Deportation, a Metaphor

Step One: Panic. Yep go right ahead and lose your mind.  You are in freefall.  The letter means that you are in deep.  Resist the urge to react.  Get all your crying out of the way, phone a friend. Chainsmoke.

Step Two: The illusive white knight will not save you.  If he tries, it will cost him. Bigtime.

Step Three: Gather your docs.  A decent trail of you exists in the form or marriage certs, divorce decrees, bank statements, expensive education and demanding qualifiers.

Step Three: Go to Dublin.  Be manhandled…by a bulldog.  Lawyer UP.  Be thankful.  In America they come, they take you.  No notice, no plea just barreling though your front door with the Enforcer.

Step Five: References to your character will be documented.  Jobs offered, you may even volunteer for one of them.  Lobby the people who have known you the longest and make photocopies of the lovely things they write about you, frame them.  These are keepsakes.

Step Six: Various authorities will advise you to marry.

Step Seven: Resist and relent. Be stubborn about it.

Step Eight: “You wait, you waiiiiiit.” -LD

Step Nine: Make food, eat it.  Read books and be happy you didn’t have to roast your dog over the bonfire to survive.  Or perhaps, you did!

Step Ten:  Follow your heart.  A citizen of Earth.  You live in a world all your own. Stop chainsmoking and start celebrating.  You can’t leave this island even if you tried.  Continue.  Yoga, beach it, you are on the brink.  This is where magic happens.

All of my love,


PS Take a selfie.


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