Ujamaa.

Tonight I had dinner with a friend and journalist who will be joining me as a contributing writer for SKY Magazine. We talked about life, holding on and letting go.  We talked about standing at the precipice and deciding to take a leap of faith, with courage and conviction, to fly, or to retreat.

We talked about how retreating is so easy to do, if one doesn’t mind giving up one’s soul.  We talked about letting go of relationships and impulses that do not serve us.  We talked about taking a leap of faith so that we may fly.

“And when we fly, we paint the sky.” 

Pink Flamingo in a Brown Duck Pond is the story of taking flight, after more than 20 years of standing on the runway, where my job was to help companies find futures, while looking at my future, knowing that it was close enough to see in my heart, but too far to reach out and touch.  It is about standing on the precipice of my own making, the final place from which I finally jumped.

At first I thought I was pushed, and in a way I was. But once I lost my footing, I did what a living being would do.  I fought back. Learning to fly wasn’t easy. In fact, it was terrifying. At first, I clung to that precipice afraid to let go of the life that I had known for better or for worse, through good times and bad, to which I gave my time and my life in trade for money.  I clung to that ledge even though that life had run its course, and there was no going back because I had changed. But I was afraid of being embarrassed for what I perceived as weakness.  I was angry for feeling ashamed, and for the secret that I felt was mine to keep.  The secret that stole my voice, at least for a time. To me, it was like something died, because it did. My life as I thought it would be and my voice. For a time.

“On that day, I fell from the sky and began to fade to white."

Learning to fly came later. It is still coming.  I am still learning.  Learning to fly and painting the sky is about letting go, and taking chances, and having the courage to take that leap, to make room for new experiences and new opportunities. When I stepped out on my own, I decided that every day would be about doing good things so that good things happen. I decided to inspire a revolution of living in colour so that others might take a leap of faith and set themselves free.

Do good things. I say these words to myself every day.  And every day, these words inspire my life, my business and my soul.  These words inspire me to help others in their journey, and in doing so, good things happen for all of us.   Good things happened tonight.

Tonight, I welcomed a new writer to the pages of SKY Magazine, who I know will bring her beautiful and intelligent voice to the pages so that our readers may read her words and say, “me too.”

Tonight I received a message from an author who had also recently launched a book. She asked me to read it and write a review for SKY Magazine, and I was so honoured to have been asked. She offered to read and review mine for her Magazine.

Tonight I was reminded of a beautiful word that I had almost forgotten:  Ujamaa.

Ujamaa:  “It is one of the days of Kwanza and refers to cooperative economics . . . [when] we work as a community together to raise each other up, we create our success together.”

Ujamaa.