Blast from the past

(I just found this blog entry from July – that I never posted. So here it is. More to come, I promise.)

(Phoenix, Arizona) – When I’m tired or sad or just a little pissed, I judge those parents who let their kids watch iPad movies at restaurants. I judge those people who run with headphones. I judge the folks who talk to me with one ear bud in, one ear bud out.

But even in my the-whole-world-is-going-to-hell-in-a-digital-handbasket mindset, I know it’s not really about them. I don’t even really think they’re doing anything wrong. I’m the one who’s angry that I can’t turn my mind off.

I remember sitting at a table eight years ago. I was waiting for a class to start, and I was knitting a soft, purple scarf. I looked up and saw a guy I knew. And he smiled at me. And I was nervous, but I also felt at home. I didn’t know then we would never make out again, but maybe I did. For a moment, I was OK with it all. I still am. That smile of his is always going to stick with me, maybe because I was so present in that moment.

I regret nothing. Not the dudes I dated or the dumb things I’ve said or the times I tried to grab the reigns of a situation I should have just let be. I just wish I had been awake for more of it, less worried, less stuck in my head, not paralyzed into distraction by what could be.     

I want to keep in touch with my friends better. I want to have three books going at once. I want to live each day with my heart and hands, not my head. I want to be running. Well, at least one I can solve this morning.

1 comment to Blast from the past

  • Dyan

    Love your thinking/feeling writing, Stina. So true to who you are and have always been, only more so. I love your line about wanting “to live each day with my heart and hands.” Beautifully spoken wisdom.

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