Autobiography

So fully have I stepped into a life I created in my mind’s eye, a life that I called to out loud, singing and dancing on roof tops, for this life, I burned prayers and dipped my hair in the Ganges, for this life I built small rock towers near temples in Kyoto, for this life I prostrated in glorious sunrises on the roof of my dorm in Seoul, for this life I read Osho books and sat at the feet of Muthanna listening to his creamy voice guide me into my own light, for this life I created masterpieces of torn magazines and plastered them on free wall space in my small studios, for this life I travelled on airplanes and sold beauty to anyone who wanted to feel safe desiring perfection, for this life I sat in hard chairs and spoke to strangers over hours of awkward self-reflection, for this life I lived in Israel and danced through its deserts, for this life I lived in London and walked my most confident gait through stone streets and cold faces, for this life I sweat in cotton over vinyl mats as if elongating my body to its fullest parameters would bring me to the edges of my dreams where I could then grab a hold and be taken up and away into the soft blue promise of them, for this life I chopped kale into every angle and served it each possible way from gestation to calcination, for this life I held boulders under warm ocean waters and ran on soft sand immersed while my lungs burst until I let go and bobbed breathlessly to the top, for this life I stood in long stances with great artists of martial movements and let my body be taken down again and again for the wrap of a new belt, for this life I poured every cell of energy and movement onto wooden floors, dancing with graceful bodies colliding in experimentation rolling over and around one another, sometimes being thrown into the air where I would find flight and a new freedom to live for, for this life I crawled through the dry autumn leaves in Central Park and flailed my arms in ecstatic jolts of striving while an artist witnessed shamelessly through her lens, for this life I basked in the bohemian ethos of downtown Manhattan and scurried behind bars serving and sloshing drinks across the counter with a strong and sexy smile waiting to be discovered, for this life I sat for hours alone with my breath and the amorous descant of new birds that might bring me to the great golden light any moment, for this life I jumped on stages and tossed my hair wildly on club floors from Beijing to Barcelona announcing my fire and freedom to all who would witness, for this life I talked and negotiated love while a clock ticked away at $3 a minute, for this life I rode the awkward hump of a camel into deserts that swallowed me up in crystalline sand and delivered me onto the shores of the Red Sea. Thank you. I am filled with this life and all that I experience from here forward is a great gift that I humbly receive.