for as hap-hazard and less-than-hot-mess my life ebbs in and out of being, at one point, there really was an element of control and organization leeched onto the chaos. maybe it was transparent, or maybe it was hidden, but i assure you it was there. if it wasn't in my laundry method, or my color-coded newborn prop collection, it was at least in my bank account or my book collection. it existed somewhere, at all times, whether it transported or morphed itself, it never bothered me, so long as it was there.
and then one day, a sailor-mouthed, brilliantly crazy, newborn photographer was mentoring me and as i told her what i was doing she looked right at me and said "you can't do that." after a slew of my methods, processes, mantra and organization, my growth in short period of time from scary to more than acceptable, i began to talk about this one area of my life where i thought i was being sneaky and working smarter and not harder, but she looked at me and with a very familiar bluntness said "see, you can't do that."
that thing she said i can't do just happened to be my morphed version of control of my life for the last several months. it was quite possibly the only thing that i could look at or do that made me feel like the chaos has some sort of anchor. or that there was something in the grand, thrown up, scheme of things that said "at least i have _______ going for me." so in that very moment, with a stranger, being further than closer to my home, i stared at her blankly as i rummaged through my barney bag of smooth things to say back to her. and she has my kind of people brain and could quickly sense my ill-preparedness and/or the weight of her insight to my specific life. in that moment, my last anchored, microscopic unit of control popped off of my life like a too-tight-shirt-button, and there i sat.
word for word, i'm mostly screwed after that part because i kept honing into what else she was saying with a reference point of the above.
you see, above anything else in the world, i am a girl with a good heart, good intentions, and a work ethic to go after what i want. i set a high bar for myself. like so super high that if anyone else tried to set it for me, i would hate them so hard. i mean so hard. but instead, that person is me. and the way we deal with ourselves is something that is so beautiful and so wrong and so rude of us. so when i mixed all of that with someone who happens to think about things in an eerily similar manner, i actually listen.
mom, are you out there? you'll love this.
i listened to her. her words are on repeat in my head as i take a moment or 4892734029834 to manage a mess that has been mostly created by me.
to allow life to happen to you is a detriment. if you haven't met me, you should know that i usually go against the grain rather than with it. and while never picky, i did, at one point, have my particulars. i stood for so much. and i've spent the last disgustingly long period of time (at least for me) allowing my life to happen to me more than i am happening to it. me reacting is probably the least favorite version of myself to date, and me acting... well it's scary and ugly, and so hard, but it's me.
so on this one special day, i drove home for six hours by my lonesome and thought so much about the life that i have been creating for myself by reacting to things that happen rather than making things happen. if you know me, you know that is like soooooooooo not me.
i'm not sure exactly what she said, but what i heard was this: if you are this amazing and magical and life-changing and world-turning-upside-because-i-met-you kind of person, then you have to do things that match that.
and slowly, but surely, my particulars are making their way out of hibernation.
they tag-teamed my laundry method, though, so just a heads up.