Adios discrimination, complaints, powerlessness & gallstones

Beloved dreamers,

 The fabulous funeral to bury my dream of publishing The Book through a mainstream publishing house is days away, and I’m thrilled to hear of all the exciting additions guests are adding to the open casket. First of all, so many of us are going to bury the idea that discrimination has any part of our lives anymore by sticking Proposition 8 into the coffin. As we bury that misguided effort, it will fuel our passion to get to work reversing it. I have no doubt that the decomposition of Prop 8 will serve as rich compost for our nation’s growth into greater love, acceptance, tolerance and equality deserved by everyone—regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, or age. And speaking of age, after hearing that her Grandma wasn’t casting a vote one way or another for Prop 8, my young niece announced that she didn’t think old people should be allowed to vote. “They don’t have to live with the results,” she reasoned. But, hey, discrimination is discrimination. If old people get to vote, then gay people should be allowed to be married. Especially the old ones—cripes, they’ve been waiting so long. (If we aren’t going to give gays marital rights, then we must at least offer them a discount on their taxes since they aren’t getting full service.) But from a purely practical standpoint, since the majority of young voters went against Prop 8, at least we know it has a short shelf life.

In other burial news, many are joining me in killing off the whining and complaining that leads to an overall feeling of powerlessness. For me, it was the idea that I needed Big Publishing Daddy to give me a book contract to launch this novel. It turns out that self-publishing and holding a funeral book launch killer fun. Another beloved guest, currently at Summit Hospital being prepped for gallbladder removal, has asked her doc to package up one of the stones so she can place it into the coffin and bury all remnants of disease, as well as her contributions to her own demise (poor diet, lack of exercise). She’s going into 2009 with one less organ, which leaves room for the inner strength she’s summoning to treat herself with greater love and respect.

Deep in my heart, I do believe, we shall overcome someday.

Yes we can.

Say folks…what do you want to dump into the coffin?

Please consider the following excerpt from an oracle written by my favorite astrologer, Rob Brezsny This guy gets it…

In order to live, you’ve got to be a demolisher. You take plants and animals that were once alive and rip them apart with your teeth, then disintegrate them in your digestive system. 

Your body is literally on fire inside, burning up the oxygen you suck into your lungs. 

You didn’t actually cut down the trees used to make your house and furniture, but you colluded with their demise. 

Then there’s the psychological liquidation you’ve done: killing off old beliefs you’ve outgrown, for instance. 

I’m not trying to make you feel guilty—just pointing out that you have a lot of experience with positive expressions of destruction. 

For more get Brezsny’s book, PRONOIA Is the Antidote for Paranoia: How the Whole World Is Conspiring to Shower You with Blessings.

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