Did you know there’s a whole other side to Your Burning Desire Productions that operates in the back room, behind all these sunny little postcards? Yep, it’s called resale, people, and if you know anything about the resale biz, you’ll know it’s a ruthless industry full of ruthless actors like me, stomping around sites like Etsy and Depop, shouting BUY LOW, SELL MYSELF HIGH and other testy bargaining exchanges with potential buyers.

It’s possible that you might be even stronger than I am. But it’s not a competition, so that doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters, when it comes to strength, is that you believe you’re strong. Having said that, the “belief curve” for one’s own self always seems to be the slowest. That’s why I can believe in your strength 100 percent, while I’m only at about 70 percent right now for my own.

Go ahead, underestimate me. Tell me my dreams are crazy, or that my resources are inadequate. Little do you know, I’ve been training at the gym like a Navy Seal (and not only for the upper body strength). Self-discipline and focus are an unstoppable combination, when harnessed to serve the highest power of all: True Love.

Life is full of enough people who will doubt you, as it is. Your mother. Your coworkers. Even your best frenemy. These people have a vested interest in putting you down, so they can regard themselves as prettier/smarter/more powerful than you. I would urge you to discard their doubts like it’s a box of mealy nectarines — they may look convincing, but deep down they’re utterly pointless.   

Ditch the makeup. Ditch the jewelry. You can even ditch the Botox and fancy Lululemon workout gear. Show up as your natural, sweaty, gutsy self and see what happens, instead. Chances are, you’ll blow ‘em away with the natural born resources True Love gifted you with. Mascara serves nobody but fat-cat cosmetics executives.

I think this is a tough one for a lot of people. Modern society seems to be all about comparison and competition, which triggers the constant compulsion to prove ourselves to others. But having made it to the other side of odious comparisons, I can tell you that the road to inner peace is paved with Not Giving One Single Fuck.

This postcard gives me a giggle every time, and I’m not the only one — judging from the number of people I’ve seen have that reaction at the YBD pop-up shop. I can only assume there’s a lot of us who relate to the idea of walking away from a bad situation like we’ve just stripped down to a bikini and a hot bod on a beautiful beach with zero creeps to feel self-conscious in front of.

God knows I’ve made plenty of mistakes over the course of my life. Some of those still have the power to make me cringe, when I think about them now. This is the postcard for exactly those moments. Because it’s lot easier to never apologize for your heart than it is to go around retroactively apologizing to all the people who cringe at the memory of your shenanigans, too.

Happily, this has been one of the most popular cards at the YBD pop-up shop recently. I’d like to think it’s because my customers are the kind of beautifully independent types who truly believe that there are no limits to their potential. But IDK, the cupcakes might also have something to do with it?

And when I say “self-love,” what I really mean is “True Love.” Because that’s the nature of the love that lives inside yourself. I mean, obviously. But also… not obviously. Am I making any sense, here? (Discuss.)

They say that the secret to a great life is to keep an open mind and a humble heart. I’d agree, up to a certain point. In my experience, that point is about age 46 (at least, for women). It’s right around then that you realize you’ve been right about pretty much everything.

They say that the best stories in movies or TV are the ones that come to a “surprising but inevitable” conclusion — no matter if the ending is a happy or sad one. I think that wisdom applies when we realize the truth about our own selves, too. At first it’s like “oh shit, no way!” But sooner or later you’re just like, “yeah, that totally makes sense.” (*shrug*)

Instead of treating yo’self with relentless criticism and self-doubt, how about trying something new? Treat yo’self with kindness. Treat yo’self with respect for your own limits. And treat yo’self with the kind of love and affection that will have people wondering what your secret is. (Spoiler: self-love.)

I’ve been waiting and waiting for the perfect opportunity to tell somebody I sat through ten thousand A.A. meetings, so you don’t have to. I mean, you should still go to meetings yourself, if you’ve got a problem. But even if you never do, at least now you’ll get the benefit of this precious nugget of wisdom, a clever 12-Step acronym for FEAR. Anything less is just fuck everything and run.

This quote isn’t a YBD original, but it should be. You might be surprised by how many folks seem completely baffled by the irreverence of YBD postcards. But really, what’s to explain? They’re sometimes sweet, sometimes salty, and always drop-dead gorgeous!

There’s nothing like coming home from a party in your best clothes and realizing you just wasted the last six hours trying to impress a bunch of people you don’t truly give a fuck about… instead of, let’s say, running through a fountain in your bare feet, carrying a bunch of balloons that you let fly in a grand flourish. Try to look at the glass as half full, and you’ll be halfway to True Love already.

I love that this card has sold consistently well at YBD’s pop-up shop this summer. Now, I know most people just want to check out quickly and move on to the sourdough bread tent, but if I were more outgoing I’d say something while bagging their cards like, ohhhh it makes me so happy that you chose this card in the name of self-love, honey.

I feel like this is the card that makes little old ladies hightail it out of the YBD pop-up shop. I mean, either that, or they absolutely love it (as long as they’re a progressive kind of little old lady). Either way, this is a card to be adored… worshipped… and worthy of bringing the heads of goats to, in tribute.

For whatever reason, teenagers and young adults seem especially amused by this postcard. Is it because they’re high, as they giggle and call their similarly stoned friends over to look at it? Or am I the only one who’s obsessed with the getting high/being high distinction, now that I’m clean?

A brand new life isn’t about moving to an ashram in India so you can sit cross-legged and meditate all day. And a brand new life isn’t running away with the girl next door, so she can fill all the dark holes in your lonely soul. No, a brand new life is available to you, right where you are, starting today. The first step is just to close your eyes and visualize something better.

It would be nice if a bunch of highly ethical, solidly financed Wall Street investors descended upon my home tomorrow, all wanting to invest $5 million into Your Burning Desire Productions, LLC, based on the commercially viable humor and good taste displayed in my postcards. But short of that? I’ll just have to keep plugging away at my own dreams, building my own humble but totally serious empire, brick by brick.

The old wisdom for sober addicts is “one day at a time,” but my own personal motto is “one breath at a time.” Not only does increased oxygen to the brain turn the volume down on junkie cravings, but it’s been well documented that long, slow, deep-ass breaths can actually get you high.