An excerpt from the upcoming book, The Lady Players Manual: How to Win at Love and Life.
High in the Air.
Not the start of a race, in all its wavering anticipation over whose feet are the most swift and sure to step and stretch over the line that has been drawn. The warning shot is that line that says cross me if you dare, because right here is where it snaps.
This moment, this sound splitting silence in two, is the exclamation point at the end of a very long and drawn out, rambling sentence called life and the last stair tumbled down. It is when sense is regained and eyes are no longer clouded by sentimentality and maybe. It is the exact moment when all things get real and unmistakably clear. It is the precise instant when what you say or do after, is your put up or shut up moment in the spotlight where you must not freeze or falter.
When that warning shot is let loose to scream into the heavens, you make damn sure your walking boots are on, you got a full tank and money for the tolls, because there is no going back if you think you forgot something like courage on the table at home.
The warning shot says, I have all that I need and if I find I have left something, I will deal with that if and when I need to. This warning shot has nothing to do with a gun but everything to do with the strength of your mind.
The warning shot is the defining moment that separates the ones who must be comfortable to survive and the ones who waltz through fire like a phoenix, into a tomorrow unlike any today that has ever existed.