Be As You Are, As You See, As I Am, I Am

How does one go about reconciling who one was, with who one now is?

In my head, I’m still young and fit and full of joie de vivre. So, imagine my surprise when I look in the mirror! The reflection isn’t one of a life well lived; rather of a life too busy to live. And that life is becoming increasingly evident by the visible fine lines for the entire world to see. Oh sure, I had my day in the sun! But apparently I was drunk when dusk arrived. I’m not ready for the night, and yet, I’m oddly ready to rest. It’s an awkward condition.

I suppose I just didn’t do so many things while I was busy doing so much.
I suppose I thought I would be somewhere else doing something else with a Me that didn’t actualize.

Perhaps I thought the Me I would become would just materialize one day.

I blame my Nana and my father. I grew up being told I would live an extraordinary life; that I would be extraordinary. I suppose some extraordinary things have happened; I've seen some stuff not many see, and done some stuff not everybody does... but still, in my head, much like my hair this morning, “extraordinary” turned out differently than I imagined.

I had a dream last night that was so real, and in it I was so young. For a few brief moments after waking, I once again possessed that feeling of optimism and enthusiasm for whatever lay ahead today. I felt invincible and desirable and… ready.
It was a painful realization that came a few moments later when it occurred to me that I have too many nouns which require verbs to linger over adjectives anymore.

This isn’t about discontent. It’s about how we manage to accept ourselves and our choices. Not that there’s choice in it. We “are.” And it “is.” No, this is about trying to rediscover that person I wanted to be – I thought I would be. More the person I was, ever so briefly, once before. Of course, that was in great part nothing more than the naiveté that comes with no life experience… and no money!

I have a photograph of myself stuck to one of my computer monitors from the last day I remember being who I was. It’s a great capture of the essence of a life still to be lived. I love that photograph. I despise being photographed. I wonder if this is why? I wonder if it’s because what I see now is nothing more interesting than lost youth and the burden of responsibilities.

I’m a wanderer - in body and in spirit. Tolkien said, “Not all who wander are lost” and I’ve always considered that my Life’s Explanation. I suppose there is some truth to the idea that I’m a “runner,” but only because I believe in the importance of knowing when the purpose of your circumstance is complete.

I am not unhappy. So much of my life is spot on. I am listless. I am tired. I am ready for something to change…

“Be as you are, as you see, as I am, I am. Be as you are, as you see, as I am, I am.

Do you think you might improve me, trying to take control?
Watching every little thing I do just like a bleeding movie, just like a leading role?
This ain't me and I don't believe that's you.

Be as you are, as you see, as I am, I am. Be as you are, as you see, as I am, I am.

First you make believe, I believe the things that you make believe
and I'm bound to let you down.
Then it's I who have been deceiving, purposely misleading,
and all along you believed in me.

So we circle around one another playing a guessing game, strangers at this masquerade.
Pretending to know each other, we strain to catch a name
and never see the mistakes we must have made.” ~ James Taylor

Bitter? Party of One?

It occurs to me that some of you, my dear friends, are undoubtedly beginning to wonder where your little puddle of misery has gone… the one who crafts these missives… these paragraphs filled with caustic sarcasm. YOUR FRIEND!

Well, I’m not certain of this, so do not start hounding me over every off-color remark, but it’s possible she may not return. The Weeks of the Missing Mia have had a profound impact on my perspective.

Hark! What was that? The sound of people clicking off this page? Who could blame? It’s maudlin and saccharine and all the things I ridicule. Stress or grief can sometimes be an unpleasant mirror. Personally, I shut up, shut down, shut out. Then I very attractively begin to silently accuse, blame, and otherwise project my own bent interpretation of the wrong in progress, in a misguided effort to protect myself or someone else; taking the bullet, if you’ll allow me that dramatic turn of phrase.

As much fodder as my general bitterness provided for conversation and essay – at the end of the day – “words that are bitter make a girl age quicker.” Not being of the “do as I say” ilk and frightened of being construed as such, I’ve embarked on yet another list. For this one I’ve promised to record an entry in every day (ha!). The idea is to write down 10 positive things that happen to me or around me.

Day 1: Five entries.
Day 2: Four entries.
Today is Day 3… apparently I need more practice living outside of my own head because it’s early afternoon and so far, I got nothin’! I just spent the last few minutes standing, sipping my coffee, and staring at this page. I was starting to get worried about the fact that I’m having so much trouble with this new list idea. It occurred to me that perhaps if I enjoyed a cigarette, it would clear the neuro-pathways and I could better process this imaginary issue. Unfortunately, I’ve dedicated myself to practicing discipline lately, so I’m back. Sadly, retelling the last few minutes is all I came up with…

Perhaps your Bitter Friend isn’t completely gone after all… That makes me a little more comfortable, really. My best work comes from that dark place – why am I trying to banish it? Yeah… yeah, this is good. I like this idea.