September 4, 2016


There are days you wake up and it is all about the memory. The smell  of some cherished bit of who you are superimposed over the memory of who you once were.

We can visit our memories, sit in a theater and watch a treasured bit of where our personality emerged from, but it isn’t meant to be the same, which is good, because it rarely is. This experience is about merging two moments together. Connecting who we didn’t know we were going to be, with the hopeful soul that wanted something, but didn’t know what it was until that moment came. The one that changed everything about how we thought of ourselves.

I know we are supposed to be humble in this world, but I am not ashamed of this one fact of myself (I just need to admit it without blushing) this truth that I am in love with the person I chose to be when I saw that movie for the very first time.

I look back and remember the person I was at 10 and I am ecstatic to be her now, she chose to dream. Chose to believe her own whispers, instead of the ones whispered at her. The not nice ones that have damaging voices. You know the ones I mean, people who hurt and say hurtful things, some of them coming from mouths you never expected.

I chose me. I chose to just laugh. To feel joy and worry about living up to someone else’s image later. I was an odd child. I am so fucking glad I let that be ok with me. That I secretly regarded her as a warrior. Someone I would be regardless of if others understood or approved. I wanted to be happy. I decided happy was just following my path without looking to see if anyone else approved of it.

There were helpers along the way. Showing me that I am not alone in this odd belief in dreaming. Jim Henson. Shel Silverstein. Robin Williams. Jim Carey. Keanu Reeves. These are my heroes.

People who followed their path, even if they didn’t quite know how to explain that path to anyone. Creativity is my favorite thing in this entire world. The making of something that never existed before, but suddenly, with blood, sweat, and tears began to breathe on its own.

I am a poet, and maybe my corner of this world is small, but it is mine. I am soo proud to be me.I am not the type to get all puffed up and pretentious and feel a bit like a dweeb saying all this. It isn’t so much that I think I am special or even unique in the way that I am, it is more simply that I am incredibly grateful to be able to try and be something more. I am grateful to the bottom of my very soul, that I got to be this person that I am right.this.moment. That I am a dreamer. What a wonderful thing to let yourself be!

Which is why, I went to the movies today, to see The Neverending Story. It was the beginning of me (1984). The moment I chose to be whomever my heart wanted  Because my heart is soo glad to be here alive in this world. Soo glad that I was/am brave enough to share what I dream about with other people.

 

 

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