Here’s the big secret thing: The reason I’ve been writing all my life is because writing felt safe. Of course if you write, you know safe is not exactly a definition of writing. Writing is, in reality, revolutionary and risky and takes the reader and the writer to places they would not be, if not for the written words spelling out the story, and written words more than spelling out the story, illuminating the truth beneath the story, as Naomi Shihab Nye says, “the words beneath the words.”
So what’s the story? What’s the truth? Don’t think this writer isn’t laughing at the absurd naïveté of those questions.
When I first started keeping journals, there was no Oprah Winfrey network—and the ideas that are almost buzz words and clichés with their own piles of best-selling self-help books and Sirius radio station channels—and online support groups were words of nonconformity that would have, back in the day, landed someone in the social status category of wacko.
But labels are peeling off the containers, and containers are becoming clear and recyclable. Evolution of humanity and spirit and technology is approaching the speed of light. Let there be light.
These words are not meant as pandering for a following. This is an invitation to join the dialogue.
On this day of the new millennium, at the dawning of the Age of Aquarius, I’m stepping out of my quiet meditative mantra, prayer and affirmation-crowed self-dialogues locked in never-to-be-seen or read journals and into the interactive cyberworld. This is an invitation to all, to visit this space. You are invited, as Rilke famously invites us, to “live the questions.” Or as Gene Roddenberry said, “Boldly go where no man has gone before.”
This is not a voyage into no-man’s-land; this is the first page into the land of All man, Cathy Allman.