What the future holds
I usually hate shit like this. A friend emailed me an assignment of sorts from some internet person in SF. The assignment was to write a letter to the future, as if you knew what was going to happen entitled: "What I did during the summer of 2005 that made me a better, smarter, happier person"
So you write it and then send it to this woman and then in Sept she sends it back. "Like magic" she writes in her odd mass email. So I get an itch and write one up the other night. It's not poetry, but it's hopeful and honestly, it felt pretty good to do it. Without a thought I mailed a clip of my life to some stranger yesterday. Walked out to the road and pulled the little red flag up. I want to say something about being brave and exposing myself, but considering this blog I guess that would be nothing short of super silly, as Cai would say. Here it is:
What I did during the summer of 2005 that made me a better, smarter, happier person
In the summer of 2005 I loved my children more than ever, but I also set them lose on the world. I watched and I worried, but more than that I relished their lives and the amazing people they are. I forgave myself for not being the best mother possible my baby’s first year and worked even harder to become the mother that I wish to be. I found a way to give his older brother what he needs, to the best of my ability without losing myself entirely.
In the summer of 2005 I made a greater effort to love my husband with abandon. I set aside some of the old hurt and tried to focus on the life we have made, its goodness and bounty. I took more than a little time to admire the amazing, loyal, good person he is and told him so.
In the summer of 2005 I finished learning about who my father is and was. I forgave my mother just a little bit and tried to be more generous to her. In the summer of 2005 I looked on my mother with new eyes each time and saw that she is so injured and lost that great compassion was the only reasonable option.
In the summer of 2005 I taught my older boy how to make a blackberry cobbler after teaching him where to find the sweetest berries and how to avoid the thorns. I taught him to do this without gloves, barehanded. I spent days floating down rivers living in the moment. I learned the names of five native birds in our woods and ate apples off the tree till I was sick. I spent more time loving my life and letting go of my ghosts. I made a great effort to stop suffocating myself with the ‘what if’s’ I hold so dear.
In the summer of 2005 I made an effort to be kind to strangers and with each gesture I remembered my grandmother and all the kindness she bestowed on the world. While I did not brag about this kindness, I made sure my boys witnessed these gestures and hoped they were taking in what goodness can do.
In the summer of 2005 I ate more vegetables than I ever have in my life, I walked more, jumped more and stretched more.
In the summer of 2005 I wrote my brains out. I unleashed all the tacky, shameful, gorgeous, sticky-sweet parts of myself I could muster and I relished in the letting go, in the history-making, in the pure self-indulgence that is being a writer.
So you write it and then send it to this woman and then in Sept she sends it back. "Like magic" she writes in her odd mass email. So I get an itch and write one up the other night. It's not poetry, but it's hopeful and honestly, it felt pretty good to do it. Without a thought I mailed a clip of my life to some stranger yesterday. Walked out to the road and pulled the little red flag up. I want to say something about being brave and exposing myself, but considering this blog I guess that would be nothing short of super silly, as Cai would say. Here it is:
What I did during the summer of 2005 that made me a better, smarter, happier person
In the summer of 2005 I loved my children more than ever, but I also set them lose on the world. I watched and I worried, but more than that I relished their lives and the amazing people they are. I forgave myself for not being the best mother possible my baby’s first year and worked even harder to become the mother that I wish to be. I found a way to give his older brother what he needs, to the best of my ability without losing myself entirely.
In the summer of 2005 I made a greater effort to love my husband with abandon. I set aside some of the old hurt and tried to focus on the life we have made, its goodness and bounty. I took more than a little time to admire the amazing, loyal, good person he is and told him so.
In the summer of 2005 I finished learning about who my father is and was. I forgave my mother just a little bit and tried to be more generous to her. In the summer of 2005 I looked on my mother with new eyes each time and saw that she is so injured and lost that great compassion was the only reasonable option.
In the summer of 2005 I taught my older boy how to make a blackberry cobbler after teaching him where to find the sweetest berries and how to avoid the thorns. I taught him to do this without gloves, barehanded. I spent days floating down rivers living in the moment. I learned the names of five native birds in our woods and ate apples off the tree till I was sick. I spent more time loving my life and letting go of my ghosts. I made a great effort to stop suffocating myself with the ‘what if’s’ I hold so dear.
In the summer of 2005 I made an effort to be kind to strangers and with each gesture I remembered my grandmother and all the kindness she bestowed on the world. While I did not brag about this kindness, I made sure my boys witnessed these gestures and hoped they were taking in what goodness can do.
In the summer of 2005 I ate more vegetables than I ever have in my life, I walked more, jumped more and stretched more.
In the summer of 2005 I wrote my brains out. I unleashed all the tacky, shameful, gorgeous, sticky-sweet parts of myself I could muster and I relished in the letting go, in the history-making, in the pure self-indulgence that is being a writer.
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