Years ago, I wrote a story about a mouse named Frederick for my daughters, but when my external hard drive crashed last year, I no longer had it on my computer. Knowing that at some point in my infinite wisdom, I'd actually saved it to disk, I went in search of the story. What I found completely blew me away! Not only did I find two versions of the story I'd written in about 1992, but I found two versions of what I would have called a "brain dump" at the time in which I just threw my deepest, darkest feelings onto the computer screen, and what I found completely blew me away with the most incredible sense of both "deja vu" and "what the hell has taken me so long to get back here!" I've ever experienced. I'm going to copy and past the first one, simply entitled "Ramblin" as an example of really coming full circle!
I have not edited this, and know there are a number of errors, but it is the content which currently has my head reeling!!!
Feel free to comment.
Ramblin: A Mild Rant by Sheri Levenstein
It wasn’t easy getting started. Heaven only knew how many times she’d
tried. But, something told her that,
this time, unlike so many times before, was the turning point she sought. Could it have been the words of
encouragement? The easy camaraderie of those
who had been there, who had come through, a little the worse for wear, perhaps,
but they’d found their niche. Or, was it
just that she’d finally had enough of the stereotypical, nine to five lifestyle
she’d always hated? Whatever the reason
or cause, here she finally was, poking away at the keyboard, writing anything
that came into her head. (did I say
“poking”? since when was this
finger-flying blur across the keyboard ever considered “poking”? co-workers had repeatedly commented on how
quickly her fingers tapped out her thoughts from cubicles <shudder!> on
either side. Now, as the brain is
engaged and flying, that little trick born of laziness, of course, was going to
come in very handy! So here she sits,
alternately massaging the keys and munching on leftover chocolate bars (for
inspiration, of course!) hoping for that one, truly marketable little ditty to
flow from the brain, into the fingers, and, finally, onto the screen. And, while typing and munching, she ponders
such unrelated concepts as “why is the damn screen so white” and, “what shall I
do for the week I have nobody to take care of except myself and assorted cats”
(as one of the group sends out her mating call, yet again, to all of the male
cats in the neighborhood who will continue to nurse their frustration through
the unbreachable fortress of this small tract house in the middle of one of the
last vestiges of suburbia.) Yes, there
are lots of words out there, so many in print, and somebody got paid to
put them together into something resembling sense. So, if somebody has to get paid for the
words, why is it always somebody else?
Why is she sitting here, tapping away, and getting nowhere she wants to
be? Is life to be a never-ending stream
of office cubicles, uncooperative computers and even less cooperative corporate
climbers? And, the answer comes back a
resounding NO!
This is NOT how it was meant to
be!!! What kind of example are we
setting for our children?? To accept
less then the best? To settle????? To be happy we have as much as we do???? Bullshit!!!
How can we tell our kids to reach for the stars while showing them quite
the opposite??? How can we make them
understand that the only limitations they have are self-imposed, if we continue
to make excuses for attempting to be what we really want to be??? Who created these silly, superficial molds
anyway???? What happened ot our
idealism? Does it have to be lost in a
morass of bills, and stuff??? We send
our children out into the world ill-prepared for what they’ll really face, so
why do we protect ourselves so well. A
wise person said (on another subject, but it is fitting here too) you can
shield yourself behind walls to protect yourself from getting hurt, but, you
also keep yourself shielded from a lot of good things. So, the first little bird you send out has a
hard time, and falls from the nest a time or twelve? But, the second little bird maybe only
stumbles 10 times, and, finally, there’s that little bird who leaps from the
nest, and flies right into the arms of someone who says “why, you are a
delightful little bird!!! I want
everyone to be able to see you and exclaim over your charm and wit, and
beautiful plumage! “ And now, your
confidence his shored up, and you begin sending more little birds out into the
no longer cold and unforgiving world!
Some come back, a little the worse for wear, but so many come back,
shining and gay and happy and full of new ideas and new inspiration. And
now, you’ve created your own flock, and your flock is bringing happiness
to others, and inspiration to others to go out and create their own
flocks. And now, your words to your
children are no longer hypocritical, and they see that they CAN do whatever
they want to do, and do it well. And
maybe they won’t wait quite as long as you did, nor require quite as much
courage, nor fear rejection as you have.
Maybe they’ll see rejection as a challenge to do better, to climb
higher, to show the nay sayers that the only ones they limit are themselves! This is the message we want to send. This is the time to stop sending conflicting
signals and to give the human race a much needed slap in the face to wake
itself up to what it is doing ot future generations. Do we really want our children to strive to
be the next Ronald Reagan or Bill Clinton or Newt Gingrich (and, what kind of
mother would name her child after a part of a witches incantation
anyway???). To leave their mark on the
world by inflicting pain and suffering on so many? To learn how to use magician’s tricks to
divert attention from the real issues so they can achieve personal prosperity
while divorcing themselves from self-respect?
I don’t know about the rest of the world, but, I’d rather my children be
poor and loved because of their giving nature, albeit without letting people
take advantage of that nature, than to be rich and considered a blemish on
society because they have so much power that they can make people do their
bidding.
Idealistic? Maybe
so. But , doesn’t it require more than a
little idealism to accept the fact that the socially accepted way of keeping a
roof over your head just isn’t what really makes you happy? Why must we toil away at something which
leaves so much of our spirit unfed? Why
must we continually search for what is right in front of our face? Why push
aside the true self because it’s “too hard to make a living that way”? And, who is to say it’s too late? What is too late? Life is too, damned short!!! We are too accepting of OJ and Bosnia and
Newt and Clinton and poorly mainteined equipment
that kills children and gangs and haves and have nots and helping every
goddamned impoverished or power mad country on the planet because we fear we
won’t be “liked”! So what?? I DON”T want to please everyone! I DON’T want to make everyone happy!!! I want to make me happy because, you know
what? When I’m happy, everyone around me
is happy!!! I don’t have to give up my
ideals. In fact, in giving up my ideals,
I’m taking away my happiness and anyone else who touches me!!! so, get this, bucko!!!! I (to quote an overused cliche) AM MAD AS
HELL, AND I AIN’T GONNA TAKE IT ANY MORE!!!
It is now the Me generation, and I’m going to make ME happy!!!!!!!
“I” is
dead!!!! Long live ME!!!!!!!
The only question my battered brain can form at this point is, why has it taken me nearly 20 years to find my way back????
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