No-one knows what they’re doing until they do

Lemme let you in on a little secret. I don’t know what I’m doing. maybe some of you have figured that out already, if you have read my last two posts you may be on to me. But here is the kicker. Im doing it anyway. So i guess you could look at it this way, its the old fake it till you make it, or if you’ve watched that amazing ted talk (if you haven’t you could do yourself a favour and watch it here) fake it till you become it. So being a fan of cliche’s (which are apparently a no no when writing, but whatevs) I’m giving it the old college try. I have spent a lifetime of not doing the things that make my heart sing because of that little secret.But here is something I’ve figured out: no-one started out knowing what the were doing. Every amazing accomplishement started with someone taking that first step. Reaching into the unknown and grabbing on to whatever they could get a grip on. So here i go. I have basically no formal writing training. I did take a part time college course way way back on travel writing and I’ve also been writing poetry since i was eleven, but does that qualify me to do anything? Nope. Is writing this blog paying me anything? Nope. Is anyone reading this? i dunno, we shall see. But I’m not writing this for anyone else but me. So what is it you have always wanted to do? Think abut that. Write it down. Maybe you have a whole fistful of dreams you’ve never dared to let fly out of the grip of all the naysaying voices in and out of you’re head. Write them all down. Then what you’re  going to do is narrow that list down to one thing you can start doing right now. Is there a trip you’ve always wanted to take? Start saving right now, don’t buy that $4 cuppa and put that money in a drawer, under your mattress, in a piggy bank, in an old pb jar. Start there. If money is not the issue, then what is holding you back? Write a list of what is stopping you. Then cross those reasons off that list one by one and buy that fucking ticket. Get up off your ass and get out the door. Always wanted to write a novel? Well lookeee loo, start the 500 word a day challenge, thats what I’m doing as we speak. I know you may not know what your doing, but like i said, neither do I and I’m doing it anyway. Stop thinking of all the reasons why you cant and pick one reason why you need to. Your heart, soul, spirit that big giant something greater than all the no’s is telling you yes. So yes! You will make mistakes. Who cares? Everyone makes mistakes. If someone has you convinced that they don’t, well honey they are full of shit. We all stumble through the door on occasion the only thing that matters is that you walk through that door. Thanks for reading ❤

P.S. Seeing as poetry really is my thing, here is a poem.

Dullbulb

that dust you gather

that light you shut out

and all that standing still

possessing the trappings

of a convincing lampshade

invest in some dingle balls

spice it up a bit at least

fucks sake

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stop taking pride in being too busy. enough already.

Friends, there are a few of you that I am worried about.

Then of course i worry about worrying which is beside the point and a topic of conversation for a whole other blog post. Do me a fave and remind me of that later K?

Anyway, what was i saying? oh yeah, Those friends whose behaviour has been concerning me. Really folks its this big fat glorification of busy that has me shaking my head and my fist. Listen, some of you really need to slow down. Ya’ll need to hear this: you aren’t here to work till you drop. I just cant see the point of this entire thing we call the universe solely existing for the purpose of how many hours you can work in a week come home feed the kids take em to playgroup, soccer, hockey band camp, tuba lessons, swim class, zoomba fit, power yoga, spend all your money on a boosted juice (cause the bitches cost a lot, are you kidding me I’m not working an hour for a damn juice) tick tocko punch the clocko  cant do anything cause all your time is spent making money and all your money is spent making up for the lost time YOU CANT BUY BACK TIME. Once its done its done. So here is the bottom line, I’m watching you all run around in this crazy race, doing the look at me dance. The “heres a list of the 10 bajillion things i did this week to fill the void that knows deep down that this isn’t what life is all about but validate how valuable i am based on my level of exhaustion, did you know i make my own fucking cheese while working 13 jobs and raising 8 kids and i have 3 cats and two dogs and volunteer at the old folks home 10 days a weeeeeeeeek” JUST STOPPIT. You know the only time y’all slow down is when you get sick, the only time you allow yourselves to rest is when youre so run down that your body turns on you and then and only then will you curl up in a huddled ball of snot and relax. and you know what? i know half of you cant even not feel guilty about doing nothing EVEN THEN. Little rat brain all a scurry. So lets cultivate the art of doing nothing. I don’t mean do nothing all the time. But sheesh people give yourselves a break, you deserve it. You haven’t sat down for five minutes completely silently to yourself for months. Start there. Go to your bedroom, get in your car and drive to the middle of nowhere, hide in your back yard, stand in your goddamned closet if thats where you have to start, and take 5 fucking minutes to do nothing but breathe. Heres what you’re going to do, set a timer and for 5 minutes breathe in to the count of four and out to the count of five. Do that for one week. And for chris sake if you cant commit to giving yourself heaven forbid 5 minutes a day for one week, just start with today. go do it. right now. Let me say it again, you deserve it. Can you feel me? I hope so. Because I care about you. Thanks for reading ❤

 

P.S. Heres a poem.

Ode to J.Livingston Seagull

you’ve  mistaken my intention

I am rising

up and out of this

glitter clatter

out from under the glare

of these false sunshines

out of from under

this constant barrage of constant

up and into

the sweet thin air

where i can breathe

where my companions

the inaudible stars

wait to greet me

with offerings of solitude

and sanctuary

I am rising

preparing

to soar

hit

struck down crush
no bones
would crunch
but a soul would shake
today
you were born
long while ago now
today you are broken
long while
ever after?
dust it off shake
I watch you
find you
found you
lost you
come on up
to the living land
your own two feet
back under burden
shook you look you
still breathe
mama child
this life is wild
howl
for the sake of a
wakening
settle up
let down your
hell
blow out your candles
wish yourself up
greater than this
less
this ash
needs a strong wind
clean breeze
stretch your arms out wide
open launch

squashing the muffin

i complain a lot
out loud
or in my head
either or
a complaint is
a complaint
whether it touches air or no
there it is
a hanging atmospheric
pressure
clogging the flow
hand pressed down
atop my head
yours mine theirs ours
it does not matter
the palm presses
compresses
compacting
slow weight
impairment of ease
where is my easel
aisle
path
“cause theres still time t’ change throad yuron”
ear to the shoulder
chin to the chest
in through the nose
out through the mouth

a nice pink flamingo

that time of year
little old ladies
get the hose out
wash the walkway
vacuum the lawn
fingerwag
the neighbors dandelion kingdom
tisk scowl
trick planting
silk flowers
in white plastic swans
i love them
their lack of
environmental accountability
sustainability
confident
in the rightness
of their spray can
of raid