Becoming exceptional – bring gasoline and matches

 

My commitment this season is to actively remember to be something exceptional. 

Something that pulls in the eye like a smoothed turquoise stone on a beach of egg-shell white. Like a promise-in-a-bottle in the mundane water of fish-bowl life. I wanna’ be an exceptional sister. An exceptional teacher. An exceptional friend. An exceptional business creator. An exceptional member of planet earth. How? Well, the more I study the complexities of spiritual tradition, the more it looks something like this:

-Become irreplaceable in the inner heart-life of someone besides yourself.

-Get real about not thinking the whole world revolves around you and the “thing you think is you” in the skull-structure of your head.

-Admit that you are really freaking sorry when you act like a do-do bird.

-Absolutely adore yourself. Put your hand on your heart and talk to yourself like a chubby and innocent cherub. And then be disciplined in the practices that make you shine.

-Bring more to the table this Holiday season than your usual petty complaints and cliche hubris surrounding your gluten-free politics and free-range religion.

-Bring more than the old mold that is a bad mold. A mold your daddy gave you, whose daddy gave to him. Break the mold like the outer capping of a gilded egg from the hot and ancient kiln of your DNA. Hand your golden egg to your mother and ask her to forgive you for not forgiving her.

-Bring kindness. Bring a real gaze into someones eyes that says, “I’m actually listening.”

-Be present for one second to the beauty of the lamp-light on your mother’s aging eyelashes as she says something for 4,000th time.

-Be beyond-smart. Be beyond-sexy. Be beyond-cool. Be beyond-bought. Be beyond-Insta.

-Be a silent and empty chamber, willing and desirous to be filled by something Infinite and Eternal.

I long for this for myself. I wish it for you. In my bones I know that when I do this, magic happens in strip-malls and dead-eyed airports and monotonous dinner tables and passionless bedrooms. This alchemy begins in the most insecure and tender spots inside of me – the places of jealousy and fear and rage that make me flee like a nine-year old looking for her fort to hide in.

But these places that I run from are the very places where the sacred magic gets her love-gasoline. They are the places where I can step into becoming exceptional. Join me this January for the course that will give you the tools.

Holding matches,

Katie

 

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