I Left My Heart In San Francisco

Right off the bat, I apologize for not being in contact for so long, but I lost my Voice. What happened was this:

In 1952 just around this time of year, my mother was reclining on the couch with my father and suddenly felt a sharp pain under her ribs (over and over again). She said to my father, “If I didn’t know better, I would swear that I’m pregnant, and the baby is kicking.”

My mother had already had multiple pregnancies (my older brother and I the only ones taken to term). Leading her to believe that when it came to pregnancy, she knew her body…intimately. So, she ignored the feeling, chalked it up to gas, continued to watch “Your Show of Shows,” eat her butter pecan ice cream, and put it out of her mind.

One month later, on Christmas day, she gave birth to my brother.

Several factors played into her not recognizing she was pregnant: 1) My mother realized, in retrospect, that she had gotten pregnant with my baby brother shortly after having me,and she had gotten pregnant with me right after giving birth to my older brother; Therefore, 2) she was still carrying a lot of previous baby weight; 3) My brother was a very tiny baby (a mere 5 pounds); and 4) Let’s face it…It was the 50’s and the medical community was not as savvy as it is today.

All the while my brother was busy growing and blossoming in my mom’s womb, she went about her business of taking care of an infant daughter and an eighteen month old son, totally unaware of her new baby boy’s growing presence.

In 2009 just about this time of year, I began feeling an inner impulse, a universal kick in the vicinity of my solar plexus (over and over again). I have given birth to several creative projects in my life. I have multiple master’s degrees. I have acted in film, on television, and on stage. I experienced pregnancy at the age of 41 and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Leading me to believe that when it came to creativity, I knew my inner process…intimately. So I ignored the feeling, chalked it up to gas, continued to focus on creating projects outside of myself, and put it out of my mind.

One month later, two days before Christmas, I gave birth to www.theyearoftheboy.blogspot.com and my first blogpost.

Several factors played into me not recognizing I was pregnant with new possibility: 1) I realized, in retrospect, that I had indeed been asking for a stronger connection with my real Voice; However, 2) being that I am an actor, I thought that the Voice I was asking to be connected to was my speaking Voice (a written Voice was no where in my awareness); 3) My first blog was very tiny (a mere 5 lines), and 4) let’s face it…I was in my late-ish 50’s and not as savvy as I am today.

All the while my Voice was busy growing and blossoming in my co-creative and uniquely universal womb, I went about my business of taking care of my infant transforming consciousness and an eighteen year old son, totally unaware of my new Voice’s growing presence.

However, once I was startled into the birth of that first blogpost, I joyfully birthed many more. I was (and still am) in love with the posts that emerged from me. Each post’s desire to teach me and to (hopefully) help others as we travel our paths to Evolving Selves literally transported me to blissful heights within myself that I had never experienced before.

Like a mother bathed in the miracle of her newborn baby, I fell in love with each and every blogpost Offspring I birthed (all 90 + of them!).

Then, like a negligent mother, I left Them all in San Francisco.

On November 12th, I caught a flight north to a “Writing for Change” Conference in the City of the Golden Gate. The conference was meant for writers who have something to contribute to the evolution of the universe and the agents, editors, and publishers who love them. Naturally I went to the conference with my Beloved Offspring, excited about the opportunity to show them off and bask in the glow of others recognizing their radiance.

One editor told me my writing was (yes, I am quoting here because editors love that!) “Hilarious but neurotic and adolescent.” He wanted to know who the character was that was writing the posts. He helpfully suggested I think about taking on a 14 year old persona of Charlie Brown’s long lost love, the curly red-haired girl, Margaret.

WHAT??!!

I departed the conference dazed and confused and, in packing, left my Beloved Offspring at the Hilton in Chinatown.

And, honest to God, it is at this very moment of telling you my story that I realize why his comments about my Voiced Beloved Offspring threw me into such a tizzy that I forgot to bring them home. The way his comments landed in my body has been difficult to process and release, but I am grateful to him for his point of view.

Because if he had not said that to me, I never would have embodied the sweet vulnerability I feel and the love I have for this process of evolving. My stories are communicated via my universally unique, and perhaps, adolescent and neurotic Voice, yes,

But they are birthed through my Heart…

No wonder I feel so empty…

I left my Heart in San Francisco.

Sorry, but right now I need to leave.

I have a north-bound flight to catch.