Memento Mori: January 2021
Far too often we get caught up in the daily grind and don’t pause enough to stop and smell the roses. Whether those are literal or figurative, it’s a necessary part of life. Especially if we’re down to appreciate life as it’s happening. Committing to a monthly life recap has started reinforcing my decision to rewire this aging brain to operate more intentionally. This commitment dictates that I look back at least once a month, versus waiting until the end of the year. I’m chronicling as I go. I read each prior month before I write the next one. Just as a personal check in… also another way to hold myself accountable. I’m three months into this memento mori but one month into 2021.
2020 is definitely bleeding into 2021 and yeah… it STILL fucking sucks. It sucks that we’re using our amazing fucking brains to figure out even more excuses to be douchebags. I spare no insults when it comes to this pandemic and racism. For why? Some of us spend pretty much all our lives screaming out about injustices and wanting people to take notice, be accountable, and course correct. Then there’s this freakish outbreak and we dial down our screaming out because it conflicts with our desire to go sit in restaurants and be served. It conflicts with our wanderlust to travel all over the world and even within our own country. This fiendish plague forces us to adjust how we spend our money but not to be in a place to save more.
It’s literally all we seem to be able to talk about… even when we don’t to. There’s been a lot of escapism on our behalf. Some healthy and a ton of not-so-healthy decisions. I’ve watched more television in the last year than I’ve probably watched in all my life or at least that’s what it feels like. I’ve also read a lot more too. I’ve been forced to sit the fuck down and be still; partially from the pandemic but also from having two chronic illnesses and ½ my body losing 60–70% mobility from falling twice. All the money I’d saved up that was growing me and the kiddo’s house fund? DEPLETED. Thank you, COVID-19. The flip side to that is that the kiddo has no idea what real struggling looks like. She’s still had her necessities attended to, along with most of her comforts. Aside from not being able to physically touch her friends, I’ve done the best any fully present single parent can to provide what their little human needs and wants.
I am doing more of the things I want to do and less of what I don’t. I’m still putting it out into the universe to assist with the shift away from my professional monotony and into what creatively fulfills me. I’m open to it being manifested in ways I hadn’t imagined. The unknown doesn’t inspire fear, but it does cause a heightened sense of excitement because my childlike curiosity is like WHAT’S HAPPENING NEXT!? I WANNA KNOW NOW! NOW! NOW!!! Even as I work towards more of what I want, I have to acknowledge that the thing I’ve poured most of my heart, soul, blood, sweat and tears into has been: PARENTING. Here’s another moment of transparency: I don’t even love parenting.
We’re often fed the belief that we MUST infuse all our time and energy in the things we love the most and THAT is what will make use happy. I mean, I guess. I love the kiddo more than everything but myself. It sounds off when you say it that way but seriously, take a pause from trying to sound right and admit it… loving yourself better allows you to love everyone else better too. So, that relationship with myself? I make it worthwhile so I can love the #2 in my life… the kiddo. Anyway, parenting be trash a lot of days because it FEELS like it’s mostly about someone else. HOWEVER, it isn’t. It’s about me AND her. She’s one of my favorite people and 100% worth the time I choose to invest in her and…PARENTING. So, fuck it. We here and pushing through!
Seriously though, the last 12 months have made me a better parent in ways I could have never imagined. This last year has also contributed to me being a better writer. Granted, you might be reading this and noticing incorrect grammar. I see it. I don’t care because I’m writing this in my speaking voice. I don’t speak grammatically correct 24/7. It’s okay. If you’ve read this far, what I’m saying is obviously more important than Ebonics and dangling prepositions. When you commit to being intentional with your thoughts, words and actions, you somehow become better at everything that’s important to you. So, while writing sometimes seemed to take a backseat to everything else, when I did get an opportunity to do it, I didn’t waste any time writing what previously used to feel like bullshit.
I been writing shit that matters even though I haven’t been sharing. What you’re reading right now IS part of what I choose to share while I work on the resume filler. January has reinforced so many things I committed to back in 2009 when I decided to be a parent for the rest of my life. There hasn’t been a time when the kiddo hasn’t needed me, and I don’t think that time will ever come. HOW she needs me is what changes as she gets older. As she moves more into her independence, I gain more of mine back. That gives me more room to think and do what else is important to me other than parenting. You guessed it… writing.
January was a time of letting the emotions settle around how to let go of what doesn’t serve my life commitments. As I go into February, I look forward to more air being cleared for the path of destiny I chose a while ago. I also look forward to seeing my daughter’s growth in what’s important to her. It aint been no crystal stair. There’s been a plethora of tacks, splinters, torn up boards and bare floors. But we keep a-climbin’ on, reachin’ landin’s, turnin’ corners and sometimes goin’ in the dark, where there aint been no light. Shout out to Langston Hughes. He knew that sometimes the routes we needed to take to our personal utopias would be rough. Sometimes they’re ugly, plain ol’ dirt paths. To that I say…
I’se still goin’, honey.
I’se still climbin’.
(Originally published on February 7, 2021 via Medium)
