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speaking. my sister Helen has had enough of my editing myself. ‘you’re 44! just do what you want to do!”

many others have stood alongside and stated the same: Heather Sullivan Bleasdell, Gregg Berman, my husband Aryeh Nielsen, my Authentic Movement teacher Cassielle Bull.

it has become obvious that i must speak. by necessity.

when i block voice, i create dis-ease.

if i give a sh*t about wellness, my own and others, i will speak.

speaking means being vulnerable. it means fumbling and possibly ‘saying too much’, ‘offending’, ‘being judged’ or ‘misunderstood’.

but the truth is: masks only block intimacy and we are all always possibly being judged anyways.

do i really want to live life, distanced?

how can i know or realize my voice and have any chance of finding the folks who resonate with me if i don’t speak?

the 1st thing i’ll say, that rose up to be said earlier this week, and that i edited out, and that i am un-editing now is:

do you ever imagine, when you are having sex with your life partner, that the apocalypse is here, and that this is the last time you will ever be with this person again in this way?

i’ve caught myself with this imagining lately. it lends a tinge of suddenly appreciating – savoring – the dearly familiar aspects of this human i am with. this ordinary-ness is the greatest intimacy.

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