander your talent And I don't know about you But any magic show I've ever seen Happened fast, faster than my eyes could believe And I think, I'm here to make magic, create change
I got on stage and told the hundred-plus people in the audience the story of my heart. How it felt growing up. How it felt to get a pacemaker. How it felt to keep my story inside. And this honest truth: that sometimes it’s easy to love my heart, and sometimes it’s not.
A deliciously alive, broken open heart is a revolution. And it is what you are for, as a human being. Your torn open and glistening heart is a wild, throbbing portal to aliveness, to living a life with your own freaky artistry. Imagine that.
It is, after all, the season of Samhain. The season of darkness. The season that gives us the opportunity to recede and reflect.