Quick Note in Mental Masturbation in Montréal: Confessions from the Boulevard

I'm trying to see myself a little more fairly - trying to check the accuracy of my thoughts. Weigh both options. Build up or tear down? There are TWO to choose from!

Try to choose wisely. Use your wise mind, your higher self, your more evolved intelligent big-ass cerebral cortex and make a choice that would take its own well-being and common welfare into account - with benevolence and compassion and kindness.

All that - assuming it's NOT organic - that my big-ass cerebral cortex is, in fact, different than the standard (according to current neuroscience and the incredible technology that proves it).

AND IF SO... I don't really choose any of it. So, it's not just a character flaw - like self-absorption or being neurotic and needy. It's my brain. So, the implied choice is not really mine to make. Can't "control" cancer or AIDS with mere positive thinking.

Plus - back up a bit....

"... my big-ass cerebral cortex is, in fact, different than the standard (according to current neuroscience..."

Different than the standard. I like that. Different is good!

I'm only here for a very limited time - in this particular form of molecules. Totally random and what're the odds?

So, I'm trying really hard - crayzeebrainz an' all - to let shit go. Do you know how much shit I've been dragging behind me in this dufflebag?

Some of it's not even MINE.

No wonder I'm exhausted. I've been a pack-mule instead of a person. I've been singing this sad-sister act for way too long. Even if my brain IS a junk-drawer, I'm not so blind as to NOT see the beauty, too. I think this is why I moved to Montreal. I needed to be alone to do this and not focused on other people - Peter, Sean, Jake, Drew, siblings, my mom, friends. I finally had LOTS of time on my hands - ME TIME. No interruptions, no obligations, no answering to anyone, no commitments.

It's the perfect opportunity to VICIOUSLY CONFRONT YOURSELF!!!

I mean... gently and with great benevolence and compassion and kindness, direct your thoughts to the stuff that simply won't let you enjoy much of ... anything, really.

This makes me sad. We are but a blip - not here long enough to figure out even half of it - so, doesn't it seem a waste of precious-precious time being so fucking miserable that you regularly consider suicide?

I still get to decide.

The wise mind - full of holes or not, still comes up with some pretty spectacularly creative big ideas and actions.

Plus, I can't kill myself.

Too many people love me.

My kids have been anchors - the weigh-you-down-and-drown-you kind but ALSO, the dig-in-and-stay-here kind. It's hard work raising other human beings to be authentic people and not just the next-generation-of-fuck-ups.

So, life.

I've known and nurtured fear and pain and sadness and anger.

BUT ALSO - I've known and nurtured laughter, awe and reverence for nature (the trees! the water! the stars! dazzling!), deep connections with Peter, Sean, Jake, Drew and my friends-that-were(are)-my-REAL-family, music/art/words/dancing, fun, goodness, honesty, integrity, loyalty and some seeeeeeeriously satisfying fucking.

The transformation continues... and here I was, thinking I could put my goddamned feet up in my 40s.

Still so much to learn about forgiveness and allowing joy and sitting with vulnerability and making friends with the constant not-knowing and trusting myself and being truly fear-less and letting the hard shell crack so the light can get in.

Practice: on-going, good and bad, one day at a time.

Good enough.

It's okay.

Peter (genuine and earnest): "Everything's fine, Suzy. It REALLY is."