Skipping Rope
What I love about storytelling is the power of a good metaphor to encapsulate an idea into more digestible data packets.
What I love about storytelling is the power of a good metaphor to encapsulate an idea into more digestible data packets.
Suddenly I heard a crash so loud it stopped me, cold. There are certain sensations we hold in our bodies as preemptive planning. What will I do if somebody breaks in? If a tree falls on my home? Could I jump out this window? Will a neighbor answer my call?
There are some pairings in this life that just don’t make sense. Even Bailey’s son, Max, said to me one day, “I just don’t get you two. I do not understand this relationship.” I’m not sure I could have described it until now.
But what happens if my job is only successful if I learn how to really F.A.A.F.O.? What I’m learning is…I don’t think I get any better at my storytelling, especially if I’m going to make a whole full-length show, if I can’t learn to play–really play, like I’m a little kid again–and let some things fail.
As I have slept on hospital recliners, created calendars for coordinating treatment transportation and meal drop-offs, and called on networks for everything from emotional support to equipment donations, one clarion call keeps echoing in my ear. We are not doing elderhood the right way around here. It is terrifying, isolating. It can break your back and your bank.
If you’ve not been through this phase, particularly as a female-identified human or person with a uterus, I gotta tell you: rough. It’s been the greatest opportunity for me to dig deep and try to tell a new story try to learn how to give myself love, grace, and time for healing. One thing that’s 1000% helped is getting my groove on.