Since joining government, I’ve had some of the silliest things said to me—and in all seriousness too.
Like—“From now on, you can’t write your usual way—too honest, too open. Too raw.” “No more bad words for you online.” “You’ll need to go high from now on.” “You can’t write about the imperfections of your family.” (so what else am I gonna write about? hahaha) “No more bikini pics.” “You can’t show off your tattoo.” “Is there some way you can have your tattoo taken out?” (I have my mother’s name inked on my skin, you ninny. Do you even know what that means? Sheesh. Sam pipol.)
I only have one thing to say to all that well-intentioned shat: HELL, NO.
Alternating with, “You’re fucking kidding me, arentcha?”
The world will press down on you as it tries to press down on me now—every single moment of your life—and it will try to bend you and squish you and squash you into a shape of their liking.
And this will include your church, your government, your partner, your family, your friends even. Etc, etc.
The better to fit you into that box of their choosing—a box marked for instance, “Doctor”, “Mother”, “Wife”, “Husband” “Public Servant”. And it will demand that you stay in that box. No matter how small it is –because there in that box, with your knees all bent and you curled up in a tight ball, you will not cause trouble.
And what the hell are you in this world for but to cause trouble?!!
This sick, sad world.
To jolt the rotten status quo to its very foundations. To say, “Oh yeah, SAYS WHO?” and get a great answer or else you pack up. To fight for those who have no fight left in them. To shake your fist at the injustice, the cruelty, the assholery around you.
To climb mountains when your lola would rather you stay put. To go diving when your mother would rather you drive her around. To kiss passionately the beloved when the priest prefer you do it in the Catholic prescribed way (no laway. Haha..)
And what else are you on earth for but to have heaven in the here and now. For me, not some distant promised land that may or may not happen. But here, where I can kiss my beloveds, embrace them tight and laugh with them and then to sometimes nap in their arms and wake up in the middle of the night still enclosed in those arms and to sniff them and to hear them say how their day went.
And here is where I cry soft tears with them and to rage against a system that lulls us to sleep so we don’t see that we jump into the deaths of small, phony lives we choose to live –when deep inside, in the quiet of the night, we know we’re meant to spread our wings, to run to the end of the cliff and to soar—HIGH!
You asking me to stay in the box marked “Public Servant” and to be somebody other than it is who I am –well, it’s never happening.
It’s taken me a whole lifetime to find the treasure I see in the mirror—highly imperfect, irreverent, flawed, wounded but someone I embrace like no other in my life. I have embraced—with great love and passion—a lot of people in my life, but FINALLY, I embrace myself best.
I am with Carl Jung when he says, “The privilege of a lifetime is to be who you truly are.”
And my prayer for you: may you find yourself and may this search for self be fearless and unstinting—with you giving the best of yourself in this search (This involves books, dearies, IMO. The best minds in the world.) And may you go out into the world and have the outrageous fun I think we’re all meant to have –whatever that may mean to you.
Heyyyyy GIMME ONE!!
Go out there and cause trouble.