The Silver Thread Beneath Your Feet

Corey would rocket to the moon tomorrow if he could.  If he could purchase a budget pass on a sketchy-as-hell orbit rocket with a dubious safety record and the potential for a once in a lifetime thrill, he’d be all over it, scoping out rad space suits with zero hesitation.

He thrives on newness, challenge, the thrill of impossibility morphing into reality.

“Let’s move to Zimbabwe, we can work from anywhere.”

“Write your book, dammit, we can live in a box while you do it.”

“Let’s do it now and figure it out later.”

“Mediocrity is for the boring.”

It’s part of the reason I love him so much, the exact precise reason why he terrifies me.  I’ve never possessed that abandon, and prefer almost always to walk the known, familiar yellow dotted line than to veer over to the candy stripes and moon rock.  I have always believed that I’ll get ahead in life via dogged hard work and relentless loyalty, not because I’ve taken a whim flight to the moon to pocket never touched rocks.  I’ve never been OK with the idea of living in a box, and slightly elevated mediocrity is not the worst thing in the world, right?

But this last week, something snapped, and my neat little neat house of false stability teetered, collapsed, and started pouring blood all over everything. It’s a long story, and one that’s not ready to be told just yet.  But I was shocked, and shaken, and later in the day, when Jude ran by in his laser kitten onesie,  brandishing a stinky doggie, giant belly leading his way, I started crying, because god, these kids.  My boys.  My years of chugging and plodding and choosing the dotted yellow line of the familiar highway — that was for the boys.  Wasn’t it?

“The sooner you cut the crap and stop lying to yourself about what you love, the happier we’ll all be,” said Corey.

My ears welled up.

“You’re an artist. Write your goddamned book.”

He didn’t mention the box.

 

 

 

14 thoughts on “The Silver Thread Beneath Your Feet

  1. Having that voice to tell you the truth, even though you know it but are afraid to actually listen….well, that’s just plain priceless. He’s very lucky to have you, but I think you’re equally lucky to have him. Thanks for sharing!!

    • SS + 1 — you are right. It’s priceless, and stopping to listen to someone outside of my own head sometimes — man, that’s a huge thing. Thanks for being here – I remember you from way back when. 🙂

  2. This year has been one of a lot of career direction changes for me, things still haven’t completely settled down. I also walk that yellow dotted line and felt the same sentiments you described that if I followed the order and steps necessary that I would get what I wanted and I would be successful. The changes came unexpectedly and were very difficult but in hindsight I can see how much I desperately needed it. Move with ease and let things unfold, try not to think why is this happening to me but why is this happening for me. If your heart tells you to write your book then go for it. If it doesn’t work out then you can always go back to other jobs, you have the skills and talent and you’ve proven that.

  3. You should soooooo do it! I will buy so many copies that I will end up having to sleep in a cardboard box!
    But seriously, I’m a lot like you and fear going off of my little road but you have a crazy talent here and can put into words so often things I’m experiencing but can’t articulate. You write so honestly and you’re so relatable and also super likeable! I hang on your every word and wish I could keep reading after I finish each post. I vote book! Plus living in a box with Corey doesn’t sound THAT bad does it?! 😉 xoxox

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