I've decided to blog again. Blame it on simply life happening: My recent experience at my 20-year high school reunion spurned it and it was solidified by a visit to the bookstore last weekend. Go figure.
I'm a writer. I'm also a dancer (you'll find out more later), a card designer (I hung it up, though, 10 years ago), and maybe a bunch of other things. I'm a creative person that, somewhere down the line, forgot how to be creative. A mind-blowing semi-waste of talent. Real talk. Writing, though, is where I shine. I do. I've learned to use my voice over the years in a multitude of ways, but writing really seems to give me a glorious feeling that makes my toes curl. Once I found out what kind of writing makes this happen, it was all good stuff from there. Unfinished good stuff, but good stuff nonetheless.
I have blogged twice before: once when I was really depressed after having my second child and then again right before my dad died two years ago. I deleted both of these blogs. I mean, I was sick of sharing my being sick because it wasn't making me unsick. Writing about depression begats more writing about depression with links to sites about depression and...well, you get it. My second attempt at blogging was extremely cathartic and expressive and funny, but then I realized that I was depressed again and my blog was starting to reflect that, making me depressed even more. No bueno. Delete button. For, like, ever.
I just read Aisha Tyler's newest book. Well, sort of. The fam and I were in that big-box bookstore that we all know and love and loathe at the same time and I was reading a magazine with Janelle Monae on the cover that referenced Aisha's book. The genius of that moment! I marched right over to the bio section and plucked her book from the shelf. Sat there for an hour and read as much as I could and fell in love with this woman. I mean, I like her anyway, but I really fell in love with her on this day. See, the brilliance of her latest book is this: 1) It's written in short, concise, funny-ass chapters, 2) It's written from her quirky and funny-as-shit perspective, and 3) It's totally demonstrating humility to the nth power. I laughed out loud repeatedly in that quiet bookstore (which isn't completely outside of the norm for me, even if ish ain't necessarily funny) and decided to blog again right then and there.
See, it's like this: There are some nagging things on my mind lately and I can't possibly journal about them all every day. There are just TOO many things. Mainly, I've got ish I've really regretted over the last 38 years and it's gnawing at my insides, killing my joy. Yeah, that deep. Anyone who doesn't have regrets gets a big fat "God bless 'em" from me and an eye-roll, too. Great. I wanna' be where you are someday. But there is something to the humility that I felt when I read Tyler's book. There is liberation and freedom and an unrequited compassion for yourself when you just let it out, own it, and keep it moving. No amount of prayer or meditation or journaling or acting like it never happened seems to be working for me. Blogging about my past regrets is where it's at. I think.
Of course, now I'm practicing balance in my life so if I'm gonna' let loose about regrets, I've gotta' let loose about non-regrets as well. It's just gotta' be that way. I mean, acknowledging the light is more important, actually, than acknowledging the dark and quite frankly, my dear, I'm trying to attract more light in my life at this point! My gray arm hair demands it. Life is supposed to be, well...LIVED. Can't get busy living if you're too busy dying (says Morgan Freeman-as-Red-in-The-Shawshank-Redemption). Word up.
So here goes the list of ish I DO regret. The plan is to blog every day over the next month or so, alternating between the regrets and the non-regrets. Make sense? If not, oh well. I might just be a little rusty on this writing thing. Bear with a sista'.
1) Wearing my hair straight instead of curly to my 20-year high school reunion
2) Ignoring ME, all the time
3) Not starting a teen magazine
4) Not minoring in dance, or taking enough dance classes, or dancing enough, or dancing as an adult
5) Turning down the dude who asked me to the prom
6) Ignoring ME, all the time
7) Dishonoring my word and not visiting my friend Sam one last time in the hospice
8) Leaving my own cleaning business idea on the backburner
9) Leaving books I've begun writing unfinished on my laptop
10) Negotiating terms of salary down or not negotiating at all (So. DUMB.)
11) Wimping out and not hitting up that Sade concert in '01. (Super-dumb)
(Yes, I did repeat #2 as #6. Real, deep regret there.)
(Yes, I did repeat #2 as #6. Real, deep regret there.)
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