Wednesday, December 10, 2014

TK 10: Letter to a Kick-Ass B*tch

I just can't come up with anything for day ten of Think Kit -- to share a strange story -- even though I could cherry pick from the month of fuckery that was October and a particularly relentless Mercury Retrograde. So I'm dragging a lifeline out of the bin and writing a letter.

Prompt: Write an open letter to someone. Anyone... even yourself!

Me it is.

---

Dear Self,

Oh girl.

It's going to work out. It really is.

I know you're heartbroken today because you miss Melissa and because the seasonal darkness has begun to weigh on you heavily. I don't know what it is about the turning of the wheel that makes you forget every year that winter days are a baffling combination of short and oppressive, but here we are again. You're looking out the window at 5:30 p.m. and wondering when you missed the sunset and you still have the whole evening to get through.

That old stereo you need to get rid of will find its way to a new home.

You'll eventually figure out how to get the lid off that jar of homemade jam.

When you clean out that closet you've nearly forgotten about, you might even find that shoe you've been looking for since Jesus was a toddler.

You'll figure out how to write a kick-ass Kickstarter proposal so your greeting card line can come to life.

You'll make it to California -- San Diego, even! -- for a visit or forever.

It's going to take some work and I know that makes part of you seize up. It's easy to get overwhelmed these days. But I know you've really been working on eliminating phrases like "I just need to..." from your lexicon because if you just needed to do anything, it would get done lickety split.

There's a lot to do. There's a lot to think about. There's a lot of vague up in here, but we've been pretty brave this week with our words, so let's keep some stuff to ourselves for a couple days, okay?

Tomorrow you're going to see an old friend and enjoy some coffee. That will be nice. Maybe you can even come home and nap afterwards. Maybe you can work on some of those homemade Christmas presents you have in mind. Maybe you can even just sit outside for a few minutes in the freezy breeze and just feel something for a minute besides the endless pacing of your brain hamster. Damn thing has been slamming shots of espresso and really wants to talk to you about his new business venture that is definitely not a pyramid scheme.

Don't worry about that girl who's gotten under your skin. Don't dwell on the memory of that guy who didn't treat you so well. You can't change her, you can't change him, and running them over is not nice. It might also damage your car. And it's illegal. Minor point.

Miss the people who have passed away. Let yourself cry. Remember the feel of Grandpa's whiskers against your cheek when you hugged hello. Remember Grandma's soft hands and her letters that began with Tuesday morning or Saturday afternoon. Know that it doesn't matter how long they've been gone; there is no statute of limitations on grief.

Continue reaching out to your friends for conversation and support. They're living through their own struggles and might like to hear from someone who cares. Offer a hug, a phone call, or a dirty joke. Never forget how much you like to make people laugh.

Keep doing what you're doing. You know there will be no interesting story to tell in a few years (to Oprah when she interviews you, of course) if there hasn't been some adversity to overcome.

There's a lot to deal with, but get started. You know very well that when you move energy out, new energy rushes in and it's always something good. Getting rid of that stereo isn't going to get Ms. Winfrey on the phone, but it might just be a sturdy link in a chain of events that leads to something pretty spectacular. More writing opportunities, maybe. Becoming a really popular vendor on Etsy. Buying a house in the mountains in Santa Fe.

I'm giving you the squishy bear hug you like to give others. You've got this. Breathe and whisper your mama's mantra: This too shall pass. And then get out there and start kicking some booty.

Love,

Me

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