I’m jet lagged; haven’t finished going through my mail or doing the laundry; went out last night because I had to see Lucia who made me some great Courting Destiny business cards! They do look like I’m a madam for an escort service or something but who cares?
I will be back to Zachary next week. I will even spend one day just surfing through blogs now unkown to me.
Need a break, and the family reunion will occupy Friday night through Sunday morning. When people ask that first pivotal question, I will just hand them a card, and force them to take me and blogging seriously. Sure anybody who doesn’t work 9-5 knows that question well.
“So what are you doing?”
How does she support herself?
It’s the dog days of August; life is supposed to be slower and more mellow now. I will try to practice that.
I think I have found my great love in life, and it’s called writing. I will always adore, be faithful to and treat myself well. That’s not a promise; it’s a goal. While men have promised that; I’m the only person who can make it a true number one goal.
Lucia says that I look like I’m in love and am glowing. It has only taken me most of my life to come back to what I always knew that I wanted to do.
Maybe sometimes we have to go around the world many times to find out that our street is the best one; maybe sometimes we have to work at many careers before coming home to the one that fits like the tightest Italian leather glove, is as soft, smooth and wears well forever.
But I tend to lose gloves like that. I don’t want to lose myself; my promises to myself.
Nor do I ever want to forget the way I feel now. Secure, happy, and sure that I have made the right decision. I actually almost feel mature and wise. Do people ever really feel that way for more than a day or a couple of hours? Do most people put on act called maturity? Do most people never think about that and let life role over them?
I wish I could ask my parents that question. They would have understood; they would have answered honestly. They probably did answer this question not once but several times. Now that they’re up there somewhere, their words tend to come in a jumble, all the years feel as one, and sometimes I can’t remember exactly how they felt about certain things. Other times I remember everything with great clarity. I want to keep them in the moment with me yet I refuse to make every decision based on ghosts and images I have resurrected that might only be my perception or my want.
Stop this Pia, you promised yourself you wouldn’t analyze every word that enters your brain, or every thought that occupies the space you call your mind.
But taking this to the next level; it seems so easy and so impossible at the same time. A year ago this week when I began this blog I had no idea that anybody would read it but me. People do; my confidence in my ability to hold peoples interest has increased a thousand fold.
Not being 25 or even 35 anymore presents certain limitations in the world of relentless self-promotion. It’s strange to still have things to prove, to me, if not to anybody else. Maybe that helps. Maybe it keeps me young and reminds me, constantly, of the way I once felt. Maybe it’s a good thing to still have mountains to climb; to still want to suceed at things that once seemed as unattainable as jumping to the moon by myself.
Maybe I should smile, give out my new Courting Destiny business cards, and say:
“This is me; this is who I will be; this is who I have become.”
Stop me before I become Helen Reddy singing “I am woman….”
You know, it might have been a stupid song but the message was a good one. Let me take that message to middle aged nirvana. Most of all let me get the book proposal into final fighting form.
Stop this Pia, go back to bed so you can get back up and take off the sparing gloves. Life’s too short to be so insecure. And you’re not; you’re really really not.