Reconciling Saints

Fear has stopped me from doing a few things in my life.

When I was a kid I remember backing out of the student council in Kindergarten (I know, right?!) because I didn't understand what was going on and because I didn't want to be singled out from the other kids. Trust me, I learned it was a dumb reason about a year or so later, mainly because I was singled out again and this time I thought, "Hang on a minute! Not being with everyone else isn't so much a bad thing."

Not being afraid of fear, conversely, has made a lot of things happen in my life that may not have happened. I like to think that my kindergarten experience has some to do with that. These, however, with the exception of a few big ones, have been small things like just allowing myself to be me and not give a damn what anyone says or thinks in order to live life the way I think I should live it.

I call them small because some big things have been placed on back burners when it comes to, oh, you know, my writing.

I was watching a rerun of an old Project Runway the other day where one of the youngest in the competition finds herself as one of the last 5 and she resigns. They showed some insights from the other designers as to what they thought of her decision and the guy who ended up winning says something like don't think that it's an easy or stupid decision for her to make because you don't know the pressure or what it's like to be here.

I could see myself, especially at her age, going right back to my kindergarten days and saying, "Get me off of this thing!" Is it a big deal? Yes. Would it, if she won or even made it to Fashion Week, change a lot things and open doors in her life? Probably, yeah.

I know it's good to know when you're in over your head for whatever reason, but enough is enough.

I feel like I can look back and see when I've quietly retreated or let the other things in my life over-run my want-to-do-s or should-be-doing-s. I really want to stop this pattern and that's why, in part, I'm seriously thinking about what to do with this little space of the internets that I call mine. At some point I have, and I feel that I do, take responsibility for where I am creatively.

Something's gotta give... and I don't feel like it should have to be my writing which means that I have to do something about that.

' "The time has come," the walrus said, "to talk of many things: of shoes and ships and sealing wax - of cabbages and kings." '
~ Lewis Carroll ~

So I came across this old favorite of mine:

I sat down to write and I thought I'd do a little mind-puking first (as one of my creative writing teachers called the process of voiding our minds of all the other "words" running around in our brain that were cluttering it up) and found this pic whilst looking for a good graphic for this post.

I found it fitting as I have sort of started to take a "Oh fuck it; let's shoot this fucker!" kinda attitude to my writing lately. So here I am for the... 50th time??.. finally sitting down to seriously get some shit out there, and no, not just on this here blog o'mine.

I think it's kinda cool when I find something inspiring again.

So I'm still thinking about changing up this place. Maybe just a new look... maybe just a place to spew... I'm not sure. I kinda got tired of this being diary-esque but I also do like a place where I can just ... talk... and keep my friends updated (when they do read it... no worries, it's not your fault).

I don't know yet. However, I do know that I want to write more although not necessarily here, but I think I will from time to time. Kinda like my "word vomitorium."

To go back to the pic, I'd like to say that it's also fitting of who I am today. I'm trying to channel all of that into my writing and by doing so, just... writing, which is doing more than I had been and trying to do something about getting it out there.

The story of all that was and what it was, i.e. my marriage to Da5id, is a hard story to write. Last weekend I was working on a memoir for a contest submission and I found it quite difficult to write. I just couldn't seem to put the story of us into words and I've been trying to figure out why. It might be because there's more to it than just my side or his side or it might be because there's no way to really quantify what we had. It existed and at times was a great love story with miracles and overcome hardships and at other times it was all heartbreak and miscommunications. Still, maybe I can't come to terms with it and perhaps that is why the writing of it was so hard.

I took on the subject because, if I were to ever write a memoir (hypothetically speaking), that part of my life is a great and vast story that did a lot in the shaping of my life, especially as it's 10 of the 35 years I've been alive.

Unfortunately, I couldn't do it and I missed the deadline. I found myself with the proper word count but no real shape to the story of it all, just a mix of points of view, ways of telling it, and what looked a lot like my "spew" on this here blog. Where, I asked myself, was the story? How do I shape it? To that, I don't think I have an answer yet.

I'm still working on it as there's next year's early deadline of February, which seems a long time away. It's possible that I'll never be content with how I tell it, what I got from it, or even be able to concisely put into words the essence of it. It might be that the story of us is much bigger than anything I can put into words... or maybe I've just had a hard time seeing the big picture. It's still something I'd like to work through in writing, though, if only just to tell this great story that I have to tell. It was and, yes, still is one of my favorite stories and I think that that comes from the joy I had of just living it.

I've said it a thousand times and I'll say it again, I love my life and if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a single thing nor would I trade it with anyone in the world.