The previous post was post number 1,000. This is post 1,001. Wow.
I’m writing this to tell you I am taking myself less seriously. Since less is more, I am taking myself more seriously as well.
If you would like to join me, I would like the company. We can take ourselves more or less seriously together or be seriously less or more.
Did I tell you my resolution for 2010? My resolution contains two words.
Why is she talking about New Year’s resolutions in March? For Pete’s sake, haven’t we forgotten those by now? Can’t we talk about painting our skin green for St. Patrick’s Day?
Those two words follow me like devoted dogs. Of course, I am allergic to dogs. Dogs make me sneeze. Perhaps, the two words are more like devoted apples. I like apples. They stay put and never pee on the carpet. The two words this year: Quit Everything. Last year’s was: Less Sh..Stuff.
Yesterday, I decided it was easier on my mind to believe in magic. This was after I decided to quit my addiction to making sense 100% of the time. Making sense 100% of the time keeps me from being creative. Yes, I believe in magic — and miracles. Magic is how my husband leaves a backpack in a car, which makes us drive all over the state of Florida, which makes us end up in a restaurant in a town where we should not have been, which makes me run into someone I have not seen in 20 years. That is the magic I mean.
Is that crazy? Call in the guys in white coats, please. I will serve them white cookies with chocolate chips and chocolate chops.
Just when I think I’m original, I learn I’m not. A guy named Dean blogs on quitting. Dean Dwyer quit a lot: jobs, cars, coffee.
I’ve quit worrying and long commutes.
I quit to make space.
Once I started carving out space, I had to keep going. Quitting may be addictive. I can take no responsibility for the magic that happens once you quit.
At a dinner the other night, several people asked me how I find time to do all that I do. At a wedding last weekend, people asked me the same question. After a bit, I found myself not telling people much about myself at the wedding reception. I said I was a poet and left […]