The Down & Out of Destiny

I think Destiny has the same consequence on a person's life as jumping into a pool or body of unknown water.

You race towards the edge, take in a deep breath, and cannonball yourself full-fledged into the unknown hoping that the ritual of baptism (and the sheer act of taking the plunge) will manifest your Destiny into fruition.

Sounds easy enough, doesn't it?  Fling ourselves into something greater than our understanding in the hopes of emerging and becoming more of who we're supposed to be.

But - what if the act of plunging yourself and emerging isn't all there is to it?  What if the act of plunging yourself in (and the consequence of sinking, losing your breath, and being so deep under water that you are unsure if you will ever surface again) must correspond to the ripple created by that plunge?

What if, in order for Destiny to truly manifest; the ripple from the plunge must be so great that it causes a shift in the waters?  A ripple so grandiose, so magnificent and majestic that an undertow occurs sucking you into a place you never dreamed you'd emerge from?

The emergence from the plunge doesn't guarantee that you will end up where you thought you might be when you jumped -- but it does guarantee that you will have propelled yourself out of the stagnancy that came with staring into oblivion from the water's edge.

The jump guarantees that Destiny will find you -- even if you have to swallow mouthfuls of water and go unconscious in the meantime.

So jump.  Jump now.  And jump hard.

The other side, no matter what it is, will have more wonders than you could have ever dare hoped, thought, or dreamed -- and the simple action of forward movement and disarray of fears is the velocity needed to entice your true Destiny.

Destiny can only occur when fears are washed away by the very act of drowning them; which then creates a ripple; which creates an undertow; which creates a new beginning when you do eventually resurface.

And new beginnings are awesome.

I hope the Dalai Lama is right

It's official.

I've decided.

In my next life I am coming back as a Japanese Pop Star.  I've always had an affinity for pink plastic clothing and oversized boots.  My Jet-black hair kept in tact by my straight perm, perfectly framing my gorgeous deep brown eyes.

I would dine on endless supplies of edamame whilst sucking back the good sake.

Life would be amazing.

When I wasn't hosting this popular game show or guest spotting on that popular talk show; I would spend my afternoons gazing at Koi ponds whilst catching some shade under a tree.  An ancient Cherry Tree, now bloomed; its pink delicate flowers cascading romantically all around me whilst I signed autographs for my legions of fans. 

And my name would be K-Chan or something kutesy like that. 

Karoke bars would let me bypass their lines to have me headline this hit or that classic that the  my people never grow tired of.

Each night I would lay my perfectly koifed head on my Scarlett Johansson pillowcase all safely nestled in the warmth of my traditional tatami bedroom surrounded by Hello Kitties of various shapes and sizes.  At night (and every night) I would dream the exact same day I had experienced and re-live it all over once again because, naturally, the next day could not possible be any better.

My Engurish would be amazing and I would be the spokesmodel for all the GEO English schools throughout Asia, with the obvious exception of North Korea.

On warm summer nights I would walk down the street, hips swaying to and fro as I distribute my weight and navigate in my platforms towards my handsome Japanese boyfriend/Mild Seven Cigarette Model as he waits by his black Ferrari or Nissan. 

We giggle, him loud with his head back as he flips his perfect hair and buts out his cigarette, I meekly and sheepishly behind my right hand. A moment later we drive off in his car whilst the various highways guide us through the caverns of skyscrapers that serenade our love with blinking lights.

THAT. WOULD. BE. THE. LIFE.