fearless

Dear swing set lady,

Hello, I am the pre-school aged escape artist who lived in your neighborhood back in the 1960’s, you know, the one with the raging case of swing set envy.

Apparently, on afternoon walks with my mom I had spied what I determined to be the top of a beautiful red metal swing set in your backyard. Please forgive me, but I couldn’t wait the six months for Christmas when I had been promised to receive my very own swing set straight from the North Pole.

I was obsessed! I had even marked the page in the Sears catalog.

But sometimes a girl’s just gotta swing and I could get to yours without crossing any streets so…

Now, don’t feel sorry for me I got plenty of swinging done on our family excursions to Petit Park, but when you factor in my fearlessness, my ability to wander off and my insatiable need to swing—well, I just couldn’t be stopped.

Or at least that’s what I’ve heard over the years.

People discover their wanderlust in many different ways. Most of my friends found theirs in the gap year between high school and college. You have to understand wanderlust. It is fueled by curiosity and funded by courage. You could say mine followed the same path. It started with curiosity but since I’m pretty sure four-year-olds don’t possess courage per say, mine was fueled by envy.

And an insatiable need to swing.

Also, my profound lack of understanding of and general disdain for delayed gratification —an affliction which haunts me to this day!

So you can look at it this way swing set lady, my wanderlust kicked in when I decided to embark on my solitary field trip to your backyard.

I don’t know what got into me that day. Maybe we couldn’t go to the park, or I was shown on a calendar that Christmas was a shit-ton of days away but as the story goes: one minute I was there, the next I was not. Apparently, I was one of those shape shifting little kids and my thirty-pound, white haired self could disappear as quickly as a puff of smoke.

Now don’t think for one second that it was my mother’s fault. I hate it when you get judgy.

You know how it is! You must have been a mother, you had a freakin’ swing set in your backyard!
Raise your hand if you haven’t turned your head for one second to see if you have a chive in your teeth and the baby rolled off the changing table—or the couch—or the bed. Or your toddler wandered into the abyss that is Nordstroms.

I thought so.

Anyway, you have to admit, the fact that I knew my name and phone number at that age was impressive (EM 363-6932), and if you’d asked me I would have read you Green Eggs and Ham and any other Dr. Seuss book you owned. You have to admit—that’s some damn fine parenting.

Anyway, back to you. You were very nice to me while we waited for my mom to stop vomiting and come and pick me up. I remember she wasn’t mad at all! She was crying she was so happy to see me! I almost expected a parade on our walk home.

I guess I want to thank you, swing set lady; for being my childhood neighbor. Your kindness (I remember you giving me a cookie), and your ability to keep your wits about you and not freak out when you looked out your kitchen window one morning to see a strange little girl swinging, made me feel safe in my lust to wander and THAT has been an invaluable gift to me.

And thank you for talking to my mom because I never had to wait until December—I got a brand new swing set of my very own like, the next day.

xoxJanet

Once upon a time, angels descended onto a beautiful planet to play in physical form.

That planet was Earth.

Trouble was, as gorgeous as this place could be, it presented a certain kind of unexpected danger to these playful angels.
They were so used to being non-corporal, that they made unwise choices, tons of them, in the thrill of the moment, which led to hurting or actually destroying their bodies.

Shit, I hate when that happens.

So a call went out and a brilliant plan was devised
.
This plan involved enabling an aspect that would accompany the angels into the physical.
It would relate so completely to the body that it would protect it at all costs.
For all it knew, it was ONLY the body; it couldn’t remember that it had ever been an angel.

Like an unseen bodyguard, it did a really admirable job.
Angels stopped jumping off cliffs without bungee cords and breathing underwater. They developed concern for the wellbeing of their vessel.

This invisible bodyguard is called the EGO. Its operating principal is fear.

Fear is what keeps us alive.
Useful, I would say; one hell of a plan.

To a point.

After awhile, tens of thousand of years to be exact, the beloved EGO started to feel the effects of emotional pain in the body as well.

To the EGO pain is pain, so, like any good bodyguard, the EGO triggered fear of this pain, so it could be avoided at all costs.

Skip to the present, and these angel’s adventuresome, joyful and playful spirits have been hijacked by the EGO.

You can’t blame the guy, he’s programmed to keep us alive and block us from any pain, but in the process, as our bodyguard, he has stepped out in front of, and blocked so much joy. All because it looked like it was attached to some potentially dangerous feelings.

The moral of the tale is this:
The Ego is NOT your amigo.

Do NOT make the EGO your wingman. He gives shitty advise.

He is your bodyguard, not your friend. And as such, he views every situation through the lens of the ever vigilant secret service agent of your life, scanning each situation for threats.

Life, love, it all looks dangerous….to him.

He’s not a bad guy, he’s just doing his job, keeping us away from ANY and ALL pain.
His job description, from the beginning was to keep us alive, but what kind of life is it when we have become imprisoned by him……through fear. 

Now that you know the story, put him back in his place, tell him to lighten up, drop the earpiece and dark glasses and let you live your big, bold, beautiful life.
Give him some vacation time, a day off.

If you get hurt in his absence…..so be it, at least you’re having some fun.

Wasn’t that the point?

Did this change your perception of the Ego? Even just a little bit? Do you believe in fairy tales?
Have a great weekend!
Much love,
Xox

This savage heart is wild and un bridled,
wanting things that can’t be named.

This savage heart behaves like a child,
running barefoot and untamed.

This savage heart won’t choose the road,
that the other hearts have tread.

This savage heart won’t make it easy,
it won’t let itself be lead.

This savage heart is filled with passion,
that drives it forward hard and fast.

This savage heart will daily command me,
inside this life which I’ve been cast.

This savage heart will go on beating,
until all desire is a thing of the past.

I’m going to print this and put it up everywhere!!