Thursday, June 13, 2013

It's Time To Change...



You have no idea how long I have been waiting to write this! An eternity, a long, lovely time since I wore flowy retro hippie skirts or baggy cut-off denim overalls with one strap hanging loose and wrists full of hemp bracelets while sitting around the hacky sack circle. No, I’m not talking about the 60’s, I’m speaking of that twilight time between 1988 and 1994 when formerly materialist Gen Xers decided to get all trippy, waxing poetic with peace or ankh signs hanging from ears and necks and the cloying scent of patchouli mixed with Chloe or Giorgio Red. It was like a small corner of MTV and Madison Avenue fell into an acid trip in which the crappy things in life just didn't matter anymore. And, life does some crappy things to you with “fashion” being one of the most cringe worthy at times but honestly, I enjoyed this time a lot because it brought me the closest to not giving a shit than I've ever been until right here, right now. If anyone gets that last reference and can message me with the correct answer I will mail you this:

Wham-O_Sack_In_Box
Well, not this one exactly but something like it that doesn't smell like  bong water....

Most people come to terms with their childhood sooner or later, the embarrassing pictures and stories but teenage years and early twenties are harder to grasp because we both loathe them and long for them in the same breath. Take them or leave them but either way they define us the most and write the story of who we really are with the sharpest clarity. It’s the ugly truth of angst that motivates people to reject or embrace the path they need to be on in life in order to succeed or fail; this is everyone’s turning point. Go or stay, live or die, crash and burn or pull up and soar! These are the days (another reference there) in which we learn to bask in the glory of true impending freedom or we get stuck in the mud of confusion and woe is me gloom. When it’s time to change we know it but what if the costume you picked out and tried on isn't for a role you want to keep playing? The short answer is this: Take it off! There will always be someone waiting to pick it up so pass it along and search for your one true fit in this giant garage sale called Life.

Hanging out with dreamers, also called “losers” by those afraid to shed their own ill-chosen costumes of societal pigeonhole backlogging, became my wish back then and now, that desire is back. I like people who smile even when rain is pouring down and I adore those that brush off criticism like a mere crumb on their peasant blouse. No worries. Life ain't no big thing once you stop over thinking and just keep on rolling. Love one another and mind your own shit because stepping in others isn't cool man. Not cool at all. Is it naive to think I can get this back? I don’t think so and my conviction to change becomes that much stronger because the way I have been living so far has been nothing more than a means to an end…the ultimate end…like spinning over and over, unfulfilled, until my breath just stops. Who wants that?

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I want to love AND live, not just one or the other and in order to love the life I’m living I have to change because nothing is truly sustainable without adjustment and adaptation yet, so many are afraid of such a benign word like “change.” I’m not entirely sure why but can guess that it involves a fear of being honest about what they really want and admitting that certain career or educational paths just can’t lead them there. We all fear because that is what prompts us to take missteps and it’s also how we learn so embrace the dreams, the dreamers and their ability to let go and just live. Now, everything else will just fall into place once you pull the stick of rigid expectations out of your ass and then the real party can start. When life is hard, you have to change. Come on, let’s dance shall we? It’s my jam!


© 2012-2013 Laura A. Askew, All Rights Reserved

As a gentle reminder: People who steal the creative property of others deserve to be kicked in the tingly bits by a pissed off writer well versed in street fighting. In plain English: Don't steal my stuff!

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