Alternative titles for today’s post:
“The Huzzah! of Happiness”
“The Month of ‘May’-hem”
However, at the totally likely possibility of coming across like a pompous ass…I’m going to go with the original.
At the totally likely possibility of not giving a shit what other people think…I’m okay with that.
That is how much time has passed since the beginning of the unfolding of THE most importantly EPIC month of my life.
Three weeks…three events…
1. The Heathen Handfasting Huzzah of Epicness.
2. Chronic Badass pulls a team to participate in the Ottawa Walk for Lupus, achieving a “Gold Award” status for monies raised.
3. Camping with my family, kidlets included, AND crafting and effecting the Procession of Nerthus for dozens of kith and kin.
Three weeks later…and here I am reflecting on the importance and significance of each one of them.
Because I verily believe that we are the sum of our worth and deeds, and, at the end of my cellular activity, I want people to gaze upon my epitaph and utter the words:
“Holy shit, woman!”
I want to pull a Bowyer and slide into that sum-bitch upside down and on fire!!
I believe that not only were the last three weeks THE most importantly significant days of my life…but that the last three weeks changed my perception of….well….everything.
Because I am a chronically afflicted woman who did the damn near impossible and crafted deeds and enacted said deeds to the extent that people are STILL talking about them.
I didn’t just talk the talk.
I damn well “Brought It.”
…the result of which heard my name echo on the winds of the fire around which it was spoken.
Pretty. Cool. Shit.
So, I returned from the latest event a “changed woman”… enlightened… empowered in a way no words could articulate…all that corny cliché yadda yadda…
I sat down…I checked my emails…I popped onto Facebook and Google+ and Twitter…
…and I saw the same things over…and over…and over…
Why are people SO inclined to want to live the lives that other people dictate for them or….wait…wait…to live lives they think people dictate for them??!
Case in point: “…I am a chronically afflicted woman who did the damn near impossible and crafted deeds and enacted said deeds to the extent that people are STILL talking about them.”
It’s been a long time coming for me to be able to understand the fact that, at the end of days, no one else is going to give a shit that I didn’t achieve the same house, the same family, the same job, the same mini-van as they have.
So. Pompous ass aside, logic would indicate to me that I will be required to do things that people don’t expect, in order for them to give a shit at the end of days.
Again, “Holy shit, woman!”
Which is precisely why I’ve done what I’ve done over the last three weeks.
I am NOT your momma’s “chronically afflicted.”
If I want you to care about all that I am trying to bring awareness to, I will sure as shit give you a reason to take 2.2 minutes out of your day to do so.
I’m not just stubborn…
My lower lumbar cannot possibly burn any brighter than the stars under which I sat gazing during my time on the land that I love.
My mind cannot possibly form the words necessary to describe hearing my name spoken and carried on the breeze that delivered it upon the ears of the friends and the man that I love.
I’m freakin’ tired and fed up with being “chronically afflicted.”
“If you don’t want to be defined by your “chronic afflictions”, remember to do definable deeds…” ~~ written by me, May 22, 2012.
Talked the talk.
Walked the walk.
I, most assuredly, “brought it.”
When I looked in the mirror this morning, do you know what I saw?
Taken at Raven’s Knoll, May 21, 2012 at “dark o’clock” by my husband, Shane.
The stars are smudged?
You’re just that damn lucky to be on a planet hurtling through space and time.
DO something with that…