I have a series of related ideas that are coming together disjointedly like raindrops on a window pane. I am almost tempted to stop, make a paragraph organizer similar to something I give to my students, and then try to continue with this blog. I think instead I will try the stream of consciousness approach that usually leaves me feeling a few burdens lighter, if nothing else.
When I was a kid and I wanted to be a writer (some dreams never die) my mother used to tell me to write about what I knew. It was the thing she always came back to when I complained that I couldn't finish something: "Write what you know." The problem was, I didn't know anything. I knew about my neighborhood and my family and my third grade buddies, but that wasn't the stuff that I wanted to create novels about. So I wrote hundreds of fanastical Chapter Ones before realizing I had no idea where to go with a plot line and characters I couldn't empathize with.
Many years later, when I was in my twenties, my mother said to me, exasperated I'm sure: "You always have to learn things the hard way." I can remember at first feeling defensive at this statement but I soon realized she was right. I had been headstrong and independent my whole life and when I reflected on the many tumults life had handed me, I had definitely brought a lot of them on myself, choosing always to venture into situations that I could have been protected from had I heeded the advice of others. Like a typical young adult, I never thought anyone really knew what I was going through or what was best for me. Now that I'm a parent, I can't imagine what I put my poor mom and dad through. Disclaimer: sorry Mom and Dad. :)
I guess there were times when I regretted decisions I made and experiences I've had. The thought has crossed my mind that if I had just listened to my father I wouldn't have had to suffer through that last hardship, etc. But most of the time, when I look at where I am now, I'm not mad about my mistakes. I think my mother was right when she said that I always have to learn things the hard way--but I don't think that I am wrong for being that way either. I came to the realization that maybe there were lessons I needed to learn on my own so that I can better empathize with the rest of humanity. What kind of a writer would I be if I hadn't struck out on my own and had a little bit of pain, fear, or heart break thrust upon me?
Where is my point? I'm not trying to wax poetic about the cliche "You can't be old and wise if you were never young and crazy." motto that so many people cling to before they've even realized what kinds of trouble they could be getting their "young and crazy" asses into... and I'm definitely not selling some line of YOLO (translation: You Only Live Once) crap. What I'm saying is, I constantly have to remind myself that it's okay to live my life the way that is true to who I am. Sometimes people seem to have opinions about how I should do things and how I should live, which is so weird because I could mostly care less about what other people choose to do with their life, as long as it is what makes them happy and of course that they are not hurting themselves or others. I think maybe I just view life differently than people assume I do...I don't accept norms and rules on life that so many people attach themselves to---more so than even just the whole gay marriage issue---I truly don't think there is a right or a wrong way to live your life as long as you are living in peace. I am not bothered by tattoos or homosexuals or transgender people or hipsters or fat people or anyone else. I encourage people to be daring and different and shed the shackles of sameness and blah, I think it makes them more beautiful. I don't welcome restrictions on happiness in general. I wonder why then, do people feel the need to restrict me? And why do I sometimes let them?
"The challenge is to be yourself in a world that is trying to make you just like everyone else."
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