Writing has been my Get Out of Jail card. It has given me back to essence. This world was designed to take me prisoner. It has done a really good job. I look like someone designed by Adaptable, Inc. I am socially meek and outwardly conforming.  I sally forth into the world bedecked in things that will help me fit in. Of course, this is esoteric wisdom. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t kick a sleeping tiger. Pick your battles and all that.

But in my soul the fire of creativity rages, burning away the subterfuges created by a sin-filled world. That fig leaf had Adam and Eve in thrall. Nudity of the soul is a glorious thing to behold. There are no pockets to hold your “stash” of false concepts. No way to get high on unreality. Just the truth, ma’am. Just the truth.

As I live out Act III, as Leonard Cohen calls it, I am getting freer and freer from my ego. Oh, it lays traps for me all right, but I get out of them quicker and quicker. It wants me to “fit in, adapt, be a good girl.” And I am telling it to go screw itself. It doesn’t like that so much.

You see, rocking the boat throws you directly into the water and you either swim or drown. If you swim, you have a chance of making it to shore. And if you drown, at least you are free of social encumbrages. Is there a reason that encumbrage sounds like taking umbrage? I like to think so. The only thing I want to take is a trip to freedom. Ironically, it’s a round trip, nonstop nonrefundable ticket. It’s the only ticket to ride!