Budge: (v) to move slightly
I am an oxymoron.
For I will tell you of a certainty, I am a domesticated gypsy.
Or a gypsy, domesticated.
But intermingled was a series of travels to share my art and heart with hundreds of thousands of people across the United States of America.
It was a precariously divine mission, one which I had to spark up in my soul daily, to guarantee enough pistons in the engine to propel me forward.
So I was often amused when I finished my show, which included music, humor and dialogue, and the sponsor nervously came to my side, twitching and relieved, and said, “It sure seems like everybody enjoyed it.”
I do think this individual usually believed if he or she had shared some problem or preference that the audience expressed, that I would leap at the opportunity to amend my approach or add a different angle to my presentation.
Here’s the truth–and you’ll just have to believe that it’s the truth since you’re not that familiar with my soul.
You can change your cologne but not your face.
What I mean by that is, if somebody wants you to smell different, it’s really no big deal.
But when somebody wants to change your look–or your outlook–they’ve landed on sacred ground.
I’m always willing to change things that don’t matter, but I won’t budge if I believe they have eternal consequences.