A car passed us one day while Tupelo and I were driving across the southeastern desert of the U.S. in our motorhome, Bailey. As it zoomed by I caught a glimpse of the bumper sticker on its tail end. “Celebrate Diversity,” it read. “Ooh, I like that,” I said, and proceeded to have many miles of pleasure thinking it over.

I don’t know the driver’s reason for plastering this statement onto his bumper for the entire world to see, but I came up with a long list of my own. As a traveler, I agree wholeheartedly about celebrating the world’s diversity – its peoples, its languages, its customs, its different ways of looking at things, and the big one – its spirituality and many religions.

It seemed to be such a simple statement at first: Celebrate diversity.

Oh yes, let’s do that, shall we?

The deeper I thought about it, the more complicated it got. In this tumultuous time when the world is splitting apart because of the different ways we look at God and the opposing interpretations of religious teachings, the simple sentence isn’t as innocent as it first appears. Now we have to question our beliefs and see if we truly can celebrate how different some of the world’s peoples act in the name of God. One is waging war on infidels, the other on terrorists. It’s hard to draw a solid line between what is right and what is wrong and then decide which side we are on. Diversity is dividing us.

If we choose to not take a side, then yes, we can celebrate with a clear heart the diversity of the world in all of its guises and contradictions. But it’s not easy. It’s hard to stay objective and loving in the face of so much hate. But who said personal and spiritual growth would be easy? Not me.

And perhaps the tougher question: How do we celebrate the diversity in ourselves? How can we celebrate who we truly are and not become so judgmental it’s to our detriment, not to our enlightenment?

We are complicated creatures. Our emotional stew is made up of so many ingredients it has kept therapists’ couches warm for centuries. And our mental state? Oh man, I don’t even want to think about that. And there are so many conflicting philosophies and beliefs when it comes to our own personal spirituality we’re afraid we might die and go to hell before we find which is the right path to be walking on.

If we want to celebrate diversity in the world, we must first celebrate the diversity in ourselves. If we can, change what can’t be celebrated, embrace that which can’t be changed – for instance, what Dr. Carl Jung’s called our shadow. We are not all good and not all bad and when it comes to choosing sides, we need to be on our side, no matter what.

Bumper stickers are one thing, putting the sentiment into action is another.

Celebrate diversity. Oh yes, let’s do that, shall we?

Everyone loves to laugh (well, almost everyone) . . . so this message is a reminder that it’s good for us.

I wrote a song a while back to help me remember the wisdom of this favorite quote . . .

“Life is too important to be taken seriously.” – Oscar Wilde

Here’s a link to the song . . .

http://www.somemusicmatters.com/DescX.html#Anchor15

Here are a few great ideas about humor, and then an actual example of humor in action:

“Humor is by far the most significant activity of the human brain.” – Edward De Bono

“True humor is fun – it does not put down, kid, or mock. It makes people feel wonderful, not separate, different, and cut off. True humor has beneath it the understanding that we are all in this together.” – Hugh Prather

“A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing.” – Clive James

And now (drum roll please) an example of people wise enough to appreciate the humor in their everyday lives . . .

After every flight, UPS pilots fill out a form, called a ‘gripe sheet,’ which tells mechanics about problems with the aircraft. The mechanics correct the problems, document their repairs on the form, and then pilots review the gripe sheets before the next flight.

Here are some actual maintenance complaints submitted by UPS’ pilots and the solutions recorded by the aircraft mechanics.

(By the way, UPS is the only major airline that has never, ever, had an accident.)

PILOT: Left inside main tire almost needs replacement.
MECHANIC: Almost replaced left inside main tire.
*
PILOT: Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough.
MECHANIC: Auto-land not installed on this aircraft.
*
PILOT: Something loose in cockpit
MECHANIC: Something tightened in cockpit
*
PILOT: Dead bugs on windshield.
MECHANIC: Live bugs on back-order.
*
PILOT: Auto pilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200 feet per minute descent…
MECHANIC: Cannot reproduce problem on ground.
*
PILOT: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.
MECHANIC: Evidence removed.
*
PILOT: DME volume unbelievably loud.
MECHANIC: DME volume set to more believable level.
*
PILOT: Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.
MECHANIC: That’s what friction locks are for.
*
PILOT: IFF inoperative in OFF mode.
MECHANIC: IFF always inoperative in OFF mode.
*
PILOT: Suspected crack in windshield.
MECHANIC: Suspect you’re right.
*
PILOT: Number 3 engine missing.
MECHANIC: Engine found on right wing after brief search
*
PILOT: Aircraft handles funny.
MECHANIC: Aircraft warned to be serious, straighten up, and fly right.
*
PILOT: Target radar hums.
MECHANIC: Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.
*
PILOT: Mouse in cockpit.
MECHANIC: Cat installed.
*
PILOT: Noise coming from under instrument panel. Sounds like a midget pounding on something with a hammer.
MECHANIC: Took hammer away from midget.

Life is Too Important to Be Taken Seriously This is just plain fun . . . an unlikely love song and reminder of the importance of making it a point to deliberately live life in joy, reverance, and with a light-hearted spirit. A good sence of humor always seems to come in handy too! http://www.somemusicmatters.com/DescX.html#Anchor15 Celebrate Life Create your own personal celebration of life by your choices, rather than allowing life to be something that merely happens to you, or around you. http://www.somemusicmatters.com/DescHB.html#Anchor2 Preacher and the Bear I always appreciated the refreshing attitude of faith coupled with a healthy attitude of self-reliance demonstrated by this adventurous preacher’s style of prayer. http://www.somemusicmatters.com/DescAnth.html#Anchor11 Stuff, Stuff, Stuff, Stuff, Stuff About all the stuff you’ve been keeping that’s not good enough to actually use, but it’s way too good to throw away. http://www.somemusicmatters.com/DescAnth.html#Anchor4 You Gotta Have Fun Our moments are fleeting . . . and finite. Too few to squander on “bad news”. We must steer our attention deliberately in order to attract the kind of life we were born to live. http://www.somemusicmatters.com/DescAnth.html#Anchor20 Songs by Tupelo
The Six Mistakes of Man We share the journey, even though each journey is unique. It’s encouraging to know others are also interested in the mysteries of life. It’s inspiring to see others dedicated to living life to the fullest, in spite of the fact that humanity has been making some of the same mistakes for centuries. Your Passion as Your Compass Allow your passions to stretch their wings and the direction of your life could surprise you – in a good way. Celebrate life with passion! Being Present through Sensuality The idea is to occasionally turn off the senses in order to better tune into the aliveness that lies beyond them. The realization that there is something beyond the world of the five senses can provide an “aha” experience, especially at first. With the senses turned off (or even turned down), there remains a vibrant sense of aliveness – the world of feeling and the realm of being. Articles by Tupelo
Why wait for inspiration to strike? Be proactive, and go get it. Better yet, this newsletter brings it to you. “Inspired on Purpose” newsletter by Tupelo Kenyon contains articles, reviews and resources to supercharge your personal development, inspiration, productivity, abundance and joy. FREE e-book Instant download – when you subscribe. Personal Development Supercharger 101 Tips and Techniques by Tupelo Kenyon It’s FREE. Subscribe now. Enter name and email address below: Name: Email:
Privacy policy: Your email address is secure. I will not sell, rent or trade your information to anyone for any reason. Period. – Tupelo Kenyon

57 Asians

21 Europeans

14 Americans (northern and southern)

8 Africans

70 Colored-skins

30 Caucasians

89 heterosexuals

11 homosexuals

6 people would own 59% of the wealth of the entire planet and . . .

All of them will be from the United States of America

80 would have bad living conditions

70 will be uneducated

50 will be underfed

1 would die

2 would be born

1 will have a computer

1 (only one) will have higher education

From this vantage point, there’s an apparent need for solidarity, understanding, patience and education.

Also think about the following . . .

If you woke up healthy this morning, you are happier then one million people that will not survive next week.

If you never suffered a war, the loneliness of the jail cell, the agony of torture, or hunger, you are happier than 500 million people in the world.

If you can enter into a church (mosque) without fear of jail or death, you are happier than 3 million people in the world.

If there is a food in your fridge, if you have shoes and clothes, if you have bed and a roof, you are richer then 75% of the people in the world.

If you have a bank account, money in your wallet and some coins in your pocket, you belong to the 8% of the people on the world, who are well-to-do.

Since you were able to read this . . .

You are likely in the 8% well-to-do group.

You are likely in the 1% group of computer owners.

You are likely in the 1% group with some higher education.

Now, depending on your belief system, this means either . . .

You are very, very lucky.

Or, there is a reason you are among the fortunate few, and you likely had a hand in orchestrating the situation that allows you to live a life of such abundance.

The question is WHY?

By global standards, you are very powerful.

What did you come here to do?

Are you doing it now?

Can you do it better?

You are likely in the well-fed group, comparatively speaking.

Now you have more food-for-thought.

Bon apetit.

This past summer we tackled the daunting task of cleaning out the garage. (I can hear your groan of sympathy from here … thank you.) An unidentifiable mass was stacked to the ceiling and to the back wall. Boxes towered and teetered precariously on each side. To make matters worse, it wasn’t only our stuff. Generations, starting with my grandparents, have lived here before us and each one left their stuff behind. And it wasn’t the good stuff either. Somehow they managed to take that with them. What’s left is mostly crap piled high and wide, leaving barely enough room to step inside.

Tupelo and I stood together at the opened garage door, nearly defeated before we  started as we looked at the mangled mess before us. Luckily, my friend, Lidia, had given me a mantra to mutter as I began to wade through the task at hand. She suggested I ask myself each time I picked something up:

“Do I love it? Do I use it?”

If I answered either of these questions with a positive, then it stayed. If not, out it went. This helped me tremendously. I asked myself this question over and over again throughout the next few weeks, and eventually, we got through it. For the first time ever I saw that Grandpa had built the back wall with logs … I never knew this, and we have lived there since the 90’s.

This mantra, “Do I love it? Do I use it?” can work on many things besides material possessions. We just have to tweak the last one to, “Do I use it for my greater good?”

For instance, a habit or a routine, “Do I love it? Do I use it for my greater good?” Tupelo gets up every morning and does an exercise called the “Five Tibetans.”

Here’s a link to his article about it:
http://www.tupelokenyon.com/2007/03/16/5-tibetan-rites-easy-yoga-for-busy-people/

No matter where we wake up in our motorhome, even if it’s a rest stop by the interstate or a Wal-Mart parking lot, there he is spinning and doing the downward dog. Cars slow down and people point, but this doesn’t stop him. He loves it and he does it for his greatest good. This is a case where a habit or routine is beneficial.

But we all have habits and routines that are not. If we ask ourselves these important questions we see which ones we need to discard from our life. If we’re honest with ourselves, we wouldn’t love it if it weren’t for our greater good, would we?

How about our job? The first question is a biggie. “Do we love it?” If not, why would we want to spend our precious time on earth doing it?

And the place we call home? Same thing. Do we love where we’re living, and do we use this place to nurture our greater good? Simple questions. Big answers.

Relationships? This is a tough one, but the questions need to be asked. One of the greatest gifts this life has to offer is close friends and loving relationships. We hold these close and treasure them. But toxic relationships that are poisoning our well-being should be thrown out. This may take some time and guts, but it can be done.

Another tough subject that can come under scrutiny is our belief system. As we grow in our spirituality and open our minds to new ideas, some of our old beliefs fall by the wayside. Sometimes they are an ingrained habit. We have to wake up to this fact and ask ourselves consciously. “Do we love it? Do we use it to our greater good?” If not, you know the drill.

And what about our thoughts? So much garbage floats through and then hangs around, caught in a negative eddy in our mind. When it’s time to release them, we’ll know it. But it takes a conscious effort to do so.

Old habits, crippling thoughts, past beliefs, stale relationships, stifling jobs, and all the stuff in our lives that we don’t love and that we don’t use for our greater good can be cleaned out if we just buckle down and do it. It’s a daunting task, but once we see the results, it is oh so worth it.

Just ask the resident squirrel that now has a nice, cleaned-out garage that he can start filling with a winter’s supply of pine cones. He loves them and he uses them. He has learned this lesson well.

Hi {!name},

We all make mistakes. Or do we?

In life, we have plenty of should-have-dones, and if-I-had-only-knowns, but do we really make mistakes? No, I don’t think so.

Let me explain: A very close sister-friend of mine has had marriages that ended in nasty divorces. Obviously, this saddens her, and unfortunately, she feels unlovable and a failure because of them. We have had many conversations over the years where she bemoans the huge mistakes of marrying these men. I listen because she needs me to, but I don’t agree that they were mistakes.

I look at it like this: There are no mistakes, just hard lessons.

When our choices turn out to be less than what we wanted, it was no mistake we brought these tough experiences onto ourselves. It happened because we were meant to learn that lesson.

Make no mistake, I’m not saying that some choices don’t knock us on our butt. These are the ones that scratch the diamond who we are, but eventually, after the hurt subsides, we are polished because of them. The experience fine-tunes us, and hopefully, makes us smarter. Tall order sometimes, I know. But if we grasp the true meaning behind the raw emotions, hopefully we don’t have to repeat what isn’t for our greater good.

The harder the lesson the more we can glean from it. It may take awhile to lose the heavy emotions and gain a new perspective, but if we’re patient, there will come a time when we can grasp the enormous gift hidden inside. This is key.

But the first step is to believe we never make mistakes. Instead, we can look at it like this: Hard lessons catapult us to being the best we can be. We’re not perfect, don’t claim to be, but we’re expanding our perception to try and see the good in our choices – whatever that may be.

It’s New Year’s Day and we’ve parked Bailey, our RV, out here in the desert. There are a few other road warriors scattered like dice across the cactus and brittlebush but they are far enough away to make it feel like we are here in this arid vastness by ourselves. I’ve found a good spot to write in my journal this morning, out in the kind sun but sheltered from the cruel wind. Yesterday, on New Year’s Eve, I filled my latest journal with one last entry, and then put it away. Today, my journal is a new one. I write #60 in the top corner of the inside cover and turn to the first page, all crisp and new like a freshly picked apple.

The page glows white in the glaring desert sun, blank of thoughts, ideas and aspirations. It looks like a magic page – as if I could write anything I want and it will come true. I try to focus, but I’m dizzy from all the possibilities as my imagination runs wild. I’m an unsupervised kid in an amusement park. I take up my pen and smooth the paper down with my other hand. I am literally turning a new page for the coming year.

Chances are you’re not reading this on the new year. But let’s pretend for a moment, it is. A new year can start at any time, like right now. Especially right now.

Okay, so right now is the first day of the year, agreed? If so, hopefully interest and introspection spike and we immediately evaluate our life. Are we happy? Do we like the direction our life is heading? What can we do to better ourselves? We assess where we stand and look to see if our next step is moving forward, is stagnant, or trying to step backward.

It’s a good day of the year to be completely honest with ourselves – tough to do but important if we are going to realize the changes that need to be made.

Today we bask in possibilities. Standing on the rim of this coming year, we dream of the best possible outcomes. We dream our dreams coming true. If the past year was difficult, hope dances on the horizon.

Today’s the day that we can consciously turn the light on to illuminate what we want most. Light it up from the inside. Everything seems alive, all rushing toward us as fast as the speed of thought.

I write on my magic page, my heart pumping. I’m thrilled to know everything I write is coming into my life at exactly the right time. It’s like writing a letter to Santa and he is nodding kindly and taking notes.

I suggest you do the same. The universe is listening. Happy New Year.

I’m seven and it’s the summer between 1st and 2nd grade. I’m standing in line for my chance to try out for the swim team. The only trouble is, I don’t know how to swim. Minor detail. The only prerequisite at that moment was my desire to be on the swim team.

A giant man stands beside the pool with a whistle around his neck, telling us what to do. When our turn comes, we’re to dive into the shallow end and then swim to the far end of the long pool. He warns us not to touch the bottom at any time or grab onto the side. We have to go the distance without stopping if we want to make the team.

My turn. I step up to the ledge. “Dive” he had said. I don’t know how to dive, so I basically fling myself at the water, arms wide, belly first. When I hit, water gorges my nose and mouth. Coughing, my feet hit bottom. Dismayed, I look up at the giant man. He gives me a second chance and motions for me to keep going.

Like I said, I don’t know how to swim, so I basically flail my way to the far end while he walks along side, holding a pole in front of me should I need it. I don’t need it.

He helps me out of the pool. “Did I make the swim team?” I ask, breathlessly. He smiles, “Yes,” he said. “But first we need to teach you how to swim.” I’m thrilled. I made the team! All I need to do is learn how to swim. How hard could it be?

I never missed a practice that summer because I lived right across the street from the pool. I not only learned to swim, but was on a competitive swim team until I graduated from high school. The tenacity born on that first day served me well.

Now I’m older, but this trait of flinging myself into the unknown, with little knowledge of how to get myself out of it, hasn’t left me. I wasn’t afraid then, why should I be afraid now?

I believe it serves us well to jump into the deep end before we know how to swim. Arms held wide, heart open, flinging ourselves into situations before the outcome is known gives us the thrill of unpredictability, opens us up to surprises, and brings us life experiences we are desperately needing. It places us on the edge where we learn who we really are.

Predictability is boring. I, for one, didn’t come here to live a boring life. How about you? When the time comes, I urge you to step to the edge. Be courageous. Keep your sense of humor. And then jump. Flail yourself to the other end if you must. Perhaps spitting and coughing on the other side, you will be amazed at the person who rises out of the water triumphant. Only at that moment will you realize it was all worth it.

But first you have to jump.

At a personal development retreat, a hundred people put their name in a basket in the hope of asking a spiritual leader a question. It could be spiritual, personal, or physical – there were no limits placed on the kinds of questions one could ask. I wrote my name on a small piece of paper, but hesitated before putting it in. I was surprised to realize that I didn’t have a burning question to ask, and thought by putting my name in the pot, it would add to the odds against someone else who did.

My friend was one. She had many questions to ask and struggled to find just one should her name be called. But it wasn’t called. That evening, away from the others, we talked about her question: “When you ask for guidance, how do you know if it comes from ego or true insight?”

Good question.

I have had the opportunity many times to speak on the topic of how to recognize our inner voice – how to tap into our well of wellbeing and find guidance from our true source. You could say that it is a pet subject of mine. It’s not because I have the answer, it’s because I’m fascinated by the question.

Simply put, this is how I know the difference when it is my ego shouting to be heard or it is my true self offering a guiding hand: I ask myself these questions.

1) Does the answer serve just myself or is it for the good of the whole? Ego is selfish, having a very limited perspective, trapped inside the mind. Our inner self is not selfish and small-minded because its perspective is from a higher plane of existence – unlimited and vast. Be honest with yourself. Ego hates it when you are.

2) When I think of acting on this guidance, what emotions does it provoke? Am I terrified or elated? Overwhelmed or excited? Resigned or exuberant? Is my heart closed or open? Our emotions are true mileposts of where our actions are taking us. We should notice and listen to them more often. True insight would never ask us to do something against our better good. Ego would.

It’s important to recognize whether it is ego or true insight when we ask for guidance.

But above all, we must remember to keep asking.

If it is meant to be, it will be

At the beginning of the summer, we were invited by our Native American shaman friend to accompany her and another friend to England to stand inside the great ring of Stonehenge at dawn. We were asked to sing a song as the brilliant sun warmed the stones to a deep pink. Now I ask you, who would say no to this once-in-a-lifetime experience?

But there were obstacles to overcome. Our bank account was one. Soaring fuel prices meant soaring flight fares as well – the highest in history. Also, we were scheduled to perform on that night at a retreat outside of Denver. The two experiences had an ocean and seven time zones between them. To date, we have never canceled a gig, and we had promised we would be there in Colorado. To say we were conflicted would be an understatement.

But if it is meant to be, it will be.

The universe began to work overtime on our behalf, allowing serendipities and circumstances to shift into place. We had to shift into that place of allowing as well. No amount of excuses or sabotaging could stop what is meant to be. With the generous heart of a friend with lots of frequent flyer miles, we were thrilled to find ourselves standing on English soil four days before the event.

When the day arrived for Stonehenge, we got there at 6, long before the night gave way to the day. The stars shone pure and perfect in the night sky. The air was cool and crisp as if freshly born. The deep fog settled low into the surrounding valley, making it look like we were on the shores of the Isle of Avalon in King Arthur’s realm. Magical would be the word.

At 6:30, we were escorted by the night guard to the giant stones, standing black against the brightening sky. He left, leaving the four of us, along with two rabbits eating peacefully on the lush grass, to absorb the magnificence.

All these months of planning, dreaming, preparing and traveling funneled down to this moment. This solitary, exquisite, magical moment. I was preparing myself to be amazed.

But then I had to go to the bathroom. I was appalled when the physical tromped in on my spiritual turf, demanding attention, but my morning cup of tea was done with me. There was no fighting it. I ran with heels on fire back to the main compound. But time slowed. I got back in plenty of time because it was meant to be that I would be there.

At 7:10, the sun peeked above the horizon, a cool red with the promise of heat that hadn’t reached us yet. We brought out our instruments and sang the song that Tupelo had written especially for this moment. Our voices blended in harmony, singing to “the quiet that waits forever.” The stones absorbed the vibrations, turning a deep rose, basking in the quiet. The rabbits lingered close by so they must have liked it too.

No words can describe the clear emotions and the quiet peace of being inside the stones on that morning. Four friends came together, reuniting with their past and changing their present.

But the cosmos didn’t crack open as many friends joked would happen. We didn’t get zapped by a stroke of light from the universe. We didn’t get beamed up. The change was subtle. The shift within, soft and pure. The experience, gentle – like rabbits snuggling into the grass.

We were meant to be there on that clear morning, at that moment. Money, circumstances, or conflicting scheduling couldn’t keep us from being there. I didn’t question it. I didn’t doubt it, but I am eternally grateful for all the invisible work behind the scenes done on my behalf.

As if that experience wasn’t perfect enough, we did make our gig outside of Denver that night with ten minutes to spare. I should have been exhausted from the long road back from Stonehenge, but it felt like I had placed my hand in a light socket. I was energized and electrified.

It all worked out with perfect timing and delicate rhyme.

I’m still amazed by is all, and I was reminded once again: If it is meant to be, it will be.

I’m in Greece. I’ve just turned 20, and I’m about to have my fortune read. I didn’t go willingly. I had no interest what-so-ever of knowing my future because I was having a great time traveling the world on a backpack and a prayer, and I didn’t need some gypsy telling me where my path was taking me. I wanted to find out for myself. It’s like Christmas morning – Why would I want to know what was in my gifts and spoil the surprise?

I also innately knew that our momentum into future events can change at any moment because of free will. I was flexing my free will muscles on a daily basis. They were becoming resilient and strong.

But I have to admit, I was a tiny bit intrigued. A fortune teller in Greece … how could I pass up this experience? And like I said, I was up for surprises.

My first surprise came when we didn’t walk down a creepy path to find a secluded hut in the dark hills, but took a bus to a middle class suburb of Athens. No bead curtains. No crystal balls and candles. No scarves and long skirts, heavy make-up or enchantment. She was a housewife. A plainly-dressed, American woman living off-base with her Army husband.

We sat around her Formica table under florescent lights and drank dense Greek coffee in little cups. When we were done, the thick grounds settled to the bottom. She flipped the cups upside down on each of the saucers and then talked about the latest presidential election.

My friend, Laura, a worldly woman from California and who has seen it all at the rip old age of 22, was first. The fortune teller looked at the mass of coffee grounds in her cup and talked in generalities. I don’t remember one thing she said to her. I just remember what she said to me.

She flipped over my cup, looked inside, gasped and turned it back over. She looked to her husband for guidance, her hand over her mouth. I stood up abruptly, my chair falling behind me. I pushed my hands out to her as if to stop an ill wind from forming.

“I don’t want to know!” I said.

Laura reached up and touched my arm.

“Janey,” she said in a soft tone, “This is just bullshit.”

She knew me well. She knew how much I trusted her. I took a deep breath and sat back down.

“I see death,” the woman said softly. “And soon.”

My mind quickly scanned the faces of my family back in the States. My heart clenched. Laura put her hand on my arm again. She squeezed. I got the message, and took another deep breath to calm down. I began to chant silently, this-is-bullshit, this-is-bullshit.

“It’s major, and it’s close.” The woman acted as if her words were rebelling to come out. I didn’t want to know specifics, but she didn’t let on that she knew any. I was relieved when we finally got out of there.

I wish I could say I believed Laura and not the fortune-telling woman, but my mind replayed her words over and over. Until one day, insight hit, and I laughed in the face of death.

This fortune telling episode happened during the first year of traveling when I had escaped the conventions of being a predictable hometown girl to find my own way. I was learning everyday about myself. It was shocking and thrilling and scary. I was exploring my freedom, my emotions, my inner voice. It was a brand new world. The old me had died. This death was major and it was close.

How about that? The old gal was right after all. What a nice surprise.