The lyrics of an Anna Nalick song played in my head earlier, “And life’s like an hourglass glued to the table. No one can find the rewind button, girl. So cradle your head in your hands. And breathe, just breathe.”
I remember feeling entranced by the song, even setting it as the main ringtone on my phone.
At the time, I was twenty-five years old and consumed with existential dread. And part of what soothed me was those words. And others. Words in songs, in books, in blogs. It didn’t matter.
They were my connection – the tether – when within, I could float aimlessly into the uncertainty and void while racked with fear and confusion.
I remember an interview I saw with Maya Angelou and Dave Chapelle where they discuss the African American experience in the 1960’s, and at one point, Dave asks Maya – poet, memoirist, and civil rights activist –
“What does that do to a generation, having lived through that and having known those people? If this was me, I imagine I’d still be angry. I’d be angry with my country, I’d be angry with anybody who let that happen to my friends.”
She responds, “You should be angry,” but differentiates it from bitterness, “It’s like cancer. It doesn’t do anything to the object of its displeasure.”
Now here’s the part that stuck with me the most. “Use that anger. You write it, you paint it, you dance it, you march it, you vote it, you do everything about it. You talk it. Never stop talking it.”
Even when it’s hard, let’s keep at it. Let’s push ourselves beyond what we think we’re capable of. I’ll be here, holding you accountable for being the best version of yourself.
Ok?! You got this.
Now get to work!
Loving ya!
Jaclynn
Going On 40 