When begging to be more connected to your fellow humans makes you feel even further apart…

How did we get to THIS point in time?

How in the hell did we let this happen?

Oh, and we definitely let this happen. Whether through anger, apathy or psychotic spite, WE let this happen and only we can pull our battered hearts and minds back from the gaping black maw of total emotional, intellectual and moral annihilation.

Welcome to the Ununited States of Division. In this new world, we insult those who refuse to adhere to outdated mores and we dig in deep, shaking our heads in steadfast opposition to any belief that is counter to those taught to us by good old Mom and Dad. Never giving a thought to the times Mom and Dad espoused racist and misogynistic ideologies by applying labels like “those people can’t be trusted” to minorities they had a beef with and “women need to know their place” when discussing equal pay for equal work.


Or, when announcing your plan to go to college. “What? Do you think you are better than us or something?” Get married to a nice man who will take care of you they said. Okay, umm, but what if that isn’t what I want? “What YOU want? That’s a fairytale. People like us (women) don’t have the luxury of independence.” 

Damn Mom! Great fucking advice. Sorry, but you’ll need to step aside because my free will and intense determination are about to do a burnout on your puritanically Stepford-esque mindset. Does not compute…..never will compute.

Personal refrain aside, I hear the rousing cry from the male caucasian throng and from distant school acquaintances and formerly close family members alike; “Why can’t it be like it used to be?” You know, when everyone didn’t know everyone else’s political or religious views. Like, you know, in the good old days! Yeah, let’s go back to that!

When? The 20th century or before? Anytime from 1900 to before the internet being gifted to the populace and before they really got to see just how badly average people were being taken advantage of and abused? That time? Yes?  Oh, I see…before people became aware of how shit really goes down! Got it.


I rant about my wish for humanity to get it together. To think about how purposeful insensitivity maligns and erodes the hearts and minds of the altruistic until there is nothing left but take, take, take it all before THOSE people try to get it first! Win at all costs even if it means trampling those with sincere intent and compassion to spare for any and all.

A pleading hand is extended to bridge the massive gap that divides us only to be slapped down in derision. “LOSERS! Only the smartest, richest and most devious will prevail! Suckers won’t know what hit them again in 2020!” 

It’s all pathetic and sad and also, predictable. So predictable that even though it hurts my heart to see and hear the evil the supposed righteous perpetrate I am comforted by the notion that my soul’s hot rod, fueled by renewed determination and copious amounts of free will is still ready to hit the road!

We are only isolated if we allow it and I DO NOT allow it! I get that some fear a power shift and they fear this because of how shitty they treated those viewed as “beneath”  them and worry that the desire for retribution will be too strong to resist. I get that completely and, trust me, dishing out some sweet, sweet retribution does sound mighty delicious but, I’m better than that. We are better than that.

Learn it and then live it so the chains of fear may release you. It’s a big world out there! Stop being a fucking disappointment!!!

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Loyalty and freedom; two words that don’t mean what many people think they mean.

Words. I know a lot of words. I use a lot of words.

They may not all be the BEST words or the SMARTEST words or the RICHEST words but the ones I know get the job done.

*Click each hyperlinked BEST WORD below for it’s equally SMART and RICH definition*

And, just to clarify I am indeed poking fun at the Grand Orange Wizard of DC and his obsessive need to TELL anyone that will listen or read a disjointed toilet tweet just how SMART and RICH he is and how all of his rage influenced decisions are the BEST.

I don’t have to pretend to be anything. I let people take in my words and then make up their own mind without requiring a loyalty oath or a DNA test. The only test I require of the people in my life is the DON’T BE A DICK TO OTHERS test. You treat others like second class citizens, no matter what walk of life or country they are from and we won’t be friends, ever.

If the measure of your GREATNESS is determined by how many people you can tear down in order to artificially build yourself up then you are not the best at all. You are hollow. And, rotten…just like this tree below.


Recently I told a dear friend that I finally felt FREE. I told them that I finally had an actual HOME and what that meant to me. We chatted back and forth about the difference between freedom or being unburdened or some other word that describes being untethered from the burdens of the past and it was nice. In this comfortable exchange of words, ones  I was able to choose without hesitation, I could both feel and see my path to reconnecting with my soul and finding true liberation.

THAT was the WORD I was looking for!!! LIBERATION!

I have liberated myself from the past and the people who built mile high roadblocks all around me. I crawled up and out. No longer contained. No longer quietly taking it. I am and furthermore will now be most LOYAL to myself.  And, no matter what crazy-making gaslighting words those opposed to personal liberation use…to myself I will remain most steadfastly true.

When we lose our own ability to think freely and choose freely then peace will remain out of reach for those that need it most. Our peace, the peace that should belong to the collective GOOD of the world will remain stamped down under the foot of those who oppress in order to profit financially and to stroke their huge ego.




Read up on why powerful women are seen as so threatening…

No one will take my ability to be me away nor will they force contradictory views upon me to wear like a razor wire collar. Hypocrisy will not be made invisible, hidden behind a costume crafted to depict biblical morality. No, it will not. I will be the wind that continues blowing, gusting to create massive billows that rip their charade into undeniable tatters. The squeaky wheel gets the grease and the loudest thunderclap produces the most spectacular lightning.





My power is my ability to speak the truth and not be swayed by the purposeful nonsense of those who do not want me to be liberated, outspoken or educated. That may be their wish but wishes don’t always come true sweeties and this woman has many arrows at the ready to shoot down liberation killing bombs. It’s the AMERICAN WAY after all! Right? Or is that only reserved for white Christian males? It’s a great time to have a penis and a bible!

I see what is going on. I always have. It’s just that now the overtness of the self-labeled “right” has never felt so wrong and I am at an age where I no longer give a shit whether some old white fucker values my contributions to this world or not.  So now, I will continue to contribute at an even faster pace just to doubly piss the privileged  “right” folk off.

You may have written the rules and started the war but I am exceptionally adept at being versatile and can change direction at the drop of a Southern Gentleman’s Hat.

Take cover boys!


© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Moving on

I moved.

Both physically and mentally.

It was time.

The house I lived in for 18 years, a house filled with good ghosts and bad ghosts, the specters of a past I have both hated and loved. So what now? The answer to that is this; I finally get to go to a place I am wanted, loved and respected. And, it feels nice.

Some people are miserable after they move…I was not!

I’m not saying that no one has loved me in my past. My grandparents loved me, aunts, uncles, cousins and I’m sure, somewhere deep in the cortex of their brains, my parents and siblings loved me at one time. They had an odd way of showing it but I am sure a small sliver of like, if not love, was there briefly. And if not, I am not going to lose any sleep over it.

Bye, bye, bye…

The stories my former house can tell are a mixture of hilarity, aggravation, joy, anger and finally, resignation. Some I recall with relish and others I wish would slip quietly from my mind, never to be replayed again.


I feel the same way about most of my childhood homes as well and we moved around a lot! But, none of those homes had my name on the deed nor did I pay the mortgage. This house was paid for not only with my hard-earned wages but also a pound of flesh here and there combined with nearly every ounce of my self-respect.

And now, its sold. A done deal. A new start for someone else and I am glad.

My only hope is that the bad juju does not stay attached to either the house or myself.

Release, restore and relax!!!! It’s over woman. You are finally free!

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Willfully Ignorant or Ignorantly Willful?

What keeps us in the dark? Do we choose to stay uninformed because it seems safer or do we actively seek out flawed information to feed our own biases? Does being viewed as “right” matter more than actually being factually correct? I have many questions about this because I have seen the avalanche of scorn heaped upon the supposed “educated elite” by self-labeled conservatives or evangelicals and the snarky ridicule launched back in retaliation by those of a more liberal or progressive mindset.

I, myself have been insulted by family members who see me as “putting on airs” just because I have a college degree. I know they are lashing out in reaction to their own insecurities and not because of anything I have said. Not once have I said anything to them about this topic but it still doesn’t surprise me to have venom directed my way in the form of  “I may not be college educated” passive-aggressive comments. I never had to say anything to trigger this response. It was bound to happen because I chose to take advantage of an opportunity that was offered to me but not them. Simple as that.

The words “ignorant” and “arrogant” are bandied about as the ultimate politically charged insults to throw during an argument that isn’t going as planned but I like to think of both as a temporary state.  Everyone is ignorant or lacking knowledge or awareness in one way or another. There is not a single person on this grand green Earth that knows everything so let us all get past this point right now, shall we? The purpose of education is to fill in the gaps and improve our reasoning skills and worldview.

So, what makes the state of being uninformed attractive? If it is purposeful…what happened to make this route a reasonable one to take?  Who or what shaped your views on higher education? Was is a religious, socio-economic or maybe even a political influence that acted as the guiding force? Or, was it just a simple lack of desire to learn new information? It’s okay to admit to feeling lazy! It’s also okay to consider that maybe learning about boring things isn’t for everyone and seeking out subjects that spark imagination might be a better option. The great thing about learning is that there is a little something for everyone. Gasp! EVERYONE???? Yes, everyone.

Willful Ignorance and Self-Deception

Choosing to stay unaware and unconnected both helps and hinders, that is a fact, so which side of the equation are you on? We may not be immediately hurt by the information we don’t know (ignorance is bliss) but eventually not knowing certain things can impact our future earning capacity and, more importantly, it can impact how we see the world around us or even our mental health. If our worldview is negative then odds are great that our ability to function positively within said world will be impacted negatively and, to some, the only way around this would be to isolate. Choosing to let fear act as the decision maker is sometimes easier than actually plodding forward and stepping outside of the comfort zone. After years of this, though, that zone gets smaller and smaller.

Why people choose to isolate…

Sadly, the need to pay bills, access food and just generally be outside kind of prohibits the hermit lifestyle for me because I like being around others once in a while and would go stir crazy in the company of one. Experiencing everything the world around me has to offer, good or bad, is too tempting to turn down and…IT IS A FREE EDUCATION! FREE!!! For every shitty life event I have endured, 1,000 positive lessons have been born. And, being able to relay these life lessons to others not only helps me cope…it helps others feel less alone, less odd, less angry, less sad. We suffer, we take notice and do things differently moving forward and then, we LEARN. What is so bad about that?

Free Online Education Options…Yes, FREE!

Nothing is bad about that.

It is FEAR that prompts attacks on sense, sensibility, and empathy. Caring about and taking care of others doesn’t fill the bank accounts of the green addicted. And, THAT is what all of this push to keep people uneducated is about. If those in power can keep you fearful, if they can play to your insecurities, then you will not question their nasty words and deeds. Looking the other way should be a new resume “skill” apparently because I see a lot of folks who excel at that. “If I don’t see it myself or experience what you have then it doesn’t matter and deserves no attention!”

Yeah, keep telling yourself that Sunshine. Eventually, we all get kicked in the ass by those in “power”, or those wishing to obtain power. And, the best way to protect ourselves is to EDUCATE ourselves!!!!!!




© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

It’s Time To Change…

You have no idea how long I have been waiting to write this! An eternity, a long, lovely time since I wore flowy retro hippie skirts or baggy cut-off denim overalls with one strap hanging loose and wrists full of hemp bracelets while sitting around the hacky sack circle.

No, I’m not talking about the 60’s, I’m speaking of that twilight time between 1988 and 1994 when formerly materialist Gen Xers decided to get all trippy, waxing poetic with peace or ankh signs hanging from ears and necks and the cloying scent of patchouli mixed with Chloe or Giorgio Red. It was like a small corner of MTV and Madison Avenue fell into an acid trip in which the crappy things in life just didn’t matter anymore.

And, life does some crappy things to you with “fashion” being one of the most cringe worthy at times but honestly, I enjoyed this time a lot because it brought me the closest to not giving a shit than I’ve ever been until right here, right now. If anyone gets that last reference and can message me with the correct answer I will mail you this:


Well, not this one exactly but something like it that doesn’t smell like  bong water….

Most people come to terms with their childhood sooner or later, the embarrassing pictures and stories but teenage years and early twenties are harder to grasp because we both loathe them and long for them in the same breath. Take them or leave them but either way they define us the most and write the story of who we really are with the sharpest clarity.

It’s the ugly truth of angst that motivates people to reject or embrace the path they need to be on in life in order to succeed or fail; this is everyone’s turning point. Go or stay, live or die, crash and burn or pull up and soar! These are the days (another reference there) in which we learn to bask in the glory of true impending freedom or we get stuck in the mud of confusion and woe is me gloom. When it’s time to change we know it but what if the costume you picked out and tried on isn’t for a role you want to keep playing? The short answer is this: Take it off! There will always be someone waiting to pick it up so pass it along and search for your one true fit in this giant garage sale called Life.

Hanging out with dreamers, also called “losers” by those afraid to shed their own ill-chosen costumes of societal pigeonhole backlogging, became my wish back then.  And now, that desire is back. I like people who smile even when rain is pouring down and I adore those that brush off criticism like a mere crumb on their peasant blouse. No worries.

Life ain’t no big thing once you stop over thinking and just keep on rolling. Love one another and mind your own shit because stepping in others isn’t cool man. Not cool at all. Is it naive to think I can get this back? I don’t think so and my conviction to change becomes that much stronger because the way I have been living so far has been nothing more than a means to an end…the ultimate end…like spinning over and over, unfulfilled, until my breath just stops. Who wants that?


I want to love AND live, not just one or the other and in order to love the life I’m living I have to change because nothing is truly sustainable without adjustment and adaptation yet, so many are afraid of such a benign word like “change.” I’m not entirely sure why but can guess that it involves a fear of being honest about what they really want and admitting that certain career or educational paths just can’t lead them there.

We all fear because that is what prompts us to take missteps and it’s also how we learn so embrace the dreams, the dreamers and their ability to let go and just live. Now, everything else will just fall into place once you pull the stick of rigid expectations out of your ass and then the real party can start. When life is hard, you have to change. Come on, let’s dance shall we?



A place for everything and…everyone put in their place

There are times when I wake up in the middle of the night, heart pounding and anger flared from a random memory that decided to make itself known again to my subconscious. One such memory was of an encounter with a person, who obviously peaked emotionally in high school, trying to put me in my place because I dared to invade her social circle with my lower class, almost food stamp qualifying background. It was a moment I hadn’t thought about in eons, because it was that long ago, but still a moment when I realized that there are some pretty awful people in this world masquerading as fine, upstanding citizens.

I won’t detail what was said because that would give too much attention to a woman who obviously can’t function without attention, good or bad, but let’s just say that it was the equivalent of a small child sticking out their tongue and doing the “Na-Na, Na, Na-Na, Na” thing. In the moment I was taken aback but not totally surprised because she never gave me the impression that she ever accepted me as an equal but rather, viewed me as an object of disdain and mockery for not being a former cheerleader, sorority sister or over-achieving Super Mom whose life revolved around her children’s accomplishments. I was part of the, “Oh, you’re a working mom” sect and she was fortunate enough to be married to a doctor, which was wonderful but not necessary to point out all the time. “My husband, who is a doctor….” became a suspiciously purposeful reminder of what I was not now nor would I ever be which was rich, popular and accepted. It hurt a little but I somehow managed to survive and move forward in life obviously.

I remember that a few of her mottos were, “public school is for poor people, not us” or “we are involved in ballet, gymnastics, soccer, and tennis simultaneously,” and she never shared anything about herself, anything that would make me empathize with or feel connected to her. All she gave out were news flashes about how wonderful her kids were followed by passive-aggressive comments on my parenting choices. Thanks, but I never asked you…is what I should have said but I’d usually just turn away in embarrassment or move back into my spot closest to the door, at the ready to bolt. I was the outsider in the bunch so who was I to stand up and tell her off?

Why did it bother me so much? The verdict from the popular crowd was that I was socially awkward and jealous because I grew up poor and didn’t learn how to interact with upper class people and lacked the manners and charm to ever fit in hence the need to be constantly put in my place. But, what was my place? If they knew they never told me directly but judging by the nasty looks, rude remarks and blatant brush offs it must be a pretty awful place. Good Lord! How was I ever allowed to walk the same streets as these amazing social beacons and high yield stock option recipients?

In thinking back, I know now that they aren’t all powerful and experience odoriferous flatulence and fecal evacuation just like anyone else roaming this planet and that it, in fact, does not smell like roses. Looky there!  I made farting and shitting sound pretty classy now didn’t I? Everyone does it, even the ultra-fortunate but somehow, being human and acting human (faulty, emotional, kind-hearted, polite and humble) is something to be shunned like a Louis Vuitton knock-off. Nope, not good enough for us, this human thing is well, too proletariat.  We are Gods!

At least that is what I used to think these one-dimensional harpies thought about all, gasp, poor people but then I realized that not everyone was like that and I was judging all upper class people based on my interactions with a few, to put it honestly and bluntly, assholes. Money can’t change an asshole into a humanitarian, the asshole traits are still there under the surface waiting to spring forth with the most minimal provocation. But, good people surely don’t lose that inherent trait to be kind to others or to offer a supportive word or gentle hug when it’s needed most just because they find themselves on the abundant receiving end of financial good fortune right? I have met a few over the past few decades so I know more are out there, they have to be!

Make yourselves known because only you can prevent rampant asshole fires…that sounds awful, let me rephrase. Only you, the kind and polite money attracting people of the world can turn the tide in this poor=lazy, unmotivated and therefore unworthy atmosphere. I’m not saying, “Hand over your cash” either so DO NOT be posting any liberal vs conservative blather in the comments section. This is about how I feel not how you feel on the matter because this is MY memory, not yours.

What I am saying is, the more kind and thoughtful interactions people of differing financial backgrounds have the more acceptance those not so financially well-off may feel and acceptance is worth more than gold.  Acceptance helps motivation ignite. Acceptance makes hope possible. It’s so simple yet also so hard for some people to provide. Why? Talk is free. Smiling is free. A respectful handshake and hug are free too just as direct eye contact is. You have no idea how demoralizing it is to have someone look through you or around you but never directly at you.

As for myself, I may not be considered financially rich now but I do okay and feel very grateful for all that I have and the wonderful people I have surrounding me. And while this may have started out as a painful memory of how a horrible woman tried to make me feel bad because of who I am and where I came from its ended up being a story of redemption…for me.  I forgive her for being such a snotty, sarcastic and dismissive person and accept that she must not be a very happy individual. Or, maybe she’s just dandy with how she acts and sees no reason to change. Either way, it’s done, I forgive and no longer have that moment weighing me down.

Sometimes dreams pull you back to the lessons you haven’t completed yet I guess. Lesson #5,006,201,369 down only 5,006,201,368 to go!

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

That one time I was almost on the Nate Berkus Show….when he actually had a show.

Whenever I think about this experience I have to squint and move my eyes back and forth like I am concentrating real hard. The kind of hard thinking that smells like toast burning. Curling, white puffs of smoky grey matter twisting around the skull, knocking to get back in kind of hard thinking. It’s rough being the sort that willingly chooses to keep all the bad stuff up front in the window display of their life while keeping the truly interesting bits and pieces back in the storage area. Dammit! Why do we do this?

Anyway, when Nate Berkus first showed his stylish, elf-like face on the grande dame Oprah’s show I was fascinated. I wanted him to release me from the dungeon of “old lady” decorating suggestions (this is a WHOLE OTHER story in itself) and help me find my true style. I wanted a designer middle finger, if you will, that I could display every time said “old lady” tried to tell me how cheap or tacky the things I really loved were.

Take that ya old bat! Nate likes it and I like it so go choke on your frilly toile curtains and musty transferware dishes hung just so on the wall. ON THE WALL!  Dishes on the wall scream OLD LADY to me but what do I know? I needed Nate on my side.

Every time he was on I would watch with great intensity, taking notes, honing my decorating style while also learning that my opinions about what I did or didn’t like mattered. I found my voice and my courage to say what I wanted in my house and what I thought was pretentious, trendy bullshit, designed only to lighten the wallet and not my mood. It didn’t always go over well but satisfaction was gained from knowing money can’t buy taste and bullies hate it when their targets grow a backbone. Mine started out as a flimsy balsa wood twig and grew into a mighty reinforced beam of Brazilian walnut. Strong, unyielding and shiny. God, the old lady hated that. Thanks Nate!

Fast forward to 2010 and I’m watching The Nate Berkus Show when I see a little blurb about viewers sending in their stories of overcoming odds to make their dream career come true or something like that. My memory fails me at times but the gist of this was that I sent in an email to the show telling the producers how I always wanted to write but felt held back by the less than supportive people in my life and how I finally ditched them and started writing in earnest. I wasn’t making any money doing it but I still felt free enough to actually let strangers read my scribbles. That was huge a self-conscious, formerly badgered soul that was so unsure of her abilities.

And…I got a call from the show not long after I hit send on that email. I was asked to explain more about my dream, how I wanted to accomplish it and what my roadblocks had been. Great, so far I thought, but then came the shit cloud…Bethenny Frankel.

What did I think of her? Did she inspire me to try to make my dream a reality? Uh, no. Honestly, if I had to give credit to anyone for prompting me to get my shit together it would be a 50-50 split between aging and my therapist, Dr. Tarrasch. A reality show “character” doesn’t even make the list but I sensed they wanted me to gush about how much she helped and inspired me because they wanted her as a guest. The true indication of this came when they asked if I would be willing to stand up and ask her how I could “make my goal of writing a reality” from the audience. Good grief and lumpy gravy, NO! But, I said sure! I wanted to be on that damn show!!!

Next, I was asked to write a little bit more about my goal and when I first became aware of Madam Frankel as the paragon of business acumen and goal reachiness (my own word but it fits) so I did just that. Maybe too well because I didn’t get a callback and the next thing I know ole Bethenny Big Eyes is on Oprah on the date she was supposed to be on my Nate’s show.

What happened? Did she realize she had no viable advice for me or did Nate’s producers just decide to chuck the segment? Or, and I think this is more likely, that publicity hag tied her line to the mothership Oprah and cut Nate loose at the last minute.

She got a better offer and ditched the person that brought her to the dance. And THAT is how Bethenny and many other questionable business entrepreneurs succeed. It’s easy to keep your high heels un-scuffed when walking on the backs of others.

Okay, rant over and memory released. That felt great. Do I still like Nate Berkus? Yes, yes I do and I always will. He’s likable and seems genuine. Did I learn anything from BF? Yes again. I learned that the outcome would have been the same even if I said I didn’t give two shits about her supposed power to influence or motivate because the segment was going to get dumped anyway.

Always be honest about who or what really motivates you because, in the end, self-respect tastes much better than an over-priced watered-down vodka or margarita mix. Go for the damn bourbon you babies! It’s strong, true and never pretends to be what it is not. Now, get your ass out there and work! That’s my advice.

The “little things” that are actually quite large…

A welcome from Reverie…

Small gestures, little acts of kindness, minute details that get overlooking while searching for the big picture…in these, most, if not all answers to, “why am I here” can be found.

Yet, they are little, tiny, unimportant things and we like grand entrances and annoyingly bombastic noise signaling something hugely awesome is about to happen, so much so that many times we miss what is truly “awesome” completely. On to the next big event! And make it larger than the last one please!!!

I like the little things because I find great intricacy and inspiration in their simplicity. A smile given at just the right moment or a nod of accepting acknowledgment.  The sun shining after a particularly shitty day is what triggers my sense of awe in the unending discoveries unfolding around me. It nudges me forward with a, “See? The show ain’t over yet. Stick around to see what else you can do!” And, it’s that anticipation that fuels me and keeps me moving forward; the validation received from the world at large that we are here, we are seen and yet, we have so much left to see, hear, touch and do because we all matter.

And, we do matter. I matter and you matter. Not our things or accomplishments or even our failures but our purposeful connectivity with one another. I smile at you and you smile back in return…or frown, scowl or even, maybe, laugh. All are fine because they are reactions to my action. I caused it simply because I am here! That is power my friends.

When I touch the hand or heart of someone I care for that little thing grows into a large thing that promotes growth, expansion and continued expression. How is that a small or insignificant thing? It is not. It is massive, all important and amazingly enough, free!

Several years ago I had the great pleasure of being introduced to a very wise person who told me all the supposed “big” things I worried about and expressed anger over were horse shit. He also told me that I was the architect of my life, no one else, and it was my responsibility to choose who and what I wanted to be.

I want to be a simple little player in a large extravagant play with a few excellently memorable and quotable lines because I wrote them and I want to set my creations free. I want to see where they float, who they touch and what happens next when they are picked up and carried forward by a new player. The true adventure in life is fluid after all, not planned or plotted but stumbled upon.

Let’s stumble together and maybe the next path we crash onto, laughing or crying, will be one that leads to yet another great experience. Come on! What are you waiting for?

© 2018 L.A. Askew
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to “In the Land of Reverie” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.