2015 to 2016

Does anyone else look back at who they were 12 short months ago and wonder who that person is?  What a year!  I am amazed that I can experience the best year of real estate I have ever had (like a good 2X better than the last best year) and at the same time have my body completely shut down on me. I can experience such deep connections with some people in my life while realizing I have to let others go.  I learned such amazing lessons this year in every area of my life – about trust in other people, trusting the outcome, trusting the path will show itself, trusting in karma, and most importantly trusting myself.  2016, for me, will be about balance, connecting on a deeper level with those I love, creating new relationships with people on my same path, and continuing to grow my business.  Cheers, 2016, I am ready for you!

I would have posted this to FB but it will not let me copy and paste from an outside document. Let’s assume that means it is not meant for pubic consumption by my friends.


Advice for my younger self

I am on a little jaunt of self discovery today.  Or….I am thinking about discovering some self. It feels good.  I feel ready for growth.

I am reading and popping around the internet and I see an author writing some advice to their younger self. And I wonder what would I tell me from the advanced age of almost 42?

Sex:  Have more of it.  Be more open.  Less worried about what it means (to you and about you).  Experiment.

Body:  Love it.  It is all you have.  It will never be perfect but it will be perfectly you and others will love it just as it is.

Love: Seek it out.  Be open.  Take what love is given to you and return it in the best way you can.

Go to college.  Use a condom.  Ask more questions.  Take your health seriously.  Find things you love and let them enrich your life.  Do not be afraid to trust.  Or be hurt.  It will happen anyway.  And it is not a reflection on you.

Perfect does not exist.  Stop striving for it.  Stop taking everything as a criticism.  It is an opinion.  Grow.  Learn.  Make more mistakes.

Believe.  That you are beautiful and worthy and lovable. In miracles and good things.

Let things go.  Not everything is meant to be forever and that is ok.  Wish it well and move on.  Continue on your own path.

And no matter what know you will be ok.  You are a survivor.  And you will always find a way.

New Year New You

Nah…it is always the same me.  Much as I would love to wake up that calm woman.  The one who exudes warmth and comfort and confidence.  Not the prickly woman I am, afraid of being hurt again.

Your heart expands when it’s broken.

A shattered heart mends but it has stretched. The stretching creates room for even more love. In fact, the loveliest people are the ones who’ve been burnt and broken and torn at the seams, yet still send their open hearts into the world to mend with love again and again, and again.

I found that here.

And there is the goal.  Love more, harder, better.  Believe you deserve the love that is returned.  KNOW you are worthy of love.

So, this whole thing is going sideways.  I have no idea what I came here to talk about.

I might have come across rude to someone I am supposed to go out with.  Part of me feels bad, part feels like he is not getting I was kidding.  Most of me does not feel like explaining if he is butt hurt already.

A deal fell apart today.  One I needed.  I needed the money.  So, being broke is fun.

In the middle of all this I am cleaning up my text messages and deleting whole threads.  I delete the attorney in the whole thing.  And then I get a text about 5 minutes later “A”.  That is it.  WTF?  I ignore it for a bit.  Then delete it too because I do not have the energy.  If he felt bad about forgetting my birthday he should have CALLED when he figured it out. Instead I got “I totally forgot to calendar it.  So sorry love”.  Not even hey, happy birthday.  I mean we are fucking.  And you cannot write down my birthday when I text you and invite, you say yes, I follow up with an email with details, you answer you will be there and then “forget”.

Or?  I just do not mean anything to you.  And I think there we have the truth.

And the sad part is it does not hurt.  What hurts in realizing I am unworthy.  That I do not deserve what everyone else has – to be special to someone.  Just one person.

So, what are my options?

Back off of dating.  Forget looking for someone to share this life with.  Concentrate on me and only me.  Learn to be content with my own company, my friends and my family.  Make new friends.  Expand my social circles.  Work on my business.  Volunteer?  Learn to swim and speed read.  Listen to books on tape and meditate.  Workout often.  Change my body.  Eat clean. Create strong boundaries about what I want and who I let in (meaning no more fuck buddies).  Stop giving power to others.  Make a schedule that works for me and only me.  Make a life list and start checking boxes.  Learn to accept that plans do not always work out as you want and the journey is all the sweeter for it.  Be open.  Let go of past hurts, wounds and scars.  They are a part of my story not a part of me.  Cry.  Go ahead and cry.

I love you. And not a day goes by that I don’t tell you.


I love you. And not a day goes by that I don’t tell you.

But the silent poetry that throbs in my chest cannot be uttered in three little words—or 3,000 for that matter. Whenever I try to describe the way I feel for you, every word seems trite and hollow; the whole English language insufficient.

Maybe if I write it, raw and uncut. If I pour myself out, and breathe passion fire into these words and make them live, they might come into your heart and dance. Maybe when you read this it will take you there—to where the wild drums are beating, where pain and bliss both run together, where lovers die into each other, and are born again…

I want you to know this feel this.

When I say “I love you,” what I really mean is that I want you. From the very first time you ran your fingers through my hair, I have longed for you—for your touch, your embrace, your taste on my lips.

You turn me on. It’s undeniable. It’s chemical. It’s electric.

When I say “I love you,” I really mean that you’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous in your heels and gowns and all your glittering finery, and even more so in your pajamas and blue jeans. When you’re not even trying, when you let go and just be carelessly, naturally you, it takes my breath away—like a sunset reflected in still water, or a starry night so clear you can see the Milky Way poured out across the sky.

When I say “I love you,” I mean that I love your form, your body, your arc and elegance. I love the curve of your neck, your breasts, your back and your hips. You embody pure woman from the curls in your hair down to your ankles and toes. Like no one else can, you awaken the man in me, the beast in me, the passion and hunger and lust.

I love how you move, your effortless grace. I love how you walk, your rhythm and sway. I love how you dance. I love how we fuck­—how we breathe and thrust and grind as one. One pulse, one pleasure, one ecstatic culmination; a prayer, a holy communion.

When I say “I love you,” I mean all of you, just as you are. I love your silliness and your playfulness, how easily we can laugh at ourselves and at life. I love your courage, your strength. I love your jealousy and insecurity. I love your (sometimes painful) honesty. I love how you really walk your talk and take responsibility for your own “stuff.” I love your willingness to face your fears and grow.

I love who you are, deep down—the timeless innocence I see in your eyes. Underneath everything you say and do I see a pure and selfless intent, a kind and compassionate soul.

When I say “I love you,” I mean I trust youI respect you. I admire you. I adore you.

When I say “I love you,” I mean that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for every time I take you for granted. I’m sorry for every time I’m too busy, too distant, too self-absorbed to make time for you. I’m sorry for every time I fall short of being the man you deserve.

When I say “I love you,” I mean that I love this dance of loving each other. I love how it constantly calls me to go deeper, to walk my talk, to own my shit, to face my fears and grow. I love sharing life with you—the triumphs and the failures, the laughter and the painful silence.

When I say “I love you,” I mean my life is better with you in it. I’m a better man because of you. And the more I come to know you, the more I want to know. I miss you when you’re not around. I’m grateful for every moment we’re together.

When I say “I love you,” I mean I want to be the one you turn to when you’re hurting. I want to be the one who listens. I want to hold you in my arms. I want to take care of you. I want to give you something to stand on in this crazy, constantly changing world.

I want to make a home and a family with you. I want you to be my partner, my lover, my Radhe—the yin to my yang. I want to wake up next to you in the morning. I want you beside me when I close my eyes at night. In a universe of infinite possibilities, on a planet of seven billion human beings, I want you.

Baby, the next time I grab you as you’re passing by, put my arms around your waist and pull you close, kiss your sweet lips, look deep into your eyes and say “I love you,” this is what I really mean:

Here I am—body and soul, sinner and saint, warrior and fool, all of my love and all of my baggage—all of me. Here I am, with open arms.

I see you—mother, daughter, sister, lover, the light and the darkness, the goddess and the scared little girl—all of you. I want you, all of you, you and only you, just as you are.

I have a place here in my heart for you.