Monday, May 30, 2011

Nervous

There's a few things that make me nervous that I avoid. 1) Having my picture taken 2) Going to concerts or being around live music at all 3)The sound that my bones make when my back is being adjusted.

I'm not one of those free and easy people that enjoys any of those things.

However, it's coming to my attention that I'm only going to live once.

Someone gave me some second hand advice from their mother the other day, and it was as follows:
"If something feels right, and you want to do it, and it's not hurting anyone else, you should do it. Chances are that you won't want to do it at a another time or that it won't feel right later."

I'm always saying (if I am saying but I don't really mention this to people very often at all so there's really not a lot of saying) that I avoid concerts due to a bad experience at the Lee Greenwood concert at the Brown County Fair in the 1980's. My dad was the only person who didn't stand up during the "I'm proud to be an American" number, and that was pretty embarrassing.

But I don't really think that is the root of the problem. I think I just like tracing certain feelings to certain moments so that it all lines up correctly in case someone needs to write a novel about it ever. (Sort of like how I purposefully got married on my ex-boyfriend's birthday because I thought it would be a good way to symbolically end one thing and move onto another, and it's a good thing my husband doesn't read this blog because that is the kind of weirdness that might make him wonder what the hell he was thinking by marrying me at all.)

I think it (live music) just makes me nervous. I'm too hesitant to drop the cerebral thing and just enjoy it. I've had too many people look at me askance when I've clapped out of rhythm or moved my hips out of rhythm or whatever, and my fatal flaw is that I like to be liked so anything, even the smallest look can freak me out.

But that's it. That's it for feeling nervous.

It doesn't really matter if anyone likes me or not or approves of my clapping rhythms or not (plenty of people do like me but you can chase external validation for centuries and you'll still be empty).

The point (I'm floundering for clarity, it seems) is that I could die tomorrow so in the meantime, I'm going to ask that guy to photograph me, I'm going to go hear music when I can, and well, I'm not too worried about number 3 so we'll leave it at the first two for now.

It is time to get out the metaphorical mirror and look at my metaphorical vagina.  

And now, with my new found commitment to mental freedom, it is time to face this day so farewell.

3 comments:

  1. Brad wouldn't stand up for "I'm Glad to be an American"? No wonder we became such good friends--two peas in a contrary pod. It so happens that in the mid-90s my friend Sondra and I were the only (and I mean only) people who didn't give a raucous standing ovation to Oliver North after he finished speaking to well over 100 people at a crime lab directors' symposium banquet. Good times ...

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  2. I just found your blog through nchs and I am absolutely over the moon about it. Thanks for contributing to my morning delinquency! My unfed children say "hi."

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  3. That's the nicest and funniest thing I've heard all day. Thanks!

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