The future is just a step away.
In 2008 I experienced a total mental breakdown. It was devastating. It was as if someone tripped on the electrical cord connecting my brain to power and yanked it from the wall. Everything shut down. Unsaved. Blackout. No surge protector.
Long-term memory was lost. Short term memory resembled swiss cheese. My brain was littered with divots like a county golf course frequented by 9-iron heavy amateurs. My vocabulary was blurry like a windshield streaked by aging wiper blades. My thoughts scattered like hooligans running from sirens.
My psychiatrist cautioned me: “The more you think, the more frequently you’ll reboot. Your brain is exhausted. It’s spending a great deal of energy defragmenting your life, trying to bring disparate pieces together for cohesion. Let it be. Stop trying so hard. Stop pushing it. You’ve been given a tremendous gift; a do-over; a mulligan.”
This post, Becoming not Became is my title post. A title post has a high degree of significance. It’s that post which marks a clean break from one way of being in life to another. And today, thanks wholly to close friends and their brutal honesty, I can confidently say that I have stepped into my own future.
My past is in my past. I don’t bring my past with me into my present. I used to, I used to carry the disappointments and frustrations of my “yesterdays” into my “today’s.” Not any longer. Ever since my spiritual transformation, it is virtually impossible for me to even remember yesterday. I don’t remember conversations, or arguments, or bedspeak. I don’t bring forward heartache. And, I suppose, I don’t allow joy or happiness or laughter to tag along either.
Each day that I awaken is a new day, unmoored from the dock of the past. It’s only anger or sadness that burdens me. Their expression is seen by tears. Remember, we only cry for the past, never for the future.
I decided today that I would get my shit together. I would return to Chicago, rent a great apartment, furnish it the way I want, get my knee replaced, get my affairs in order, and then, and only then, maybe I’ll fly to Buenos Aires for the winter (it’s summer then).
I’ve also decided to stop pursuing men in some desperate hope that they fill the void created when Nick I split up. It’s simply not fair to either of us. My Parisian pointed that out to me today.
So, today is my becoming, not became day.
I can either mourn what I Became or celebrate what I’m Becoming!
Let the party begin!