Prose from the Bucket List – It’s Launch Time

We are moving closer to the colder time of the year and that’s fine. The autumn seemed to come on quickly and it’s almost gone now – as if the autumn left like a breeze and ready or not, here it comes . . . Wintertime –
The holiday season, Christmas, the New Year will be here sooner than we think.
Soon –
There will be a new chapter and perhaps there will be new players in our life. There will be new ideas and new chances to take. There will be new opportunities that will take place and if we allow them to, these opportunities are the doors that will open because other doors shut.

There will be new reasons to celebrate and reasons to reflect. There will be new challenges and still, there will be old challenges that have yet to be mastered or overcome.
We’re still here. As much as we said we want to quit or as many times as we might have shaken our fists at the sky – we are still here.
But –
We will evolve.
We will grow.

We will process and either we will advance on this ground, which we call Earth, or we will submit or stay the same – but to what avail?
We can allow time to mount and build up. Or, rather than allow fate its course and rather than fall or be a victim to the accounts of our daily life, we can challenge our supposed fate and create a new destiny.
Think about it –
What would it look like if we were to stand up and change our direction?
What would our life be like if we decided to defy the tides or undo the weights on our shoulders?
What would our existence be like if we decided to live more and move instead of allowing our fears to keep us still?
Better yet –
What if we decided to defy our fears?
Or even better, what would happen if we defied our limitations by challenging them and showing up in the face of adversity; as if to say, “No! Not today.”
Now, it’s my turn!

Fear – it’s an excellent motivator.
I used to live my life in accordance with the laws of fear. I had no sense of self. I had no idea how to turn my problems into possibilities or obstacles into opportunities.
I gave in to the catastrophes in my head and allowed my trained or biased assumptions to become true and dictate the laws of my life.
I allowed traumas and past intrusions to hold me back.
I allowed my fears and my past traumas to shape my belief system enough that I lived my life in a way that allowed myself to be a victim.
Or otherwise – I was a volunteer.

I remember the beginning of my journey. I remember the time I decided to commit to writing on a daily basis. I remember the fact that I could hardly type. I typed with one finger. I was new to this. At least – I was new to writing with the intent to improve and become something more than someone who scribbles words on random sheets of paper.

I had words and ideas and a voice that I was trying to define. I had a heart filled with riddles. I had a mind that was plagued with questions. I had a dream. I had an urge. I had a need to be heard and to either scream or whisper; but more, I had a need to relieve myself of my thinking.
I wanted to improve as a person. I wanted to advance as an artist and learn more about my craft.

I understood and knew about the critics. I knew about my fears and my insecurities.
These were my hold-ups that made it hard to not only adjust my life, but to expose this or to bring this out for public consumption. This also opened me up to a world of interpretation or judgment.
Yes, there are millions of writers out there. There are countless authors who write brilliant things. To me, who the hell would care about what I had to say?
Why would anyone read what I write? What makes me think that above all the other billions of people in this world, what could I possibly say that would make people think or listen?

I remember one of the lines I came up with in my earlier drafts – There are no victims, only volunteers.
I thought about the times I volunteered for my troubles.
I thought about the times I volunteered to be a victim.
But why?
Why did I allow myself to fall victim to a personal intimidation?
It’s not like I don’t have the ability to learn.
I can stand. I can grow.
I can change my mind and my direction.
But this is a decision that requires dedication and accountability.
This means I had to choose me – before choosing everything or everyone else.

Whatever you plan to do for yourself, just remember that you’re here to do this for you.
So forget the critics.
Forget the challenges. Forget the sound of your voice or the imperfections in your accent – and just go.
Let yourself speak. Let yourself be heard – even if no one is listening.
There is no one who escapes insecurity or imposter syndrome.
This is common. However, it is brave and uncommon to challenge these features; to overcome them and to stand up, or walk forward, as if to defy the voice which tells you, “Why bother? No one cares what you have to say.”
I had to overcome this –
And I’m sure I’m not the only one.

Even if you are alone. Even if it seems like you’re drowning in a crowd, waving your hands for someone to notice, no one does or seems to care – please, do not sink into the thoughts or allow yourself to submerge in the muddiness of self-doubt.

Do not let go of your hope or your dreams. Do not stop moving.
Do not stop fighting back or resisting the quitter within.
Do not give in to the catastrophizing beliefs that there is no hope or no reason to fight back.

Trust me – there is.

I am still at it. . .
I am still working on the sound of my voice. I am still either screaming or whispering and rather than allow myself to be caught up or stuck in the webs of my doubt, I move.
I still come here – even if I am alone or if no one cares or listens.  

I can say that I do not type with one finger anymore. I can say that my voice has cleared and that my craft and my ability to write has improved.
And I have to go. I have more to say and more to do.
I want to accomplish more; hence, this is the motivation behind this journal – to go, to be and to do.
But more, this is an idea to cross off the items on both a daily and long-term bucket list.

I sort of flow here – naturally, I mean.
I have no idea what I am about to say when I sit down and start my communication with you.
I know that when the alarm rings, I get up. Then, I come here to speak with you.
I come here to reach you and to allow myself this small, but special moment, first thing in the morning.

I open myself up to this very page – to this page right here, which is blank in the beginning. But as I type, I watch as the letters appear on my screen.
I call this accomplishment.
(I love this part.)
Next, my stream of consciousness takes over.

I’m not even thinking. I’m not concentrating on the words themselves; but instead, I allow myself the freedom to pour my soul onto the page.
I let go of whatever holds me back. I let my heart sing. I let my thoughts leak out. I allow myself the opportunity to growl – if I have to. 
Who cares if no one notices?
I do.

There is so much to do. And no, there’s not always enough time to do what we want to.
So, we do what we have to do because more than surviving, I want to live.
I want to breathe. I want to experience the world and taste the sweetness of accomplishment.
But also, I want to endure the bitter flavors of disappointments or so called failures.

I want to endure this and learn how to sweeten my falls by allowing myself the permission and pushing my abilities – to get back up and to go back at it again.
Sure, I know all about rejection.
I know what it’s like to come close to success only to have the door close.
I know what it means to be knocked down and humbled.
I’ve had the opportunity to meet rejection, face to face.
I’ve had doors slammed shut.
I’ve been laughed at. I’ve been told that I’m not good at what I do –

Yet, I’m still here.
What does that say?
What does this teach us about the secret of my (or our) endurance.

Nothing is so far beyond our reach or grasp that we cannot try, reach hard enough or work to taste the nectar of our success.
However, it’s true. We are not all made equally. If we were, then I could take the stage at Madison Square Garden and sell out shows with my singing voice. But, I can’t because I don’t have a singing voice.
I do not have the same talents or benefits as others. But then again, nobody has the same talents or benefits as me. 
Learn this – trust me.
This is a valuable lesson.
Nurture this idea too. Otherwise, we fail to ourselves and lose to an otherwise basis of comparison.

So, rather than focus on my faults or deficits, I can look at my benefits and focus on my credits.
I can keep moving. I can get back up. Sure, maybe I can take a beating, which might not seem like a victory; however, at least I can take a punch, so-to-speak.
I can say that yes, I know what the bottom feels like. I’ve hit the floor before. I know what I have seen and I know about the depths of my despair. Yet even while stuck in the dungeons of depressive thinking, I allowed myself to be the caged bird who sings. 
Why? Because no one can stop me,
That’s why.

Find your successes. All of them.
Count them the same as a religious person would tell you to count your blessings.
Count all of your victories, no matter how simple or small they may seem.
Account for all it took to achieve even the tiniest success.
Let this build you.
Let this become your platform. Let this be your springboard so that when you jump, you can leap high into the air and taste the breeze and feel the wind on your face.

Let yourself take off – and remember, to hell with the critics.
To hell with anyone who feeds your doubts.
To hell with your insecurities.
To hell with your irrational fears.
To hell with your limitations and yes, to hell with the voice in your head that tells you, “Why bother?” The reason we bother is this – no one else is going to account for our successes.
Sure, there will always be a line of people who look to point out our mistakes – but to hell with them too. 

I am here, world.
I’m writing this to you, The Universe, and to you, The Ultimate Mother, Mother Earth, and to you as well, sir, Mr. Time, as in “Mr. Father Time, himself, and to you as well, the powers that be, Madame Fate and Madame Destiny.

I have put in time and effort. I have designed and created. I have folded and fallen and yes, I have risen and re-risen more times than I can count.
I have not stopped.
I have hope. I have love in my heart.

I have a need to walk Central Park West and to take a horse and carriage ride.
Ever do this?
I want to – it’s a nice ride through the park, with a blanket across my lap and ah, Central Park, how you’ve seen me throughout the years.
And you, New York City; my heart, my dream, my love, my desire, and the keeper of my secrets – you and I have seen so many changes and facelifts.
I have seen all sides of you the same as you have seen all sides of me.
I have gone from Downtown to where the drag queens peddle their sex trades and to the Uptown scene. I have seen the sights of Park Avenue and park benches. I have experienced highs with you and lows yet you have always cuddled and consoled me – no matter what the pain was or my fears told me – you have always been there
(to push me).

I love you . . .
You are my heart. You are the motivation to my every step.
You are the reason why I have kept up this long and because of you – come hell or highwater, you are the reason why I will not and cannot stop.

Each day should be equipped with a goal or a challenge.
And I have them.
Both.
Goals and challenges 

So today, before I close, let me thank you.
Let me tell you how it is your love that keeps me alive.
It is your ability to inspire that motivates me.

I seldom tell you the reasons behind my love, but I should tell you this more.

So – let me say this again.
I love you.

(I exhale, take the last gulp of my coffee)

Today’s item: make it so!
Scream. Talk.
Say what you have to say but by all means, do not go so quiet that your voice is drowned by the doubts in your mind.

You are the most capable person in this world.

Don’t let anybody tell you differently!
And if they do –
Tell them to go fuck themselves . . .
If you can’t say it, call me.
I’ll say it for you.

Life is meant for the living.
There’s enough cemeteries and graveyards in the world –
But us, you and me . . .
We don’t live there,
At least, not yet.
So, until then –
Make a move. And do it now.
Otherwise, time is running out.

Yes, it is later than you think.