Deep in the heart of Texas we live subtle, laid back lives. A little country, mixed with loads of cattle, we enjoy rocky hills and bumpy roads. Where bar-b-que reigns and the Cowboys are the star, nobody plays like Texans. It took me awhile to get here, but 20+ years later and I made it. (Laughs loudly)

If you knew I was born and raised in Louisiana, you would also know I hated Texas. Man-o-man, I spent nearly every summer vacation between Houston, Beaumont and Port Arthur― OMG, Texas. When I graduated college, I lived in Orlando, FL. I'd moved there from Yosemite, CA. Then, I got a great job offer... in Texas... Ft. Worth, to be exact. (Gags)

Two decades later, I have finally relinquished my Louisiana driver's license. Yep, I did. I held onto it as long as I could. I was never going to become a Texan. Never. Texans are loud. Texans are proud. Texans love the Dallas Cowboys. Texans wear big shoes. Texans wear big hats. Texans... do everything big. (Literally)

So, imagine little small-town me―all 5'2" and 147lbs of myself (now, 110 then)―in the land of everything's bigger and better in... you guessed it... Texas. Now, for those of you who are like 'wait a minute; what's wrong with Texas?' the answer is nothing. At 40+, I enjoy the rolling hills and the city skyline. I feel at home in the country wilderness and take solace in the suburban downtown. From high-rises to flood zones and back again, whether the nighttime city life beckons or evening bonfires call, we have it all―in Texas. (Gasps)

When did I reach this crucial revelation, you may ask. Er'um, let's just say 'hindsight is 20/20'. You see everything in reverse. In fact, I heard Joyce Meyer once say, "life is lived forward and understood in reverse." Ahhhh, that makes so much sense. And, for those of you who are just now starting out, 'tis very true. You live and you learn, then you live some more and you laugh. That's right... you laugh at all the mistakes you've made, all the things you thought you knew that you were absolutely sure were right but turned out wrong―that outfit, that hairstyle, that girl/boyfriend―all of it. You laugh long, and you laugh hard, but typically you just laugh. (Seriously)

I don't call it midlife crisis, nor I do not compare it with mistaken identity. Nope; it's simply hysteria. It's when you reach the age when you get your panties all up in a bunch (southern slang for freak out) over nothing and it hits you like a boulder right between the eyes. Everything you thought mattered, every person you thought you could never live without (rolls eyes), you simply realize did not and accept you can. It didn't matter; they didn't matter; nothing ever really matters all that much―except living, laughing and loving. But the really cool, undiscovered secret is... shhhhhh... you. You matter. You matter to me. You matter to you. Yes, you. You matter to the world. Relish in that thought for a while. See there? Life is only good when you matter... to me... to you... to the world. (Crowd cheers loudly)

I realized just a couple of days ago that life does not suck; it simply hurts. Say it with me. "Life does not suck; it simply hurts." See? Doesn't that make you feel good? It has worked for me these past few days; life does not suck. (Sings happy, happy, joy, joy) It simply hurts. (Breathes deeply and exhales)

Now, stand up on the inside―because some of you are reading in class or at work, at the nail salon or the checkout line at Wal-Mart―and tell the world I am happy, I am healthy, I am wealthy and I am whole. Declare that life doesn't have to start for you after you've finished school or started your career, after you've met the guy or had a couple of kids, or after you've hit the lottery or received an inheritance. No! Life starts for you (and me) now. In this moment when we realize together that the greatest good we can ever offer the world is to be our true, authentic selves, all the time. (Arms raised high)

In a meeting earlier today, I was asked about the tan I didn't know I had. Seriously. I wore a short-sleeved dress and the other person asked if I rode bicycles. Ha! I haven't ridden a bicycle since I left Louisiana.

Me: "No."

Him: "What? But, your arms."

Me: "It's my birthmark."

Him: "What? You were born with a biker's tan?"

Me: "Never heard of it, but yeah. I was born with a partial tan."

Him: "How cool is that!"

Me: "Never realized it."

Okay, if I had a pic I'd show you, but I'll spare you. Imagine the back of your entire body being one color, the front of your body being a shade or two lighter and a line that actually divides the two in half all the way down both arms. Yeah, that's me. Darker from behind; a shade or so lighter from the front. It's weird, but it works. My aunt on my dad's side has the exact same birthmark, so go figure. At any rate, I never realized there was an actual term for it. I would imagine if you ride bicycles or motorbikes (practically naked), the sun might beam down on your back. I would also imagine the front of you might be better protected and not get as much exposure. Voila! Your very own "biker's tan."

For some, that whole idea might be a bit too much like real work to actually enjoy or accomplish. For others, you're wondering what the heck I'm talking about. Then, there are those who have already figured out they already have it. No matter which group you're in, the message is the same. I never realized I already have what someone else might actually consider cool or be trying to attain. (Shrugs) I never knew what it was, I didn't know it might actually be useful, and I certainly never imagined it would still be a conversation piece 40yrs later. So, maybe the next time I'm wearing a tank top I'll pick up a Harley Davidson cap for effects. But, in the meantime, ask yourself what do I already have that may just be cool enough already to better experience or enjoy summer―heck, life in general. Somewhere, someone is getting ready to enjoy that very thing, naturally. Others may be working hard to get it, but each will cross their own separate horizons and cover their own bumpy terrains, or in my case lakes and ranches. (Yahoo! for effects)

While Texas may be larger than life, it is still smaller than Alaska. However, who's really keeping count? That's right, no one. No one cares how many times you've messed up already. No one cares that you failed that class (okay, maybe your parents do), and no one cares that your boyfriend slept with your best friend (okay, maybe you should for a day or so only (trust me on that one; neither is worth it in the end). Then, get to living. Get to laughing. And get to having fun... and do it naturally. Then, do it all over again. Live life hard; don't make life hard. Life hurts enough already. Making it hard would simply make it suck, too. So not worth it. Trust me. (Waves cowboy hat)