Boundless Enthusiasm - The Enthusiastic Musings of Marshall Ian Sontag

The past Friday was the last day of my day job at Great Insurance Jobs where I spent around 7,000 hours during the last 3½ years, and naturally I have mixed feelings. I worked with a lot of great people, learned a wide variety of new things and had a vast range of experiences, both good and bad. While the deeper significance of this event has yet to sink in, overall I am glad that I worked there. I feel grateful for the innumerable opportunities my job provided for me to grow, and so it is largely with a heavy heart that I leave now to go out on my own.

However, I am thrilled with my newfound freedom and I am extremely excited about the possibilities that the future holds. I am going to be working from home, developing a potentially high-risk business during which I’ll need to be looking for other ways to generate income to pay all my bills. Right now I have several web development contracts lined up, plus a few more potentials, but who knows when that’s going to run out. I’m receiving a few sales of fish oil everyday and my Fish Oil Blog is now on the first page of Google for “fish oil” (in addition hundreds of other fish oil related phrases), but I’ve yet to fully capitalize on the traffic. I’m also selling weed. (Just Kidding )

As you can see, nothing about my outcome is certain (is it ever?) and I have no highly stable sources of income. It feels like I’m aboard an incomplete airplane that has just taken off and I have no choice but to construct the plane while it’s already in the air. It brings me a renewed sense of aliveness and vigor to reach for my dreams. While I’m at it, I have to be careful not to let doubts make me to lose touch with my excitement, causing it to be unconsciously projected and transmuted into anxiety. I say that because right now I’m playing with the idea that anytime you feel anxiety, it is always the result of repressed excitement. I highly recommend reading this series about shadow projection by Ken Wilber.

As I have begun my transition, I have decided to give my workspace an extreme makeover to ensure for the greatest success. I am a strong believer that your environment plays a huge part in determining your levels of relaxation and productivity, both of which I want to maximize. This means painting the walls a new, more productive color. It means buying a new desk, some plants, a full-spectrum light-therapy lamp and a fountain. I’ve even sold myself on needing a Mac Book Pro to foster creativity! (Haven’t you used their sweet MacOS?)

But, you see, this presents me with a problem! As I mentioned before, I can just barely afford to keep the bills paid, so I currently lack the necessary resources to achieve this dream of ultimate productivity. As a result, I am reaching out to those around me to aid me in realizing this vision. I welcome you, the reader and ever-loyal friend of mine, to support me in anyway that you feel. I am not looking for charity per se, but rather investments into our relationship. In exchange for their investment, all investors have the option of receiving consulting in any area of my expertise, including search engine optimization, internet marketing, website usability, positive psychology, goal achievement, nutrition, stress management, emotional intelligence, interpersonal efficacy and romantic relationships! What a deal!

Scott and Roger, my employers at Great Insurance Jobs, generously gave me a $250 gift certificate to Amazon.com because they wanted to help get me going and Amazon offers everything from reference materials to home furnishings to office supplies. Thanks, guys! If anyone else would like to join the ranks of those that support me and my efforts and my writing, you are welcome to send an Amazon Gift Certificate to me*at*marshallsontag.com (replace *at* with @). Or you can buy me a Mac Book Pro, I’ll take the one in the middle with a 7200 RPM hard drive.

Thank you everyone for your support — I look forward to offering my friends and readers the best within me.

Today I came across something so incredibly touching and deeply inspiring that I was compelled to show the world by posting it on my blog. (By “world,” I mean all five of my readers!) It was Sarah McLachlan’s new song, “World on Fire,” and, well, just watch the video, damn it!

It’s a call to rise, and it has certainly has had that effect on me, inspiring me to spread the word and give more to those suffering around the world. Furthermore, Joshua pointed out to me that there is not actual suffering depicted, but rather moments of joy and celebration. This makes the video especially effective because it focuses on positives. As I witness the humanity of these impoverished peoples, it makes me realize that, in an extremely fundamental way, we are all the same. When you recognize and fully realize this universal truth of human existence, you can’t help but heed Jesus’ advice to “Love thy neighbor as thyself.” While achieving such a realization, however, may seem like a monumental feat, this is merely a reference to the emotion of empathy. An emotion that, if given a voice, would say “I feel your pain and suffer with you. I joyously revel in your triumphs.”

Now, allow me to wax integrally! (If you have no idea what that means, perhaps you’d better brush up on Spiral Dynamics or tune out right about now. )

To me, this video exemplifies the true beauty of the green meme, otherwise known as the sensitive self. Green shines its light of universal compassion on suffering wherever it may go, leaving no stone unturned and respecting no boundaries. However, a green voice that speaks of no resentment for orange or blue values is a rare creature indeed, and I feel it should be honored wherever it may be found. Perhaps one could criticize its lack of an appreciation for good orange values such as free markets that actually create surpluses which allow us to give to charity (ironically, the world displayed around the video is Orange!) However, we can easily attribute this to the characteristic nearsightedness of all first-tier memes. We can still love it for what it is and forgive it for everything it is not, just as we would our own parents, siblings, friends or coworkers. (Perhaps what I’m saying to do is, find a liberal somewhere and hug them, but only after giving them an economics lesson. )

To paraphrase Jay-Z: If ya can’t respect that, ya whole perspective is wack — Maybe you’ll love them when you fade to black yellow…

What are you waiting for? Check out Sarah’s donations, or check out this integral organization that seeks to save the world by promoting entrepreneurship and capitalism (!), founded by Whole Foods CEO John Mackey.

Ok, I know I said I was gonna limit the emotional talk, but this is definitely one of those days when I just can’t stop it. I just returned from a rather powerful experience at group therapy. I’m probably not supposed to discuss anything specific about other people in the group, so I won’t. But, someone was discussing an issue in their life that I found paralleled things going on in my own life, which I shared with the group. I told them I felt subjugated by my current work conditions. I felt overwhelmed and burdened by the new responsibilities and increased workload that come when your eemployers step up their aspirations and start new businesses. If that wasn’t bad enough, I felt stifled by strict scheduling and excessive demands on me and my time. And it doesn’t help that my bosses fight over me either.

Peter, our resident group facilitator, seized upon this opportunity to do some work with me. “What would you rather have in your life?” he asked.

“I don’t want to be tied down by a restrictive schedule. I don’t want to feel burdened by the demands of my job.”

“Now that I know what you don’t wan’t, why don’t you tell me what you do want,” he replied.

“I want to have freedom and flexibility.”

He nodded and continued, “Ok, but then what would you do with your freedom? What do you want in your life?”

I froze — Did he really want me to discuss my goals and dreams? That’s not something I ever feel comfortable sharing unless there’s a blog in between me and the other person. I get a sense of vulnerability and mistrust in regards to revealing my internal workings to other people. For some reason, most likely as a result of childhood experiences, I think people are going to ridicule me if I reveal myself to them.

And that’s how I felt sitting in this room. Peter asked if I wanted to work on the mistrust, which I affirmed. He said he wanted me to try saying something to everyone in the group, but it was OK for me just to say it to him.

“I’m considering telling you something very important about me — don’t you dare betray my trust.”

Wow. Such a willfull and direct assertion of my right to stand up for myself felt very alien to me and I still felt very vulnerable. Regardless, I still managed to get out those words, albeit in a muted fashion. Not the same intense “HOW DARE YOU?!” that I’ve witnessed from others in the group, but powerful for me nonetheless.

The whole time, I had what felt like a warm energy vigration going on in my upper torso, around my heart and solar-plexus chakras. (For my orange friends, I’m simply referring to physiological locations in the body! ) I knew it was some kind of caged-up energy, some repressed emotion longing to be free. I was trying to honor it, relax into it, let it be, give it space to develop and flourish. During this time I was silent and staring off, as I had taken my attention away from the outside world and into my body (although, there was that slight mind-buzzing of “Am I boring these people? Are they waiting for me to say something?”), so Peter asked where I was. I told him I was trying to be present for the feeling.

“If the feeling made a noise, what would it sound like?” he asked.

That was kind of an odd question, but I knew almost instantaneously what the sound would be. However, I still wasn’t comfortable making a weird noise in front of people, so I intellectualized it. “It feels like a warm vibrating energy inside,” I told them.

“Yeah,” Peter replied, “Ya know, the sounds that come out of your vocal chords are from vibrating energy too.”

I found his comment very insightful and appropriate and it reframed the situation for me because now, I was merely translating one kind of energy vibration into another. “Oooooooooooo,” I went, making a low, muffled humming sound, kind of like the sound a dishwasher would make if it was inside your closet. Or maybe a microwave in your trunk.

Peter nodded and replied, “That sounds a bit muffled. Is that your experience of the feeling?” I nodded and he said, “Yep, that’s emotional inhibition you’re running up against.”

So I sat with that feeling of emotional inhibition, along with the feeling of that warm energy trying to emerge. Peter asked if I was ready to share what it is I really wanted in my life, but I said no, not this time. What I had already disclosed was grand enough!

I drove away from the group with a big smile on my face. Grand Opening, Grand Disclosing.

To be continued…

Surely by now we have been properly introduced. If not, I suggest you do so now or these words on a screen won’t make much sense.

(And you might miss the inside jokes.)

I’m sure you’re wondering why I summoned you here, so here goes: I would like to extend an invitation to everyone to attend my Grand Opening. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get invitations printed on such short notice, so I’m gonna have to reuse an old one — just pretend it says something else. Here you go:

I’ve spent the last several months attending both individualized and group therapy twice a week, in addition to a more frequent meditation practice than ever before and the results have been quite grand indeed. On several occasions recently, I have experienced this very calm state of interest and engagement. Some might call it joy, but for me it produced a sense of boundless enthusiasm that became the inspiration for this blog’s name and design.

Apart from those peak states, the opening of my heart is changing me for the better in a number of ways: I’m less emotionally-inhibited. I’m connecting with people more. I’m not getting as angry. I’m more spontaneously romantic. I’m standing up for myself more. I cry more. I’m apologizing more easily — and doing so with feeling more frequently . I’m more able and willing to look people in the eye. I’m staying present for my feelings more often, rather than distracting myself from them.

Don’t get me wrong. Much of life still seems like a struggle and I can’t do those things all the time. I’m not in the Garden of Eden quite yet — but I’m closer than I’ve ever been and I refuse to stop eating from the Tree of Knowledge, damnit!

*Ahem* Anyway, it is now my firm opinion that an emotionally-inhibited life is a life only half-lived. Opening up your heart can be a painful process, but the costs of keeping it closed are far greater. I feel a mix of deep sorrow and compassion when I think about the child within me that learned to cut off his emotions as a way of dealing with an irrational world — the kind of world that robbed him of his profit from memorizing and chanting an entire torah portion for his Bar Mitzvah. I feel it more when I think about my friends and family members that are stricken with this heart disease. On a good day, I feel pain for everyone in the world that’s had to close their heart to protect it from the blood-thirsty grip of a cruel world and it gives me this inspirational sense of mission to change the world.

But don’t worry — eventually I’ll move most of this emotional chat to a new emotional intelligence blog. I realize those kinds of subjects are uncomfortable to discuss with some people because it creates feelings of anxiety, skepticism or disdain due to their own emotional inhibition, so I’ll try not to open up my heart too often. No guarantees, however — there will be days when it just can’t be stopped.

Last night, I created an intention that set off a chain of events that culminated in propelling me towards the direction of becoming a Sushi Chef. I know the title says “How I Became a Sushi Chef,” but obviously if I am to become one, this will be the first part of several that have yet to happen.

Around 9 PM, I developed a hankerin’ for some sushi. So I drove to Bikkuri Sushi and placed an order to take home for Brittany and myself. While this Asian (presumably Japanese?) woman was taking my order, I was being my normal jovial self and made her laugh a few times. Like when she asked what kind of fish I wanted on my Dynamite Roll, I told her tuna — Dynamite Tuna! She finished taking my complicated order (Brittany wanted Volcano Roll, with crab and no flying fish eggs, or caviar. I wanted a Volcano Roll with crab too, but WITH caviar. Plus we got a Philadelphia Roll, that Dynamite Roll and two miso soups — all for $22! What a deal!) I watched as she explained the convoluted details to one of the chefs, who I think happens to be the owner because there are several pictures on the wall of him in Asian-looking locales.

This fine, presumably-Japanese gentleman began preparing my yummy rolls immediately with his fellow Sushiist, who looked distinctly different but spoke the same distinctly Asian-sounding language as the owner (Perhaps some pan-asian form of slang — Asionics?). I was captivated by their incredible proficiency with the way of the fine art of Sushiization. It was at that moment that an intention I had set before came to mind: I would become a Sushi Chef.

The first time I tried this was at Seito Sushi, the Sushi restaurant that my distinctly-Asian friend Jason’s parents own. I extended an offer to work there, even for free, but there were no takers. Maybe I can graduate to there once I’ve learned the rolls — er I mean, ropes.

So while this guy was preparing my Dynamite Roll, I decided to make my move. I cleared my throat and said to him, “I bet I could do that.” He looked up at me and smiled, then nodded and said something along the lines of affirming that possibility. I then told him, “I actually made sushi once.” His face showed a mixture of curiosity and amusement, and he inquired further, “Really?” I replied, “Yeah, I made California Rolls out of brown rice.” His facial expression lit up with enthusiasm, as he was clearly impressed because making sushi with brown rice is more difficult than white rice, and he exclaimed, “Oh, brown rice!” like I was the man. (He’s obviously a smart guy, because I am the man.) “Yeah,” I said, “The first one wasn’t very successful. I learned from my mistakes for the second one, which was pretty damn good. However, something went horribly and mysteriously wrong with the third one, which ended up a complete and miserable failure. I’m not sure what happened, there.” He prompted me to elaborate: “What you do wrong with first one?” I explained that I hadn’t used a very sharp knife, and that I wasn’t keeping the knife moist. He nodded and smiled in understanding.

I then dropped a suggestion: “Maybe I could get a job here and learn to make sushi,” to which he just smiled and nodded, like it was a joke. I pushed a little more. “I can be an intern and you can pay me in sushi.” He smiled and nodded again, like he was trying to be polite during my apparent impromptu stand-up comedy routine. He then went to prepare my soup, and I turned towards the other guy. I asked him, “You think I could do this?” He just smiled and nodded too. This must be some slang Asionics gesture for “Of course you can, you’re the man!”

So finally, they began packaging everything up and the guy was instructing the girl on how to ring up my order. After he was done talking to her, I decided I wanted to tell him a story about the last time I had picked up an order there.

“Ya know,” I started and they both looked at me attentively. “The last time I was here, I bought a large platter. Now, I was driving my car, unlike tonight, when I have my girlfriend’s car out there,” I said as their eyes followed my finger pointing to the green car behind me, outside. I continued, “My car is much older and… has more junk in it. In fact, there’s even a family of roaches living in it!” Their eyes lit up with what looked like surprise, though in retrospect it might have even been shock. Either way, I had their attention, so I contined describing what happened:

When I left there with my tray, I opened the passenger-side door and placed it on the seat. I then closed the door, walked to the other side of the car and got in the car to drive home. As I sat down, I peered over at the plastic sushi container on the adjacent seat and, to my absolute horror, out crawled a giant, very opportunistic cockroach. I immediately visualized a family of cockroaches feasting on my scrumptious sashimi.

The Roach family sits down to dinner.

So I began yelling incoherent things at the roach to try and scare it away. It persisted, so I panicked and started slapping the plastic top of the sushi tray, which sorta sounded like a loud, crappy snare-drum. The roach obviously didn’t favor my brand of jazz, because it quickly scurried away, leaving me the champion. However, gains are soon lost when you’re battling those of the vermin persuasion. I then quickly turned the car on, turned the dome light on, turned the music on really loud and resumed my ensemble. It was only about half a mile back to my place, but the route is riddled with curves, trafifc lights and and stop signs. The drive home was a juggling act of steering my car, accelerating and braking, shifting gears with my manual transmission and banging on the plastic sushi tray, all while being distracted by loud music and the glare of the light inside the car. At the end of what was probably the longest 5 minute car ride of my life, I eventually got the sushi home safely. It was quite delicious and I became a customer for life. Although, one of the pieces of sashimi was a little too crunchy (probably the rooster-fish), however that’s a minor complaint.

Anyway, I finished up the story (which involved a simpler vocabular and more body language to help facilitate their understanding) and they were clearly very entertained. As I paid for the sushi, I left them a $5 tip for quite an excellent sushi-making performance. The girl expressed a great deal of appreciation, and they both waved to me very enthusiastically as I left.

It was an overwhelmingly positive and emotionally-rewarding experience. No, I didn’t get a job as a sushi chef yet, but I did create an emotional connection. Remember, this is only chapter one — Stay Tuned!

Trivia: The word “cockroach,” which is literally a combination of the slang word for rooster (cock) and a type of fish (roach), is actually a bastardized word derived from the Spanish word, “cucarracha.” Those were the two words in English that, when put together, most resembled the Spanish version. I guess this really was a fishy story, in more ways than one.

For those of you that didn’t enjoy yesterday’s post on the easter bunny, I will post something a little more substantial, even though there is something deeply wrong with you. (Yes, I’m projecting.)

I want to discuss how silly it is that people think that Easter has anything to do with Jesus Christ coming back from the dead, turning water into wine or Mel Gibson. Or that Passover has anything to do with swarms of locusts, turning water into blood or Charleton Heston.

No, I’m not a militant anti-religionist, or some grumpy old man trying to do away with easter-egg hunts and searching for the afikomen. In fact, the opposite is true — I’m trying to save these superfun activities from the clutches of magical, mythical religions! (OK, so hunting for brightly-colored eggs with yummy candy inside qualifies more as “superfun” than looking for a piece of half-baked bread, but I digress).

Let me put it differently: Don’t you find it peculiar that both Easter and Passover happen at about the same time, depict a rebirth of some kind and involve kids’ games of searching for something hidden?

We all know the traditional story of Easter: Jesus gets nailed to a cross for being a bastard (literally, he had no legitimate father) and then dies, after which his tomb is robbed he is resurrected from the dead.

Easter is a more clear-cut case of rebirth than Passover. I recently attended a Passover seder at the Zerivitz’s, and according to Dr. Zerivitz, the Kabbalah states that Passover has a more symbolic meaning: the passing over from one stage of life to another. (For those that don’t know, the Kabbalah is the real Jewish spiritual teaching, as opposed to the Torah, aka Judaism for Dummies.) This is the first time I had heard Passover described that way, rather than just being a celebration of Jews escaping slavery in Egypt. What’s the Torah’s rationale for calling it “Passover?” From Wikipedia:

The term Pesach (Hebrew: פֶּסַח) or, more exactly, the verb “pasàch” (Hebrew: פָּסַח) is first mentioned in the Torah account of the Exodus from Egypt (Exodus 12:23). It is found in Moses’ words that God “will pass over” the houses of the Israelites during the final plague of the Ten Plagues of Egypt, the killing of the first-born. On the night of that plague, which occurred on the 15th day of Nisan, the Jews smeared their lintels and doorposts with the blood of the Passover sacrifice and were spared.

So there you have it: it’s called Passover because God (in his infinite benevolence) passed over the houses of the Jews as he murdered the innocent babies of the Egyptians. How did he know who was a Jew and who wasn’t? At that point, God had yet to develop omniscience, so he had them smear lamb’s blood on their front doors. Perhaps, instead, God might have noticed that the Jews, being slaves, had inferior living conditions. At the very least they could have just written “I’m a Jew” on the door, but it seems God has a penchant for drama.

It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense because the celebration is more about passing over from Egypt into the desert (and eventually onto Israel) than God passing over Jewish babies during his crazed infant slaughter, but that’s the story that’s given anyway. If you’re smart enough to look past that story, you’ll see that even the escape from Egypt represents a rebirth of sorts: from captivity to freedom — a fresh start.

Why the preoccupation with rebirth? Elementary, dear Watsonberg: Both Passover and Easter coincide with the Spring Equinox. This marks the beginning of Spring, the season where the Earth is reborn! Now, I know you’re already rolling your eyes because you’ve heard the whole Christmas/Winter Solstice thing already, but stay with me here. At least Christmas has the distinction of being christened a new name — Have you ever stopped and wondered what the hell “Easter” meant? Again, from Wikipedia:

The English and German names, “Easter” and “Ostern”, are not etymologically derived from Pesach and are instead related to ancient names for the month of April, Eostremonat and Ostaramanoth respectively. According to the 8th century Christian monk and historian Bede, this month was dedicated to the pagan fertility goddess Eostre.

The name Easter was derived from a celebration of Eostre, the goddess of fertility! All of these celebrations are just derivatives of celebrating the coming of Spring. Hence, the occurrence around the Spring Equinox and the themes of rebirth. Also, rabbits represent fertility (That’s where the expression “We f@*#ed like rabbits!” came from) and eggs represent birth, for obvious reasons. However, in other parts of the world, the whole notions of symbolism and metaphors were lost on various groups of people.

In Japan, Shintoists have their own Fertility/Spring Equinox celebration called Hounen Matsuri. As part of the festivities on this day, dozens of people march through the streets carrying above their heads the ultimate symbol of fertility: a giant wooden penis. I swear I am not joking:

Giant Wooden Penis for Hounen Matsuri in Japan

Maybe they just eschewed metaphors, preferring instead to be more to-the-point! I hope the kids don’t go on wooden penis hunts. More pictures here.

It’s been lots of fun poking fun at these holidays, but I want to finish now on a more serious note. I imagine at this point you see the parallels among all of these different Spring celebrations. Perhaps you’re like me and feel disinterest, or maybe even disdain, towards the respective holiday from your particular religion because you never saw any point in celebrating it as you grew up (I became an atheist at 10). My intent here is to not only restore the real meaning to these mythicalized celebrations in your minds, but also to bring your attention to the fact that the annual rebirth of the Earth in the Spring is genuinely worthy of celebration:

There’s more warm, radiant and life-giving sunlight, as the days grow longer. Birds return from their winter vacations and fill the air with song. Cool breezes and trees grow new leaves, painting the formerly barren landscape a luscious green. Butterflies begin to flutter by, against the backdrop of pretty blue skies. Life has begun anew.

I realize I am waxing poetically, and I know I’m talking about things that might be difficult for jaded Western minds to appreciate — and I am no exception. However, the practice of mindfulness in my life has, on many occassions, created a space in me that’s allowed for a deep, heart-felt appreciation for such things. Sometimes after meditating on the weekends, I like to just stand on my back porch and bask in all the pleasing sights, smells, sounds and textures, most of which I already named. I also enjoy the freshness and more variety of fruits and vegetables that have become available.

If these are the kinds of things that you find difficult to connect to emotionally, I highly recommend you learn how to meditate. Then you can come celebrate the rebirth of the Earth with me.

Happy Easter! To see the maligned easter bunny in action, Read the rest of this entry »

My pal Will Hudson just sent me a link to an article in the Orlando Sentinel about guilt-free onion rings that sound awesome! Basically, you make them by using egg whites instead of whole eggs and crushed up corn flakes instead of flour (I’d probably use a rice cereal instead because corn sucks). Then you pop ‘em in the oven, as opposed to playing frying pan lifeguard and tossing life preservers into a pool of hot oil. However, I would consider sauteeing them in a little olive oil after they’re baked for extra crispiness and to give you oily fingers (Onion rings just wouldn’t be the same without that). Here’s the full recipe:

Guilt-Free Onion Rings
Yield: 4 servings.

1/4 cup each: fine dry bread crumbs and finely crushed cornflakes
1/8 teaspoon each: salt and cayenne pepper
1 to 2 medium yellow onions, sliced 1/4-inch thick and separated into rings
2 slightly beaten egg whites
Vegetable cooking spray

1. Heat oven to 450 F. Spray large baking sheet with nonstick spray coating.
2. In shallow pie plate combine bread crumbs, cornflakes, salt and pepper. Dip onions into egg whites, then in crumb mixture.
3. Arrange onion rings in single layer on prepared baking sheet. Spray onions with nonstick spray coating.
4. Bake 12-15 minutes or until onions are tender and coating is crisp and golden.

Nutrition information per serving

Calories 52, Fat trace, Carbohydrate 9 g, Protein 3 g

It’s really quite an interesting article, discussing the health benefits of onions (”flavonoids and more than 50 sulfur-containing chemical compounds”), why they make us cry (”Cut an onion and the cell walls will rupture, producing thiopropanal sulfoxide, a substance that gives them their pungent smell and the ability to irritate the eyes and make us cry”) and how to shop for them and cook with them.

It also discusses their troublesome relationionship with potatoes.

Hello again, and welcome to my new life! Er, I mean, my new blog. Well, it’s a new blog about my new life. Ya see, a lot has happened since you and I last interacted like this… whoever you are that’s reading this. And whoever you are, I appreciate you stopping by and sharing this moment with me. Even though you are just reading some text on your computer screen…

But I think it’s much more than that. Look deeper and you’ll see something special behind these paragraphs: a unique consciousness expressing itself through written words. When your own unique consciousness perceives these words, a connection is made and our experiences become intertwined.

Hey, wait!

Come back!

I promise I won’t get any deeper — at least not this time, anyway. I’m letting you off easy. For now, just know that it brings me great joy to have the opportunity to express myself and connect with people through my writing. However, let this serve as a warning:

All ye who enter here, prepare to be challenged, delighted, stimulated, touched, entertained, amused, inspired, persuaded, enthusiasmed and sometimes, if you’re really lucky, snuggled.

Oh, and one more thing before I go: If this relationship is going to work, then I’m going to need your participation as well. Please feel free to leave a comment for me if you feel the slightest inkling to do so. I look forward to your thoughts, too.