Purpose, an Epiphany and The Paseo Press.

Happy almost New Year! Wishing all of my readers a healthy, prosperous, and joy filled 2022! It has certainly been a crazy time for ALL of us — everyone has been impacted by the world’s Covid crisis and all the regulations and “new normals” that have gone with it. Rest assured, I am NOT writing about Covid today, however.

I’m going to get real with you…I had an epiphany recently. I love writing and the whole point of creating a blog is to have a place where I get to write about anything in the world I feel like, when I feel like it, and most importantly, if I feel like it. Since childhood, writing has always been my saving grace, giving me purpose and a voice. Validation as a human being, as it were. As a shy, primarily introverted person who can be perfectly content to daydream for hours, writing has been the tool to expression that has made me feel empowered. Finding a good image, crafting a melodic sentence, or figuring out something that has perplexed me, is what putting pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard is all about.

The good news is that my blog has been an open ended contract I have had with myself and my readers. It has been a free flowing, formless agreement where no one had expectations — whatever happened, happened. You couldn’t rely on me to show up all the time, if at all; I couldn’t expect my readers to show up either. Believe me, I have always appreciated all those who have taken the time to read my blog. Kiss, kiss! With so many options, instant gratifications and distractions in the world, (Netflix! Amazon! Twitter! Tik Tok! And my personal favorite, Instagram!) if someone took five or ten minutes to read what I had to say, I was beyond thrilled! My humblest gratitude and thank yous to all those who have carved out a wee bit o’ time for my random words and thoughts.

The bad news is that I have lacked consistency and commitment. As much as I love writing, however, I also find it absolutely terrifying. It’s scary to be vulnerable to a nameless, faceless audience. Without knowing it, I have held back writing honestly about myself, and more often, because all of these years I was afraid of what people might think about me. Fear of being judged, fear of revealing too much, or not enough, or of being too mundane, or being labeled a crazy cat lady…just fear all around. This fear might be the fallout PTSD after some bad writing workshops years ago…a lot of criticism and negativity can lead to a lot of insecurity. Who knows?

At 61 years young, I am not too concerned with what people think of me anymore. Or so I would like to think. Here comes the big epiphany reveal: So maybe the time is right to say that I want to write more about what I love regardless of what I believe the reaction to be. To be bolder, more carefree, probably more random than ever. It might mean delving into my newest obsession with cute, seasonal dishtowels (yes, this is a thing). It might mean I write about having a brain tumor (also true). Call this a resolution, or just a promise, or just a goal, or perhaps it is a pipedream. Time will tell. I am willing to take the risk.

I might be feeling particularly emboldened after reading the very raw, brutally honest memoir On Being Human by Jennifer Pastiloff. She battles depression, hearing loss, the death of her father at a young age, and low self-esteem manifesting in anorexia, random sexual encounters and dropping out of college. She discovers a way out of her pain through Yoga, meaningful relationships and ta-dah! writing…but I don’t want to say too much. One of the takeaway quotes from her book is, “At the end of my life, when I ask, What have I done?, I want to answer: I have done love.”

Pastiloff’s fearlessness made me think. I thought a lot. I pondered, “how could anyone be so vulnerable…and why can’t I do that?” Another thing she brought up in the book was how we are in denial about what is important to us. For example, she dealt with hearing loss for so long that when she finally admitted she needed hearing aids, it was life changing. How many times do we say “Yes” when we mean “No” and vice versa? Who hasn’t discounted their feelings or needs, or numbed them, or pretended that they just didn’t exist? Uh…not me.

I started The Paseo Press a couple of years ago just because. For no other reason than I wanted to have a safe space to say random things, be mediocre, be silly, maybe say something interesting now and then. I love the paseos that weave through my neighborhood. These paseos are walkways that meander from one part of our suburb to another — sometimes ending up at a Starbucks, or Whole Foods or CVS or a park or even a swimming pool. When I take walks on them, staring at trees or saying “hello” to passersby, I feel content and often inspired. It’s where I go to unwind and sometimes find peace of mind. Perhaps it is my version of Thoreau’s Walden Pond (which, by the way, was one of my favorite books in 12th grade English).

I have realized that I have to redefine what a “safe space” to write means to me. I’m not quite sure yet. I will let showing up consistently guide me to discover what a safe space signifies, and if I can channel security no matter what I am writing about. I think it’s time to aim higher, though. Not just for myself, but for all of us who have felt hidden or scared to be our truest, best selves. It should also be fun, too, even playful. Being creative shouldn’t necessitate being heavy handed. (I am speaking to myself, here.) I just adore the elderly women I see on Instagram who dress up to the nines and don’t give a rat’s ass about what others think of them.

2022 should be a year to go BIG, BOLD, COLORFUL and CREATIVE. This is asking a lot — it’s more than wishing you a Happy New Year. It’s making a commitment to being braver. A commitment that might involve dishtowels, red lipstick, a trip to Detroit, or be as simple as picking up a pen.