Regrets, I've had a few

Never be limited by other people’s limited imaginations.

Dr. Mae C. Jemison

I heard an interview with Toni Morrison before she died and she spoke of regrets, of being unhappy or unsettled because of regrets, about her children. Why she did this and not that.

I don't want to die not having said what brought me here. Here to earth I mean. Here into the great slush of humanity at this time in this place, whatever that means given we are told, we are timeless, there is no here, we are dust, we are magic, we are great , we are small, we are we are we are…balanced on the pinpoint of human calamities occurring even as these words are written.


I live with many regrets and there's not a goddamn thing I can do about most.

One I will not live with is not coming alive, living the fullest life available, being generous as all things have been given to me and this, this life is a nauseating ride until the bitter end, as we never actually know what is the end. So say it loud. Say it clear.

I am freeing myself for a great adventure, building a life of travel and cooking and taming the beast, my beast, the thing that wants always to overcome me, resist me into oblivion, shopping and new hairdos.

I believe there are so many others, like or unlike me, who also wish to walk away from the lies we've believed.

Yesterday I mentioned western culture, American culture. I am steeped in it but having stepped away for over a year, to Italy, another time place culture, I got to experience another way of living. Not necessarily better, just different in terms of priorities and well, fullness. A deep worship of being alive. Though that always can be questioned. No place is free of oppression and sin. Sin, for me, meaning oppression. It thrives in Italy as freely as in the states. But, the men are handsomer and the food not better per se, but closer to the earth, earthier, handmade, loved, space made for it. One does not drink from a plastic cup on the street or from a bottle, but a glass even if it is plastic.


My regret.

Not living into my creativity. Not holding tight to my dreams. Letting myself be churned and bobbled in a furious little life stream, not big really, only in my head.

And believing the fools and naysayers around me, even people who birthed me, befriended me, hired me, taught me, loved me.

Steven Pressfield said, "You have to play hurt." He means, you live life with your wounds and make and do what you came to earth for without those wounds being healed first. Yes, get help, AND keep playing.

I must have got lost, I must have got lost…somewhere down the line.

This is not a pity party. I wish not to blame but to try and understand how I got buried and how I am digging out.

It's never too late.

This is one of many reports to come, I hope it is some comfort to know we are more alike and all struggle.

I need to make it plain, say the words, save myself.

Until Tomorrow.

Buy and read

THE WAR OF ART

"Read this one first. It identifies the enemy—what I call Resistance with a capital “R,” i.e. fear, self-doubt, procrastination, perfectionism, all the forms of self-sabotage that stop us from doing our work and realising our dreams. Start here. Everything else proceeds from this."