Sunday Sermon

And so it begins. The disconnect from an overly social world and the return to the deep work that has been simmering inside me since I was a precocious and lovely 11-year-old-girl. The first half of my life was spent old and the second shall be enjoyed young, free of baggage and the narratives of the past. The first was spent in machinations compelled by trauma and childhood. The second shall be borne of wisdom and presence. Creativity and stability are of the utmost importance now. Every moment, a fresh one, untainted by colors, tremors, or habits of before. I know now, after four decades of reading and running and repetition compulsion, that the only way to stop the insanity is to yank the reset button so hard that I only recognize the best parts of me in the mirror, and let them feed me. It’s time to melt the security belt from my thighs and belly. To clear the clog from my throat, unloose the dust from my pen, my paintbrush, and my illustrative toolbox. To feel one hundred percent healthy and alive at all times. To rekindle joy. To live, embodying those silvers that tantalize me now—of the sun, of nature, of music, of dance, of remembrance, and of potential. I contain all the agency to do this. To attain the place where the familiar womb of feeling bad is surpassed by the victorious roar of feeling good.

At the moment, I am a 44-year-old woman who weighs 214 pounds and have lived my life in a web of self-medication and addictions including food, sex, alcohol, and work. I have extensively researched the brain, healing modalities, neuroscience, and myriad other realms to try and understand why I am the way I am, and how one goes about trying to change years worth of hardwiring to become the person they really wish to be. As a reasonably intelligent person, I can grasp the pathology of me clearly, so I have nothing but empathy for all other people who struggle alongside with me in these regards. It is going to be a bitch to completely transform into my full potential so I’ve decided to keep a diary of my process and progress here for one year and see if I can reach my goals of being mentally, physically, and spiritually pure and healthy at the end of that time.

I have gone through bouts of wellness in my life, but something always comes along to pull me from the tracks. Yet today I have the knowledge about my triggers, my habits, and my self-sabotage, and a wide-open space of this blog that demands honesty. Regardless if anyone reads me, I am reading me, and this commitment to documentation is what I am hoping will keep me on the right road.

If your life has caused you to ask for an improved situation—no matter what it is—and you are no longer offering chronic thought-Vibrations that are opposite of your desire, your desire must come to you. But you cannot continue to keep alive within you Vibrational patterns of what you do not want and receive what you do want. That defies the Law of Attraction. – Abraham

My pseudonym here will be Presence Alithea, and like all of you, I am merely a fragment of energy from one source. Yet, also like you, I live in a world that celebrates the individual ego over any remembrance of this inherent connection. I am at what you would call “mid-life” and recognize that I have still have another half of my life to live. I have decided to become the absolute best person I can be and to reach my full earthly potential within all my remaining days. I have thought long and hard about this and have devised a new coda toward ultimate health and happiness on all levels. You see, I wish to live well past ninety, to use my life well, to communicate great things, and then to never come back.


  • Bikram yoga five times a week.
  • Walk 3 miles five times a week.
  • Do strength training and the hula hoop two hours per week.
  • Stick to around 1,500 calories a day of a primarily raw, vegetarian diet. When I splurge, make sure it counts, on something of quality and pleasure, and savor it for the treat it is.
  • Drink no more than 10 alcoholic drinks a week, and no more than 3 per night. Only drink when my boyfriend or I serve wine with dinner, or we go out to eat, or on weekends.
  • Take a full roster of etheriums from Mt. Shasta, collagen, sea and vegetable greens, bee pollen, and other superfoods daily to revitalize and fortify the adrenal system.
  • Work creatively at least four hours a day.
  • Make money writing about art and establish passive income design streams that promote joy, beauty, and other injections of good jujus toward humanity.
  • Sell my books and short stories.
  • Meditate daily.
  • Make art borne from the subconscious and a weeding of all lifelong journals throughout the year, then archive them.
  • Be honest at all times, and gracefully.
  • Make sure everything I say and do is meaningful, intended well, and necessary and is relevant to creativity, love, joy, quality friends, family, spirituality, stability, or health.
  • Visit nature as much as possible.
  • Stay off social media save for a quick check on loved ones on the weekend.
  • Create more than consume.
  • Make every minute matter and be careful not to fall into mindless distractions – there is no time to waste!
  • Don’t spend money on anything unnecessary. Don’t bring anything new into my life, but work to weed out and discard the possessions I currently own.

Two dreams of the past two nights:

I have a new apartment and it’s tiny and it’s in a large building of halls like a hotel. Outside there are plenty of green spaces and common areas. I am excited about its small size, and even though it needs decorating help, I am looking forward to transforming it into my own. My best friend and her artist husband are there to help me move in and encourage me.

The economy of size thrills me, it means I will be able to focus more on my creative endeavors.

I am on a trip to another country where there are huge sand dunes to cross in order to get into concrete art galleries that host many types of work. I spend days doing this. Then back in my hometown, I agree to have lunch with an old boss who is struggling with her responsibilities at the art gallery I used to manage. She is younger than me in the dream and tired of her lot in life. Her husband is having an affair and she has no time for herself.

I leave her feeling grateful I removed myself from that same rat race, that drive toward money, those cold, calculating men. The same obstacles that may have been there for me in the past have now passed. My access to art is self-driven, self-made, borne on the ever shifting sands in the customization of me.


This morning, a woman walked by on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, singing, “I am stressed out.” Singing.