Driving back from Cannon Beach, OR. Had my first cup of coffee in months which makes me think I am a strong writer... perhaps even brilliant. My driver/ friend is telling me his brilliant ideas for screenplays, which sound brilliant to me... it’s like we are both on caffeine. We are and why not? It's bril.
Ideas, how do you put the work behind them to make them functional? Even if you do make them function, there is no guarantee that they will become anything more than random accomplishments. That is no reason to not walk in the functional direction, right? Perhaps it will lead you to the next piece and everything will feel aligned eventually. Maybe I should meditate.
Most everything I write seems to be aimed at humor, like something silly, irreverent and ridiculous means more than the other aspects of my personality. I’ve been hanging out with comedians too long. I try to avoid seeming too righteous or preachy, but I am... I am totally pretentious. I wish I weren’t, because I see people who put other people at ease and there seems to be a better quality of life there. Grass is always greener on the other side, but learning how to better my landscape doesn't have to leave me longing for the out of reach.
I used to make fun of my mom for how dysfunctional she was and eighty percent of the time, it worked, she laughed and I felt like I had a voice. Twenty percent of the time, I struck a nerve and even though it was true, didn’t make it funny to her. That twenty percent got me into foster care, but that’s over... it’s like it didn’t even happen, so I don’t know why I try to draw water from that desert bed. Habitual pride in the “wrong” that happened in your youth, which entitles you to righteousness. I liken an abusive childhood and foster care to being a racial minority and the pride you feel identifying with something that separates you from other people. Even while I write this, I imagine people collectively validating me by admiring my transparency. “She’s so aware.” I started this paragraph to explain where I learned how to pick people apart or why I think I do it. The tendency could also be born out of a general dissatisfaction with the way my own life is going.
I am running out of money and still have so much to spend. I am nervous, but mostly just overwhelmed by life. I am on a physical journey across the world, but my destination is to grow into that person who can listen without wanting to change what she deems wrong with other people. To recognize where I'm at and what I have to do with out a monochromatic label. To be okay getting out of a routine and being at ease with experiencing life. I understand how it seems like I am new aging here; silver “wisdom streaks” and majestic crows feet, physical traces of "life’s beauty". Just being able to trust myself and giving my ear graciously to other peoples’ stories without thinking about what I can interject to be right. Giving up the idea of “winning”.
Can this be my destination and also, can life give me a killer deal on some airfare? Not figuratively, but to Europe... I've been waiting to buy the "right" ticket and may just need to splurge.
No comments:
Post a Comment