I still can’t add content to my website, and I can’t figure out the problem. Part of that is the lack of time to sit and figure out the issue…seems like it always gets shoved to the bottom of the ‘to-do’ list. I need to move it closer to the top.
It’s funny, I still think these blog posts should be about one subject. Don’t know why. This piece will be scattered. I can feel it. But all of these tidbits are what’s been running in my mind the last…two months? Yes. Two months.
For almost three years I have been trying to articulate a thought I had about choices in life. Specifically, a choice that to me equals happiness versus unhappiness. Every time I think I’ve got the words, I sit at the keyboard and it still doesn’t sound right. Well sometimes I whip out my phone and add to the saved document that way…but you know what I mean. The thing is, I feel like if I could sit down with another person and a bottle of wine or two, I could flawlessly and articulately explain my position and they would understand. Why the hell is it taking me THREE FUCKING YEARS to flesh out this one thought on paper? Is it THAT important to me? Or, are my words failing me in middle age?! Or am I suffering from some illusion of perfection; the post needs to be perfect before I share it?
I’ve had some mind-blowing things happen to me the last two months. Surreal conversations; things that would have worked out VERY differently if they had unfolded in another way or at another time. My black little soul has developed a bit of a soft spot after some of these talks. Not sure if this is good or bad, LOL. Foremost are conversations with people who have actually read my writing and wanted to talk about it. Go ahead, chuckle. I’ll wait, and then I’ll explain…
I write for me. Mostly for me…95% for me, anyway. I generally don’t give a flying fuck if anyone reads what I’ve written, and that’s the truth. The glaring exception is “Breaking the Silence” series…but that’s the five percent. I write for me, because I love it, because I feel weird if I’m not writing, because it helps me sort things out, because I have always written and can’t imagine a time when I won’t be writing. And yes, I’m well aware I’m publishing on teh interwebz; theoretically putting my mind and heart out there for ANYONE to read.
Turns out people I know are reading my writing. And I’m like, WHY? No really, part of me is like WHY. Who the hell am I? I’m just some chick from South Jersey trying to find my way through life. Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s heartbreaking, always it is lonely, and always it is real. I guess I can’t figure out why anyone would be so interested in what’s going on in my head. Because that’s really all most of this is. I was floored the first time an old acquaintance approached me to talk about my writing two months ago. I sat there and read what he wrote about my writing with my mouth hanging open. I still re-read it with a sense of awe and gratitude. I suppose every writer dreams of audience feedback…but this was a totally new experience for me.
Two more friends approached me, again in writing, to let me know that they felt less alone and more courageous after reading my blog. Those words my peeps…they moved me to tears. I’m a little verklempt even thinking about it now. I set up this blog/website and Facebook page as an outlet for myself. To learn that my thoughts or experiences or ideas may have helped another person-especially someone I care about-well, my Grinchy heart may have grown three sizes since then.
I keep referring to the last two months. An oddly specific time, yes? I know this probably sounds crazy or silly, but I swear there was a shift in my personal “Force” two months ago. A shift for the better. I feel strong and a little invincible; and I trace it all back to the day I got that flaming phoenix tattooed on my back. I’m serious. I know we as humans can make whatever we want (or don’t want) out of signs and symbols. That tattoo meant more to me than the art; and you can read the piece entitled “Triumph? 3/10/18” to learn more about why. Overcoming that hurdle, and realizing I overcame it, was both awesome and humbling. I still expect to feel fear in the midst of strangers…but the fear doesn’t come. Each time the fear doesn’t come I almost want to cry, because it is a relief to NOT be afraid. I have room for other thoughts and feelings because the fear is all but gone. Knowing that I can move forward without the prison that fear kept me in…it’s humbling. Maybe I am not broken. Maybe I am not damaged goods. Maybe…just maybe…everything is going to be okay.
Shown below, the inside of my wallet with the note I taped there to remind myself…