Now Everybody Has Some Secret

When My Father Finally Got Around To Teaching Me To Drive, He Was Impressed At My "natural" Talent For Driving, Not Knowing That I Had Already Been Secretly Driving My Mother's Car Around The Neighborhood. When I Took The Test And Got My License And My Father Gave Me My Own Set Of Keys To The Car One Night At Dinner, It Was A Major Rite Of Passage For Him And My Mother. Their Perception Of Me Had Changed And Was Formally Acknowledged. For Me The Occasion Meant A Private Sanction To Do In Public What I Had Already Been Doing In Secret.

Everyone Has Doors In The Living Room Of Their Lives That They Assume Are Locked. Doors That Lead To Artistic Expression. People Say "i Have No Talent -- I Can't Dance Or Sing Or Paint Or Write Poetry Or Play An Instrument." More Often Than Not The Doors Are Not Locked, Just Closed. One May Turn The Handle, Open The Door And Pass Through Into A Larger Life Space.

Life Is Lumpy. And A Lump In The Oatmeal, A Lump In The Throat, And A Lump In A Breast Are Not The Same Lump. One Should Learn The Difference.

I Believe In Dancing.

I Often Say That I Don't Worry About The Meaning Of Life-i Can't Handle That Big Stuff. What Concerns Me Is The Meaning In Life-day By Day, Hour By Hour, While I'm Doing Whatever It Is I Do. What Counts Is Not What I Do, But How I Think About Myself While I'm Doing It.