I am the fucking queen of procrastination! Here I sit with my lovely little iBook, a Case Study to analyze and write 2000 words about and I choose, perhaps not the wisest decision made regarding my priorities, to update my diary instead. The nerve she has!
This weekend has been just as fantastic as I knew it would be so far, interspersed with little moments of panic. Friday night, Margarita Mary’s was a blast! Old faces, new faces, friends and my father, plenty of booze and Mexican food to go around. Sigh. Good times, good times. Saturday, I had a few break-downs. Suffering from too much excitement, my nerves are on the fritz and I am prone to emote at random.
To spend over 10 years handwriting my thoughts to myself on a daily basis, and four years sharing them anonymously and semi-publicly, then to just put it all OUT there for a city to see, can be a scary experience. My journal, my thoughts, my diary, it’s so… it’s so ME. Nevertheless, my need to share and be heard wins yet again over my trepidations, and I cannot seem to stop myself. OCD can be so delicious at times!
This morning I went to “church” with my father. The Rev greeted me with a genuflection (always the diplomatic prince), and told me what he thought of my writing. He told me I was inspiring. That he could see authenticity, that he could see reality, in my words. Humbled and overcome with joy and elation at his praise, I shared a little something, “Kevin,” I said, “I am in GREAT need of a message today. I spent a lot of time panicking about transitions yesterday, and I could use some guidance. I hope it’s a good one.” He joked about my lightly exerted pressure, and we proceeded into the big room.
The message was perfect. Always in need of a plan, I forget that sometimes, it is our plans that hold us back. I have been concerned about people I can’t communicate effectively with, situations that are slightly different now that so many people in my life have peeked inside my mind. Kevin said, “Anything created with less than authenticity will be destroyed.” The message was that destruction ends in new life. How many times have I experienced this in the “shifting of my tripod”? How many times has my life suffered from great destruction – the death of a loved one, the loss of a job, the loss of a friend or lover, with more than two happening at the same time – just to end up with more love and success than I ever could have imagined? Three times. If you’re curious.
This is why I chose to have the phoenix tattooed on my body. Birth. Death. Rebirth. Growth, transition, change. After church, my father shared with me a few Emerson quotes (we should all know by now that Emerson is my favorite thinker), and I will leave you with them:
“The way to speak and write what shall not go out of fashion is to speak and write sincerely. … He that writes to himself writes to an eternal public." It is no coincidence that I once had a rat named Ralph.