You could pretend to be someone you're not, but I've really been enjoying being being me.
I love this me, I am doing things I only use to dream of and I'm getting to know myself.
I'm alive. And better yet, I'm grateful to be alive. And better than that I'm excited to be alive. And better than that, I know how quickly things can turn around, and I'm grateful and excited for that. Thank you God.
There are times even in the midst of the muck and the mess that joy can sneak up on you and fill you up and crowd up all your eternal space. There were times, numerous times, I was in my kitchen singing my heart out, dancing in Tom Cruise fashion stomping my feet, sliding my sock feet across my dusty wood floors. Screaming my heart out, collapsing only after I've listened to the song on repeat more times than it takes to memorize all the lyrics.
There was this moment, during an M83 concert when the lead singer dropped to his knees on stage in gratitude... I'd never witnessed anything like that before, and he asked to turn the stage lights onto the packed audience and fell to his knees and thanked us. I felt a surge of massive energy as he did this and my fingers tingled and I wondered how large of an impact one could make with that kind of gratitude.
I figured it was pretty huge.
There was this time when I went camping by myself, and I woke up in the middle of the night because I was so fucking cold I couldn't sleep. And so I went down to the beach and watched the full moon rise over the dunes and I rolled around in the sand and sang like an idiot. I howled at the moon. I barked, I rolled, I played. I'm sure I screamed "fuck me" a lot and laughed at myself. I wasn't even drunk.
I heard God say, be master of moment.
As the waves kept coming towards me on the beach. I heard: Be master of moment. This moment. This moment. This moment.
There was this other time, I found myself uncomfortable amongst a group of strangers. Someone was making a run to the grocery store and I asked if I could hop in the car just so I could get away. I remember the driver saying, don't judge me as he plugged in his ipod. And then "Way down yonder in the chattahoochie" started blaring from the car speakers, and I thought to myself, its a message from home. Thank you God.
On the way back from the grocery store, we listened to Tom Petty, Even losers get lucky sometimes......
We rolled down the windows in the car and stuck our heads out the window like dogs do and sang the words.
I wondered if I could get high from doing this, like dogs do.
And I knew, it couldn't have been that easy to forget about me. Even the losers keep a little bit of pride. They get lucky sometimes.