Welp, fans, yesterday around 6pm PCT, I was handed a certificate stating that I'd completed 150 hours of massage therapist training.

It. Has. Begun.

This may very well be one of the most important changes I have instituted in my life. For me to follow through on ANYTHING, including "I should really pick up cat food....nah, I'll do it in the morning. They can eat flour", is miraculous, but this feels so vital to me. On April 27th, I steered my shoes to point towards a new path, a misty, darkened road, and I am now down that road, the fog surrounding me, but I remain assured and unafraid.

I'm also coming to realize an evolution inside of me, a wondrous deepening of honesty with myself. I've always felt sure that I knew me, that I was true to myself, but now I can see how much I was missing out on. It's beginning to feel whole. I'm a fucking wreck, in a beautifully innocent way. I cry at the drop of a hat. My laughter resonates like thunder throughout every limb. Emotions are reaching down inside of me to places where I reserved space for....I don't know what. But now those feelings are like pitchers of ruby wine, pouring into the constructed gaps. Mmmmmmmm, wine....

I know I'm waxing rhapsodic here, but pouring my guts out is becoming a specialty of mine. I have to express these feelings. I've bottled myself up pretty damned well for too long. So many people will say, "But Russ, you've always been emotional and seemed to always have a grip on yourself." Well, that's the problem: The grip. I'm learning to let go, at least a little, and guide myself instead of yanking and tugging at the chain.