5.9.16 This Version of Myself


Believe it or not, life is built on little bits and pieces of memories, fragments of stories, and snippets of conversations that seem so important at the time, but that we fail to remember in our haste of everyday living. It is only when we are quiet with ourselves that we have the chance to let those precious fragments knit back together into things remembered and adored.

Sometimes I am afraid that my life is stuck on fast-forward. And I am dreadfully fearful of being one of the unfortunates who spend their aging years living their lives in retrospect. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to be that version of “her.” Because I know that the “she” version of me is meant for much more than, “What could have been.”

The child poet prodigy, Kioni Marshall once said, “For I have no things to give my passion to but what I am now made of.” It begs the question, “What am I made of?” And whatever it is … is it enough?

What I don’t want for myself is sometimes so much easier to answer than what I do. I don’t want a life that is practical. Practicality tends to override possibility and that should never be the case. There should always be room for what ifs … for let’s pretends, and happily ever-afters. Life should be color-filled and laden with daydreams that enrich our reality. But this kind of perception is only possible with time – time you dedicate to you.

So let today be your start. Plan a date with yourself and imagine all the grand catching up you have to do. Post and tell me all about it.

Where will you go?

What time of day will you venture out?

Will you surround yourself and get lost in people-watching? Or will you find a quiet, remote place to fill your senses?

What will you eat, now that you’ve given yourself enough time to taste it?

What will you see, now that you can really take it in?

What complex issues might you begin to sort through?

Will you take pictures? Or will you document your day in poetic bits of prose stretched in lazy cursive loops?

Will you let yourself smile just because it feels good to let go?

Will you hold on to this version of yourself that you’ve missed?

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