I have a birthday coming up--my 34th. If I make it to this one, not that I'm planning not to (but one never can assume), I will have survived my martyr year.

Martyr year? They say that Jesus was 33 when he was crucified. An interesting question that begs: Have I sacrificed anything to give life to something else?

Now I don't really endorse martyrdom. And, I really do not believe the explanation that Jesus died so that we "sinners" could live; I don't believe in a God who demands such an exchange. But, going with the metaphor--because so many of my friends said last year at this time, "oooooh! your 'Jesus' year!" (or, was it just the voices in my head???)--did I sacrifice anything? Kill any part of myself off so that good could flourish?

Ahhh, the death of my independent little massage business in Ballard. I was sooo proud of it, loved that I had a business with a quirky identity that people noticed and patronized largely because of its very unique style--and because of my fabulous massage of course! I killed this little gem and opened up a home practice to create time and space and resources to develop a new career path. It was snuffed on the last day of last September. I know I made the right decision for the purpose of moving forward. It's just been a hell of a year since then--depression! Only now do I feel as though I've rolled the rock from the tomb.

In the works: new house (same residence, new floor plan), new career (real estate), finally conquering the freeway driving phobia (have started hypnotherapy), opening myself up to the reality of a child in the near future (start "trying" in the spring/summer), further development and deepening of the spiritual Self.