Anniversary of Invincible Joy Rebel

A year ago today, I had a spiritual transformation, mind, body and soul. It happened on a day filled with strange coincidences, that began with me seeing a bird playing, in a way that reminded me of being a teenager and seeing the same thing on the day I officially quit working for my Dad at the amisement park on the beach, after letting a young couple on a first date sit stopped at the top of the Rock O Plane. The day ended with me coincidentally seeing an improv show about a young couple on a first date who sit stopped at the top of a ferris wheel, at an amusement park on the beach.

That day I had a guided meditation, and my mind created metaphorical hallucinations that let me release shame, and embrace aspects of myself represented by a child and a rogue, and there were more coincidences. Things like the meditation saying, “open your eyes and feel the light of healing,” exactly as the sun came out of the clouds and hit my face. A whole day of those coincidences. Synchronicities.

And since then I’ve lived with my whole, complete, individuated self. I have no inner monologue anymore, and I’m so present in a way I’ve never been before.

I wondered a year ago if this change would stick. If I could maintain this through the stress of ordinary living. In hindsight, I can see that the stresses of the last year were a microcosm of the last forty years. And I handled it all so differently then I had before. Not iust due to experience. I made dofferent choices, often and typically effortlessly.

Because there was no change to stick.

There’s just me, here and present. And grateful.

Today was so ordinary. And I’m being intentional about letting go of so much of the past, and being ritualistic about it. Including choosing the last few days to clean and organize some closets. I had some physical reminders of my old apartment and life, just storage containers and things sitting in a closet. Letting that stuff go, with intention, feels freeing. I’ll go into the next year released, and free.

And focused. So focused.

I’m looking forward to what’s next.

Related talks & stories

Fred speaking on this

Why he stopped celebrating his birthday, and what nearly thirty years of strange, sudden loss taught him about staying alive.

A childhood nighttime visitor, a phrase he didn’t understand until years later, and a piece of his family’s history he didn’t know he was carrying.

Personal storytelling in community organizing contexts, using Guide to Creating a Brave Space.

Everyone’s story has value — the smaller, gentler stories of our own lives, no less than the great stories of survival.

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