Ingredients:
Blend ingredients until smooth. I started my first blog in 2007. As a writer, blogging made sense: I hit “publish” and voila! Instant satisfaction. I could crack my knuckles and write one blog a day and feel like I was really getting somewhere. But no matter how many times I “published” I never felt satisfied, and I never really liked it.
This did not make sense to me. Blogging and I should be like ketchup and mustard, happily swirling together in a deliciously soggy pool just waiting for a hot dog to lap us up. But no matter how I twisted it, blogging was a burden, not a blessing. Maybe my approach was wrong. Maybe I needed more of a theme. I blogged about my five-year yoga-quest, which I enjoyed for the six days it lasted. But blogging about yoga felt like I was trying to be a professional yogi. Which I was not interested in. I blogged to market my book, but that felt wrong too: “Hey, look at me. I’m cool. I’m fun. I’m your friend. Now buy my book.” So that plan went into the toilet with the others. Every blog idea seemed more like the means to an end rather than the end itself, and that bothered me, especially since the end I had in mind was vague. I wanted a career I could be passionate about and make money with. Sure, novel writing was superb, but it’s not much of a money maker and it left out my two other passions: fashion and emotional healing. I’m crazy about fashion, I even earned my Bachelor’s Degree in fashion design. But the more I studied it, the emptier it rang. The fashion culture seemed more about dividing people into classes rather than making them beautiful. I love clothing for its softness and beauty. I love seeing how clothing affected people’s moods and behavior. But I wasn’t getting the education I wanted from the fashion culture and I couldn’t figure out how to harness that power myself. As for emotional healing, I began a master’s program in mental health counseling, I studied Rapid Eye Technology, chakra healing, and other voodoo magic. But all of that seemed so serious and depressing, I couldn’t keep it up. I wanted something cheerful, something fun. Something that made sense. I loved writing, I loved fashion, and I loved seeing people heal and change their lives. But nothing was making sense. Now let me skip to September 2013. I was sitting in a waiting room, reading “The Thirteenth Tale,” when my mom called. She asked if I was interested in getting the “Dressing Your Truth” course for Christmas. I knew a little about this. I had read Carol Tuttle’s book “Dressing Your Truth (discover your type of beauty)” previously and had already identified myself as a type 2. Like most labeling systems, knowing I was a type 2 didn’t affect me much. Cool, whatever, now I'll continue my life over here. When my mom called me that day in that waiting room, she sounded so excited, I didn’t want to tell her how uninterested I was. So, reluctantly, I said she could get it for me if she really wanted to. So she did. I didn’t know when, or if, I would ever check out the course. It was a bunch of online videos. But when I got the books in the mail, I picked them up, as if possessed by a supernatural force, and read every word. After that, I went online and watched the video course in a single eight-hour stretch. I spent the next two weeks processing all the “Dressing Your Truth” information. This was no simple personality test. This information changed the way I viewed myself and the world. I remembered the most beautiful times of my life and understood what made those times so perfect, those beautiful times happened when I was living my truth. Type 2’s don’t move quickly. We don’t devour life like starving pythons. We sniff and sip at life like choosy kittens. As a child, I moved slowly, wandering around looking at stuff, rather than heading quickly for my destination. “Hurry up!” was shouted at me hourly. My slow pace seemed to anger people. So I sped up to make the world happy. I became fast, ambitious, and loud. I pushed myself to be outgoing and talkative. I worked at being strong, leadership material. I learned to attack life like a python devouring a baby elephant. And what I really digested was my sense of self. Living this way exhausted me, and I struggled with crushing anxiety. After learning about the energy types in the “Dressing Your Truth” system and embracing my type 2 energy (after crying and saying I didn’t want to be a type 2), I was finally able to relax and be myself again. Expectations of the outside world be damned. I was no longer confused when I went shopping, put on make-up, or tried ignoring my hair. Dressing and living my truth was healing me. For the first time I felt free in my clothing. I was free in my life! Emotional healing and fashion had found each other at last. When I got an email from “Dressing Your Truth” saying their store was hiring, I screamed. This was the career I had been waiting for. So I applied, fully confident I would get the job. (How could they not hire me? I was perfect for them. They were perfect for me. We were MFEO.) But I didn’t get the job. And I was left again without a fulfilling career. Then one night a bolt of lightning struck my brain, and I thought about blogging again. I could blog about fashion and healing. My blog would combine all three of my passions in one beautiful place. And the most beautiful part of all, was blogging wouldn’t be about striving for an end that never came, blogging would be the end. Blogging would be healing through storytelling. And that, my friends, was how Sapphire Cat was born. I would love hearing your stories of passion. You can discuss on the forum page, in the comments below, or email me whatever inspires you on the submissions page. If it's a real dream, it's uncrushable.
-Keith Urban |