i drank what?

meditationkicksass:

Day One Hundred and Forty Seven
Writing Barn, South Austin, TX
No, Danny didn’t uncut my hair
this is a picture from
back in July
I’ve been waiting for
the accompanying words
to come to me
I think I have them now
Many years ago
during an Academy Awards
acceptance speech
some director thanked his
family for raising him in poverty
and I just scoffed at that
I grew up poor
I wanted a lot
I don’t mean fancy stuff
I mean
food and firsthand clothes
which were in 
short supply
And then
yes 
I eventually came to 
understand the resourcefulness
and 
hard work ethic
that can spring from
growing up like that
so okay
I finally got what the guy was saying
though it would’ve been nice
sometimes
when I was little
to not be so hungry
for some very basic things
Ultimately though
what I was most starved for
was some attention
too many kids
not enough parents
and of the latter
one of them very
mentally ill
This is not a new topic
but I mention it again
for a reason
Last night
I had the great honor
and humbling privilege
of once again getting to give
a public reading
this time along with
the magnificent 
Catherine Berry
The basics of what I read
have been covered in this space
over the past several months
The short version is that
I have learned to look at
the story of my life
differently
and in a way where
I feel a whole lot better now
I worked really hard
putting the words down on the page
harder than I have 
in a long time
maybe the hardest I’ve ever worked
I’m non-theistic
and so
I don’t pray
but the night before the show
as I was drifting off to sleep
I had a conversation
out loud
with a dead friend of mine
Steve was one of the very first people
to spell out for me
that I was mis-seeing
the story of my life
In a sentence he explained to me
that what had happened
with my dad
was really fucked up
That was a big clue
though it would take another
twenty years or so
before I made notable healing progress
So I told Steve that
with the presentation of my show
in which I once again
examine that dad pain
I hoped that maybe 
really truly
I could put it away for good
Now I’m not sure if that
will be my reality
I imagine he’ll make a few
whack-a-mole cameos
in the future
but I am getting way closer
to shutting the door on
all that
once and for all
and as I get closer to
the door shutting
I get closer to being able to say something
I’ve thought about saying before
but the idea of it made me wince
hell— it still makes me squint a bit
See I sort of hate it when
I hear people say that
their greatest teacher was
the one who hurt them
the most
There’s still a little kid in me
who protests that
and wants a do over
a chance to just feel the love
even if it’s
at the expense of the lesson
but that’s not my reality
and so I am becoming 
one of those people who
is acknowledging that
my greatest teacher is the one
who hurt me the most
Here is one way
my father’s mental illness
has yielded positive results
I grew up so terrified
every single day of my life
until I took off at 18
(and I was still scared a lot
after that)
that I grew into a person who
wanted everyone around me
to feel safe
I did not always succeed at this
something my son 
could attest to
in fact I really 
fucked it up a lot
and put my own self
in harm’s path
over and over and over
and over and over and over
again
But time marched on
and I have found a way
to make my own space safe
and to
surround myself with other people
seeking safety
and together
we have put together this
super safe place
we call it
writing workshop
and in this space
we share our stories
it is so amazing
so healing
so incredible
to write it down
to read it out loud
to hear 
and
to be heard
soul balm
I love being part of
making safe space
I love that I got to
tell my story
AGAIN
last night
and that 
I got to be heard
and
I knew I was safe
I am so grateful for 
being listened to
and
I am so grateful for
being trusted 
to listen
I breathe in
and
I breathe out
and
I just say 
Thank you

This explains a lot of me.

meditationkicksass:

Day One Hundred and Forty Seven

Writing Barn, South Austin, TX

No, Danny didn’t uncut my hair

this is a picture from

back in July

I’ve been waiting for

the accompanying words

to come to me

I think I have them now

Many years ago

during an Academy Awards

acceptance speech

some director thanked his

family for raising him in poverty

and I just scoffed at that

I grew up poor

I wanted a lot

I don’t mean fancy stuff

I mean

food and firsthand clothes

which were in 

short supply

And then

yes 

I eventually came to 

understand the resourcefulness

and 

hard work ethic

that can spring from

growing up like that

so okay

I finally got what the guy was saying

though it would’ve been nice

sometimes

when I was little

to not be so hungry

for some very basic things

Ultimately though

what I was most starved for

was some attention

too many kids

not enough parents

and of the latter

one of them very

mentally ill

This is not a new topic

but I mention it again

for a reason

Last night

I had the great honor

and humbling privilege

of once again getting to give

a public reading

this time along with

the magnificent 

Catherine Berry

The basics of what I read

have been covered in this space

over the past several months

The short version is that

I have learned to look at

the story of my life

differently

and in a way where

I feel a whole lot better now

I worked really hard

putting the words down on the page

harder than I have 

in a long time

maybe the hardest I’ve ever worked

I’m non-theistic

and so

I don’t pray

but the night before the show

as I was drifting off to sleep

I had a conversation

out loud

with a dead friend of mine

Steve was one of the very first people

to spell out for me

that I was mis-seeing

the story of my life

In a sentence he explained to me

that what had happened

with my dad

was really fucked up

That was a big clue

though it would take another

twenty years or so

before I made notable healing progress

So I told Steve that

with the presentation of my show

in which I once again

examine that dad pain

I hoped that maybe 

really truly

I could put it away for good

Now I’m not sure if that

will be my reality

I imagine he’ll make a few

whack-a-mole cameos

in the future

but I am getting way closer

to shutting the door on

all that

once and for all

and as I get closer to

the door shutting

I get closer to being able to say something

I’ve thought about saying before

but the idea of it made me wince

hell— it still makes me squint a bit

See I sort of hate it when

I hear people say that

their greatest teacher was

the one who hurt them

the most

There’s still a little kid in me

who protests that

and wants a do over

a chance to just feel the love

even if it’s

at the expense of the lesson

but that’s not my reality

and so I am becoming 

one of those people who

is acknowledging that

my greatest teacher is the one

who hurt me the most

Here is one way

my father’s mental illness

has yielded positive results

I grew up so terrified

every single day of my life

until I took off at 18

(and I was still scared a lot

after that)

that I grew into a person who

wanted everyone around me

to feel safe

I did not always succeed at this

something my son 

could attest to

in fact I really 

fucked it up a lot

and put my own self

in harm’s path

over and over and over

and over and over and over

again

But time marched on

and I have found a way

to make my own space safe

and to

surround myself with other people

seeking safety

and together

we have put together this

super safe place

we call it

writing workshop

and in this space

we share our stories

it is so amazing

so healing

so incredible

to write it down

to read it out loud

to hear 

and

to be heard

soul balm

I love being part of

making safe space

I love that I got to

tell my story

AGAIN

last night

and that 

I got to be heard

and

I knew I was safe

I am so grateful for 

being listened to

and

I am so grateful for

being trusted 

to listen

I breathe in

and

I breathe out

and

I just say 

Thank you

This explains a lot of me.