Last spring I attended a workshop in Boston offered by Hay House Publishing Company geared towards  folks in the community who want to promote their transformational work in the world. I wasn’t exactly certain what to expect nor was I particularly clear about what it was I was looking for, but a dear friend went to a previous offering and had nothing but rave reviews. And he is awesome.

One of the things author and life coach, Cheryl Richardson, presented was the necessity for contemporary  teachers to develop a personal “platform” that draws upon numerous social and technological avenues in order to effectively promote one’s core message. Core message, right? I negotiated mini panic attacks for the first 24 hours of the week-end as I grappled with the fear of truly spelling out to myself, let alone to others, what indeed was my message, my purpose, my passion.

“I want to change the world.” Well, easy enough, right? Who doesn’t want to change the world? I’d proudly sit with that clarity for about five minutes before the onslaught of “yeah, but’s” came pouring in and sent me reeling into confusion and self-doubt. “Who am I to say there is a problem with the world as it was created and exists?” “Who am I to suggest that I know what the world needs and that I have the ability to affect that change?”

“OK, I know! Relationships! I want to help folks enjoy more meaningful, transformational relationships!!!” Now what could be bad about that? I’ll be “the relationship guy!” I smiled silently from my chair as the workshop proceeded, content that I had already gained something useful and I had done it all by myself! Sure enough, an hour later a flood of scenes from previous relationships came crashing in, carrying the debris of mistakes, lessons and tragedies committed by yours truly in attempt after attempt to maintain “successful” romantic connections.

I felt like Charlie Brown trying to kick the elusive football. I’d charge the ball with gusto only to wind up flat on my back,  cartoon birdies circling overhead. How could I ever really know what I want to do or say with my talents if I can so easily find a hundred reasons why I have been so clueless about this or that, even a miserable failure at something I wish to teach others about.

“Who would want to hear about creating a healthy relationship from someone who has had unhealthy ones in his own past?”

I began to research platform development in the weeks and months following the workshop and found myself reading marketing books, opening numerous social networking accounts, watching Ted.com videos from speaker/teacher masters and creating a public presence. One of the themes that I found particularly striking across the board was the necessity of branding.

The notion that every public person needs to brand themselves as if they are a product to be sold in the marketplace was instantly jarring. Really? At first it was a bit funny to imagine myself as a tube of toothpaste or a new Smart Phone. “What makes me unique from other dental products or telecom mediums?” My toothpaste is all natural, smooth yet gritty, tasty and delicious but not too sweet?!? Not good enough! My toothpaste supports you by keeping a loving, compassionate breeze of sweet cleanliness on your breath all day! My cell phone not only makes calls and take photos of your life, it provides you with an alternative universe, a special community of like-minded people where you can feel at home and nurture your relationships!

No matter what product I could be “selling,” it is difficult to remove the essence of who I am and what I’m truly seeking to create in the world. I don’t want to sell anything, actually. I want to make changes in the world available for others to embrace. I can only share my opinions or beliefs about that change and then people can choose for themselves whether those ideas resonate or not. I do truly believe that healthy, nurturing relationships are the key to deep, lasting peace and self-love. I believe that with healthy relationships come healthy homes, cities and nations thus creating a healthy planet. Do I want to sell that to you? Not exactly.

My deep hope is that you will come to want it for yourself. There is a challenge within myself when it comes to trying to convince anyone of anything. I present ideas and possibilities and that is where I leave it. I know from decades of experience that I can not change another person but I can invite them to change. I don’t want to have to market myself in a way that makes change sexier or smarter, I want the reality of it to stand on its own. Then again, what if it doesn’t?

What if I sing from the mountain tops that projecting our needs onto others is the same as wanting to lock our friends and family in cages and invite visitors to come see what lovely relationships I have created? What if I dance a healthy relationship dance in my own life in the hope that those around me will see the beauty and benefit of nourishing their connections?

What if I do these things and nobody gets it? What if I sing my heart out and no one cares?

Back to branding. Can I make the message sexier without losing the authenticity of my beliefs and dreams? Can I assemble my words in a wittier way such that people think I must know what I’m talking about and then change? How is it possible to package myself and my message without attention to branding and marketing and not lose focus on the heart and soul of my personal journey?

I turn to the sun dried plum for wisdom.

What, you’ve not yet discovered this exotic fruit in your grocery store? The Angelino sun dried plum is naturally sun-dried, ready to use and will knock your socks off! It comes “fancy” sized, is approximately 2˝ in diameter with a deep violet color. California Angelino Plums have a tangy sweet flavor with spicy undertones and a chewy texture making them a good choice for snacking and as an ingredient for baking in breads, scones and bagels. Plums have a natural affinity to wines and dried plums are high in vitamin A, potassium and are an excellent source of fiber. They are even Kosher Certified.

What could be bad about such an exotic fruit? Nothing. Just explain it to the prune. They are calling it a “marketing make-over,” a “sea-change in the fruit world” and a “fruit of the past. ” The good old prune that my grandmother ( and yours ) used to chew on to keep things “right in the world” has been transformed into something exotic, fresh and fun. While it is still carries the amazing nutritional benefits of a good prune, the sun dried plum is about your transformation! What?

You didn’t like going to the store and buying prunes. It wasn’t sexy. Perhaps, it was embarrassing. You didn’t serve it at holidays or with mixed company. Your kids giggled at it in the cupboard so you stopped bringing it home. You changed. You wanted the benefits of the prune but you were no longer willing to tolerate the “bad wrap” associated with the prune. So, the powers that be made an adjustment for you as they have done with the Patagonian Toothfish, Sugar, and High Fructose Corn Syrup. They just want you to be comfortable. Corporations, governments and marketers can label things all sorts of ways to ensure that you feel at ease and that your numerous instinctual triggers don’t go off and compromise a sale, a change in your behavior.

Brother Shakespeare questioned whether a rose would smell as sweet by any other name? My message is the same, regardless of fancy platforms, marketing or savvy sales pitches. We can change the world, starting with our most basic relationships. Each day we have choices as to how we will be in the world; how we will interact with others. There is something so basic and true to this that no matter how I package it, the reality is always clear and present.

In the end, I guess I am really like the prune.

Well, today’s my birthday. 40. Wow.

I suppose as a kid I figured 40 would mean something. It seemed so old, so up there…

And yet, here I am. And well, it doesn’t mean much. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE my birthday. Each year, I love to celebrate myself, my birth, my annual rebirth and the recognition of another cycle that has passed. However, the numbers? Well, they feel rather arbitrary. I only tend to compare myself to people in terms of their age when I am feeling bad about myself for something. Something akin to the notion that perhaps I have not lived up to my potential thus far.

Jesus accomplished so much before he was 34. In fact, he accomplished so much that people wanted him dead for all that he had done in 33 years. That’s impressive, no?

John Lennon died when he was 40 and he was a Beatle, for God’s sake. He was John Lennon, man. Imagine that. He was gunned down just a few blocks from Strawberry Fields Forever.

Martin Luther King Jr. died at 39. He had dreams just like me, but somehow he was able to mobilize a generation and well, yeah, um, they killed him for that.

Each of these role models changed the world, lived revolutionary lives and catalyzed paradigm shifts on the planet, all before they were 40 and they all wound up dead.

Now that I’m here, I suppose the idea that “I have plenty of time” seems a bit foolish. On the other hand, staring at the long list of my personal heroes leads me to wonder whether it is so surprising that I’ve been slightly resistant to changing the world. Everybody ends up dead. Seems like in order to make a profound difference on the planet, the price to be paid is often one’s life. Hmm.

Maybe I can still get something important accomplished and just squeeze under the radar, body, mind and spirit intact. Perhaps that is a worthy goal in and of itself: Develop a new paradigm where changing the world leads to respect and positivity without the desire to snuff out the messenger. I’m on it.

We are hungry, all of us.

Feed me, please. I’m in need of your… touch.

The physical experience of intention activating your body to interact with mine is something most of us never get tired of. We can feel anxious, uncomfortable, scared even- but beneath the defense mechanisms, we want it. Touch me, hold me, just graze your hand on my shoulder, but touch me.

I’m not the same without it and I’m not the same with it. Physical contact transforms me. It illuminates the dark places within my being; the shadowy, whispy caverns that get accustomed to perma-dusk. When I am open to receive the magic embedded in your touch I can feel the cells deep inside leap towards each other, dancing in the sprinkler like kids on a hot summer day. Life is beautiful when it is tactile.

I experimented with Orthodoxy once upon a time. For a year I mindfully moved through the world abstaining from physical contact with members of the opposite sex and it was profound- profoundly troubling. While it was wonderful to expand my willingness to give and receive physical contact with men, the absence of the soft, energetic graze of a woman was intensely present. The power of a good shoulder squeeze and the firmness of a huggable greeting was wonderful from the men I lived and learned with on a daily basis, but the loss of female contact while manageable, became something I decided was not something I’d ever want to live without. Never again.

She was a cute, Macrobiotic, Orthodox woman and it seemed the whole physical touch interdiction thing was getting under her skin as well. A few weeks of sharing smiles, giggles and Tamari roasted pumpkin seeds and it was on. As the sun headed down behind the olive trees, she guided me up the back stairs of an old Armenian spice shop to the roof. We stood and held each other for half an hour as the pink and gray of dusk wove a tapestry of touch into our lives once again. No kisses, No groping. No need. It was sublime and we soaked it up until we were good and done.

I never again voluntarily abstained from touch. There have of course been some “dry spells” here and there but it is something I’m acutely tuned in to as a need that can not ever be satiated. An itch that I will scratch until the cows come home.

I was speaking to someone at the airport this morning about the new, more “invasive”  TSA pat down security screenings at U.S. airports and her response struck me: “I think it is ridiculous that so many people are upset about it. It’s free touch! Who cares who’s touching me? Who can’t use a little feel on a stressful day of connecting flights?” Makes a person think twice before jumping to speed dial an attorney over the governmental grope.

When I was a boy growing up in NY, Channel 5 began to show exceptionally “B” movies at 3pm every Saturday afternoon. Sometimes they were Vincent Price offering a sinister grin or a dark side of humanity, but most of the time these films were poorly dubbed Kung Fu movies, Godzilla and monster films.

I lived for Drive-in movies. These films were oftentimes shown in black and white or really badly colorized, and it was the only time my colorfully spoiled contemporary palette could handle black and white images. Each Saturday afternoon, my brother and I would sit two feet in front of the Sony Trinitron and watch as the beseiged Chinaman of the week learned Crane Technique from the old robed master so as to fend off the band of evil this or that’s. The blood surged through our veins as our hero of the week trained and trained, sailing through the trees, punching wood posts, and carrying buckets of water on his head.

And then it happened. Commercial break. Some sort of primitive testosterone infusion overcame us as soon as Crazy Eddy came on to sell his insanely priced electronics. Instantly on our feet, two brothers morphed into Chinese martial arts experts and began to replay the television show in real life. We gurgled our voices into high pitched shrieks, curled our fingers into animal poses and lifted our legs to the air. The blood pulsed through my wiry arms and legs as I kicked and punched and cut the air with my snarled eyes and unforgiving Chinese-dubbed English.

Four years the elder, I took full advantage of my greater strength and agility much to my brothers’ disappointment. In the four minutes of commercials, I managed to make my brother cry about 34% of the time. I’m sorry about that. But I couldn’t help myself. I was so moved by the spirit of the moment and of thousands of years of my people soaring through the air, fighting off enemies and practicing an ancient craft.

OK, not my people, but on Saturday afternoons, I felt the kinship. I was Chinese. I was the underdog. I was the guy who was weak and defenseless who somehow learned to find that inner thread of brilliance and power. I was unstoppable.

Until the shouts came from downstairs to cease and desist violent behavior or else.

Imagination is a powerful force. As kids, we built cities out of legos, fought battles with action figures and space ships and drew pictures of far away places and homes we would occupy one day. So easy, so natural, so simple. And now? What stops us from creating our fantasy worlds and dream lives? How else do we manifest what we truly want to have and who we want to be?

Imagine yourself soaring through the trees, overwhelming obstacles and mastering ancient wisdom. It’s time to create your own Drive-in Movie.

What is it about our desire to control another that creates monsters both in ourselves and in the people we attempt to harness with our own wishes, directions and demands?

The fear in me that you will do or say something contrary to what I believe is in my best interest or even threatens my way of life is a real problem. It sits in the back of my mind and festers there; I think about it often. What if your way, hurts my way? This fear can easily transition to anxiety and eventually, become panic. The result? Slavery, murder, war, incest, rape, adultery, terrorism and a host of other distorted manifestations of my initial fear.

The concern that an extremist feels that her beliefs or way of life is somehow threatened by my beliefs or way of life can go any of two ways.

1: “Can we talk about something that has been bothering me? I feel a bit triggered by something you are saying or doing…”

2: “Your way of being in the world feels so threatening to me right now that the only way I can cope is to eradicate the thought or lifestyle choice from my world. I will now attempt to control the behavior in you I do not like. If that fails, prepare to die.”

Option 1 typically leads to a dialogue about what I did that created fear or anxiety for you and because I’m not a bad person, I agree to look at what I’m doing to see if there is anything in my behavior that is intentional or malicious and agree to shift those actions if I find I’m not acting from my best self. On the other hand, I may check myself and feel I am acting in full alignment with who I am and opt to just acknowledge that you’re having a hard time and hold space for you to be where you are, in your fear, supporting you to the best of my ability while not altering my behavior.

Option 2 typically leads to removing ones shoes at the airport. I have triggered you in some way but what I hear from you is that if I don’t alter my behavior, that you will force me to change. The fear that you will try to change me creates anxiety for me that has the potential to lead to panic. The fear that you will attempt to hurt me in order to eradicate my way of being in the world typically leads to extreme panic, perhaps even terror. The result? I attempt to control myself, control you, and control the environment so as to gain a sense of safety and security. How do I do this? Extreme measures. Lockdown.

If I am feeling out of control because someone I do not know has made a formal declaration that my way of being must be eradicated, I feel scared and angry. I want to be safe but now I’m also confused and angry that you have made me and my way of being bad or wrong. I feel defensive. I feel like getting you back for making me feel bad. I want to control you to make you understand that you can’t control me. That might feel better for me, perhaps. Maybe I’ll feel more in control;  safer.

I take measures to demand, insist, require, enforce, train, re-educate, enlist, deploy, regiment, segment, quarantine, counteract…

Ahh. I feel safe again. I have you where I want you. Now, what was it that you wanted to talk about?

As you embark on another season of holiday travel I invite you to consider this an opportunity to observe the phenomenon of control in your life. How do I deal with control? How do I deal with other people’s needs to control me?

We have two options in life when faced with a stimulus: We can React and do what we are wired/conditioned to do, or, we can Respond and do what we choose to do based on an inner process between heart and mind. I respond when I consider what my true purpose is and what my desired outcome truly is.

So, as you choose between a full cavity search, groinal pat down or panoramic X-Ray, consider that we always have a choice as to how we will respond to a particular threat, idea or attempt to control. The choice really begins at the beginning of the cycle, however.

I feel fear. How do I want to respond?