“When someone writes a Mommie Dearest memoir – where the narrator is presented as an innocent and the subject as a monster – the work fails because the situation remains static. For the drama to deepen, we must see the loneliness of the monster and the cunning of the innocent” – Vivian Gornick

This is tough.

Every day when I go to class I am nervous. I am nervous because I am not sure what my professor is going to ask of us that day.

What will we be writing? Will we be sharing? How much? Oh gosh. I don’t know why I did this.

And it is two-fold in this class: one writing, two, writing about our lives, ourselves. And with this – we are not Mommie Dearest. 

What is fun and I am in awe about – is reading my classmates’ stories. Their words hold beauty. And they are using words I do not even know. I don’t use these words. I should be using these words.

I had a sit down with my professor this last week. I left feeling as if I had a new purpose. He took my anxiety from high to low. His energy was so calming, in this space that what we are talking about and trying to figure out is not so calming.

When I am done with school, I am definitely going to teach some. I have said many times that writing is hard, but it doesn’t need to be. We make it a lot harder because we aren’t trusting in ourselves. We have our voices, we have just been shut down so many times our voices become small.  This saddens me, disheartens me.

You have such strength in that heart of yours. Your strength is you being you.

I said some of this to one of my classmates after reading her story. She said, “Thank you . . . I was really not sure how I felt when I wrote it.”

I am saying this at the same time that I am completely unraveling each week. What is my intension? My tone – I want my tone to be a voice that is searching and is curious. I don’t know anything. I am discovering along with the readers. I also want it to be one of calm and not of anger or malevolence.

I want to write things for face value; let the words be said. Let the words hold their space. There is a reckoning going on.

We are reading some very brave stories. It is that whole gumption thing.

My professor asks, “So you were a good kid?”

Yes, except that I ran away.

“Oh, why there you go.”

I nodded. Yes. I believe my mother sent me away fearing if she did not, I would have run away again.

One last note, I listened to a really great podcast with Rupaul. If you can, listen to this whole podcast. It is really good.

There is this snippet and he says, “There used to be bars that said “Cocktails and dancing.” Now it just says, “Cocktails.” There is no dancing.  “Dancing is our connection to the spirit, the source. We stopped dancing because it is our connection to the spirit, if we are connected to the spirit then we are connected to consciousness. We don’t want to be conscious. That is why the heroin, the opioids, OxyContin. That is why that’s here because we don’t want to be here right now. We need to be dancing.”

https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/michael-moore-4/rumble-with-michael-moore/e/67284646

In the spirit of dancing and Rupaul – dance every day if you can. Don’t “exercise.” It is too controlled. Turn up the music in your house and shake it. Dance. Move your body. Make it move.

My brother, my friend, Deb, and I used to have these dance parties all the time. They were the best. And whenever I visit, the music goes up.

Much love. Be well. Sleep well. And take care of you and you and you, and move.