Don't Wait Till March
Read MoreI use to dance. It was my life. It was all I knew.
I loved ballet class.
Sweating, working hard, the feeling of accomplishment.
In class I didn’t have to think of anything else.
I was told what to do and I did it.
Easy.
Bun Head mentality.
Don’t think, just do.
Pointe your toes, do the laundry, pay the bills, port de bras back,
feed the kids, grande jeté, smile.
So comfortable. So confining.
It does what needs to be done.
And does it well.
I’m exhausted with the monotony of putting one foot in front of the other
Without a thought of how my feet actually feel.Incoming attack!
What to do! Where to go?
Summoned by a barrage of criticism
real or perceived
Brain Freeze emerges to paralyze the nervous system.
Complete Shutdown.
No decision can be made
No feeling can be had
No curiosity can roam
No engagement can be made.
There will be little memory of what truly happened
Convenient intellectual justification will be made
An overlay of story barricading shame from consciousness.
Protector of worthiness
Defender against humiliation
Always there to preserve some semblance of dignity.No regrets.
I call bullshit!
I regret things every day.
I regret that third glass of wine.
I regret blowing that career because I was too thin-skinned to deal with it.
I regret getting married.
I regret saying no to that party.
I regret saying yes to that party.
I regret yelling at my kid.
I regret selling my motorcycle.
I regret being a shitty friend.
I regret leaving New York City.
I regret not finishing college.
I regret losing that swim meet when I was 10 years old.
I regret every cigarette I’ve smoked
every mean thing I’ve said
every lie I’ve told.
So, sure, I’ve learned from my mistakes.
I still wish I didn’t have to live with them.