The 50th Episode

THE BIG FIVE OHHHH… & feels like I’ve been married to this show for 50 years… No, really I have no idea what commuting to something for that long would look like, I mean heck I’ve been doing this show for longer than most of my relationships! 50 WEEKS, 50 harrowing weeks of radical honesty, of sex positivity, of openness, and presence. 50 weeks of TMI, 50 weeks of my love life, my career, my triumphs, and tribulations. 50 weeks of music. 50 hours of this show done. 50 weeks of tears and laughter. 50 weeks of my personal life laid out on display for all to hear. And most importantly 50 weeks of learning, growing and changing.

Excerpt:

“Where to even begin.

Here I sit with you doing the 50th episode of this show. Now I didn’t think I would live to see 27 years old, let alone been able to sustain something every week that I was accountable to for this long. THE BIG FIVE OOOHHH: and it feels like I’ve been married to this show for 50 years. No, really I have no idea what commuting to something for that long would look like, I mean heck I’ve been doing this show for longer than most of my relationships! Wow! That’s some perspective. 50 weeks, 50 harrowing weeks of radical honesty, of sex positivity, of openness, and presence. 50 weeks of TMI, 50 weeks of my love life, my career, my triumphs, and tribulations. 50 weeks of music. 50 hours of this show done. 50 weeks of tears and lighter. 50 weeks of my personal life laid out on display for all to hear. And most importantly 50 weeks of learning, growing, and changing. I have now don’t this show almost every week for over a year. And I will confess to you, that I set this number as my stop date. The end of this show, but folks, why would I stop doing something that has become my mile marker, my checkpoint, my mirror. Why would I stop doing something that challenges people to think more openly, more closely about their relationships to themselves, their lives, and passions? So, as they say. The show must go on. And it will. Because I’ll never stop searching, never stop changing, never stop learning. And this has become, not only an outlet for my creative and rich internal world, but a sacred space of connection in s disconnected world. It has shown me, time and time again that we are all connected. Deeply, brutally and beautifully. And that my healing, my love, and suffering serve a purpose. That everything I have been through in my life is useful. Because I have made it so. And I am blown away, over and over again, by the sheer power of our personal truth. Of art and beauty, of creating something out of nothing.

And this week I worked tirelessly, in the kitchens of strangers, to turn raw materials into delicious food. To create an experience, to provide a portal, into my heart and soul. Good food. And I spent over 50 hours on my feet, nonstop, and I’m exhausted but triumphant. But it was, just that, creation out of nothing. And my hands, the vessels for everything I do. The extensions of my love, my caring, my compassion, my reiki are cut and scarred and burned and bruised. And yet they remain connected. They tie me to my power, they are the swirling epicenter. And I remembered, how potent these things are, my voice, my hands. They are the vehicles through which I touch the world. Through which I create connection, meaning, purpose. After my master reiki practitioner training, last weekend my mother said to me that one of the other teachers observing the initiation process said that when we all sat down, put our hands together, and closed our eyes that she saw something that was highly unusual for her. She saw energy, moving around my hands, intertwining around them, in an orb of light. My hands are the outlet, the brilliant makers of my mind, the way I transfer energy to my clients, the way I knit a sweater, the way I dance with a salsa verde, or a knife. The way I touch a lover’s skin. Every ounce of my attention placed there. My hands are love. Are my everything. But this show has given me another vehicle, my voice, one that for so many years was stifled, silent, afraid of everything and anything. Maybe because I always knew that words had the power to change the world. And I could never find the right ones. So I held my tongue, for so long, observing, watching, wondering, when it would all be useful. And here I am, still, every week, screaming into the void, telling another story, one where I put all the pieces back together. Over and over again. This show has thought me that life goes on. No matter how difficult, no matter how scarring, life keeps going, we keep moving.

And it has held me accountable, to myself, to my words and questions. It has cajoled me to stay present, to not take anything too seriously, to laugh and cry, to bring irreverence and reverence to the process of healing.

So because this is the 50th episode, after all, let’s go back to the very beginning. Where it all began, in these four walls, with a girl with a broken heart, and a head full of hopes and dreams that would never come true. It started with heartbreak, with loving you is lonely, it started with a love I never could let go of. It started with voice shaking, hands shaking, it started with the truth, it started with hope caught in my throat and love in my eyes. I started this show like a quest, eager to find out where I had gone wrong, hoping that I’m sharing my struggle I would find I was, in fact, not alone. And week after week, I learned more about myself, I heard myself say CRAZY things, and beautiful things and silly things. And I went about putting the pieces of my heart back together. I started this show with this line, and quote “you can think, this will be disappointing, and go for it anyways!” And if that’s not the story of my life well I don’t know what is… and folks, you know what, that story changed a long time ago. My love life is really anything but disappointing. It’s fascinating and terrifying and beautiful and surreal and downright dirty at times. Ohh, don’t pretend you haven’t heard all about it. But that’s just it, I set out to write myself a new story. One that ended in hope, instead of disappointment. One where I let go, of everything that wasn’t serving me in favor of a brighter future. And folks, let’s be real, I’m still a dumpster fire of a human being. But now at least it’s my dumpster fire, and I’m well on my way towards a life full of purpose and meaning. And my house is clean, and my jobs are wonderful, and my friendships are deep and thoughtful and funny and connected. And I have, in fact, built a better life for myself.

But more on that in a little bit. Tonight we’re going to be going over the greatest hits (well my version) of the songs that made this show. And now this is entirely subjective and completely under my control, so imma choose alright. Well, I guess it goes without saying that I might as well start with the song that began this show in the first place, here’s loving you is lonely by harmony Byrne. Followed by Halah, by Mazzy Star. Because well that’s unrequited love for you, in a nutshell, and also, two songs burned into my soul for all eternity. How’s that for dramatic. At least I haven’t lost my edge completely, yet.

“This week I have been reflecting, on this last year of my life, in perpetuation for this show. And I have to say. It’s been ridiculous! I cannot believe I did a whole off-air episode where I swore and talked about my sex life, I cannot believe some of the things I have said about love and pleasure for the world to hear, I cannot believe I even started this show in the first place. I mean 2 years ago, my actual FEAR, I mean like bone-chilling fear of people was unbearable. If you had told me 2 years ago, that this is what my life would look like I would have thought you were an absolute LOON. I mean had you told me, that I would have healed my Lyme, and chelated all the led out of my body, gotten healthy, gotten sober, run towards heartbreak, put my private life on public display, had multiple partners, wild and beautiful experiences, developed deep and fulfilling friendships and gotten 3 certifications and decided to go back to school to become a sexologist I would have laughed in your face. My world, my little world of fear and pain was so small. Was so suffocating. I cannot even begin to explain it. And I was a broken shell of a human being, crushed under the weight of love lost, crushed under the weight of expectations, and suffering, and another person’s disease and pain. I was isolated and constantly afraid. And now, we’ll now it’s not like I’ve won the lottery or anything. My room is literally 7 by 9ft. I measured, I know I’m a crazy person still. That never changed. And I’ve done nothing except show up, with all my presence, all my love, all my clarity, week after week and walked one foot after the other in the direction of wholeness. And I’ve changed. Because that is what accountability does. It changes us. It heals us. That is what truth does, what honesty does. It brings us home. Time and time again. Every time we begin to falter. And a lot of the time, I wonder if anyone even listens to this show, or if it really is just me preaching sex positivity at the deep and fathomless void, or reciting poetry to thin air.

But so what if it is.

It’s changed me.

I am a better person than I was a year ago. I am more compassionate, more optimistic, more essentially me. Because if you remember, the truth will set you free.

So speaking my truth, to no one in particular every week, has been a wild and epic adventure. One that feels as though it cannot be measured or quantified except for this.

I am this whole person.

For the first time in my life.

I’m home.

In one of my first episodes, I said I was creating a roadmap through suffering so that other people wouldn’t feel like they had to go through it alone. Or just plain wouldn’t have to make the mistakes I had made. But you know what, every so-called mistake, in what I used to call my so-called love life (you know, when there wasn’t much of one to talk about at all) has been a blessing in disguise. Because they brought me here. To you. To myself. To this strange container. To the airwaves. And I don’t know if I ever talked about this, but my father was a radio show host. He now does audiobook sound design. But when I was a little girl, I used to go into the studio and he would play live vinyl, and I’d sit there quietly in the sound booth until he would swing the mic over to me, and I’d be like, and that was the cure with Friday I’m in love. I must have been like 7 or 8. Which puts me in a very strange and rare category. I am a second-generation programmer, I even decided to program here, on the very station that aired The Scratchy Record Show, when I was a child. But there’s a catch here, for all my young life, and well into my teens, I hated the sound of my own voice. It’s not uncommon, but it was fueled by the bullies I contended with when I was young, my head always still ringing with their words meant to tear me down. And so I learned to be quiet, be good, not have an opinion, not make a mess, keep it to myself. Until, one beautiful day, I had nothing left to lose. And I just didn’t care anymore, what everyone and anyone thought of me. And it set me free. And the amount of wonderful feedback, I mean someone a couple of weeks ago was like, “I actually just can’t listen to your show, your voice is too sexy.” And I was like “I give you my express permission” and they were like, “Nope still can’t do it, it’s too much!” I mean not that I want people to not be able to listen to my show, but it was hilarious and sweet. Never in my wildest dreams, did I think that my voice, my heart, my mind, would become something people looked forward to hearing. To me, that was an impossible world.

I mean, and on this episode of Olivia’s radio show gets her laid. Just kidding, but not really because some of the beautiful connections and lovers I’ve made in the last year were because of this show. One because I asked them to write a poem about love for me to read, the other because I told them about the show when we met and they went and listened to it and still asked me out, and finally the one that’s coming here, on FRIDAY. Ohh my god that’s so soon. Jesus. I am not prepared. Who asked me about how I recorded this show, and then came to a workshop I was doing and the rest is history. Never did I think I would find ANYONE who was ok with having their personal life spilled out on the airwaves for the world to hear, or the details of our love life, and yet, how wrong I was. Time and time again. Because this show is me. And they loved me.

And I often joke with people, that anyone who’s been following this show since the beginning knows more about me than some of my closest friends and confidants. Because a lot of them don’t listen to it, but they get the abridged version of my life. You all get the whole gory picture and a very uncensored version of everything I think about it. And it is intimate. To have a stranger know more about your life than some of your friends. But it is also breaking down the lines, between healer and healing, between right and wrong, between love and pain. It is a resounding chorus of remembrance: we are all one.

And something I get often is, well it’s sexual, and explicit sometimes, and oh so intimate, and honest. Aren’t you afraid, that someone’s gonna hear it and come after you? Or stalk you, or I don’t know. And I have never been. Because ultimately this show is about love. Is about hope, is about healing. This show should remind you that you are not alone, that you do not have to suffer silently, that everything is happening for a reason. If you have listened to even one episode of this show, you should know that pleasure is our birthright, and consent is the sexiest thing, and healing isn’t linear, and you have to feel it to heal it, and context is the big clarifier, and your heart is the epicenter of everything. And, of course, that all roads lead back to love.

Why, why would I let fear get in the way?

Have you ever stalked someone that then sat you down and asked you about why you are hurting? I don’t think so. That’s my point here. Healing is for everyone. Pleasure is for everyone. Hope is for everyone.

This is a singular story. This is a universal story.

Because you, my dear, are the universe experiencing itself. And is am I.”