One of my favourite activities on earth is constructive-self-criticism.
And by favourite I mean compulsive.
And by constructive-self-criticism I mean beating the crap out of my self-worth and stripping myself of whatever is left of my dignity.
One day, while aggressively and relentlessly berating myself, about all the things I have yet to accomplish, I yelled at myself (I do that),
Name one f@#$ing thing you’ve accomplished in this lifetime!
Which, naturally, hurt my own feelings but, interestingly enough, led me to sit down and write this list:
I left home when I was 14 years old.
I lived with families, I lived with roommates, I lived with a mob of debaucherous punk rockers twice my age (you know who you are) and I even lived on the streets for a while.
I survived
I went to photography school.
I gave birth to 3 beautiful and brilliant baby girls (naturally and drug free – I might add) and raised them pretty much all by myself.
I got my driver’s license when I was 8 months pregnant with my youngest daughter, so I would be able to get to the hospital the day she was born.
I took a bus to Seattle, 3 months later, and picked up a piano and drove it to Vancouver in a 1 ton truck, with no one but my 2 month old baby by my side.
I tossed everything I owned to the curb, packed up 3 kids and moved across the country, all by myself.
I was accepted to Concordia’s (Jazz) music program even though I had never graduated high-school and showed up at the audition without accompaniment or sheet music and sang an Irish love song and Opportunity by Joan Armatrating… Acapella.
I survived the death of the love of my life/the father of my children without being institutionalized.
I survived Autoimmune Hemolitic Anemia and 12 blood transfusions. Although I suspect I may have suffered post-traumatic-stress disorder as a result, but HEY! I survived.
I survived (so far) raising 3 teenage girls without having a psychotic break (mostly) or giving them up for adoption.
I watched my house burn to the ground with everything in it. 3 times.
I have been heartbroken, dumped, cheated-on, lied to, evicted, robbed, raped, bankrupt, and devastated in countless ways, and bounced back (mostly) Every. Single. Time.
I co-founded and co-produced an awesome series of burlesque shows.
I’ve worked as a waitress, a shop-keep, an usher, a bartender, a photographer, a nanny, a janitor, a secretary, a florist, a pre-school teacher, an intervention counsellor in a homeless shelter, and a resource counsellor for pregnant women and new mothers “at risk”, an actress, a singer, and about 12 other things…
I’ve performed in burlesque shows, rock-shows, dinner theatres, cabarets, festivals, television emissions and films and shared the stage with some of the performers I admire most in the world.
I write stories and songs.
I’ve been published in a magazine (sure it was only 3 sentences for en Route, but still!)
I work three jobs, I regularly perform in front of hundreds of people, and somewhat consistently make love (with words) to the general public via www.sweetvegan.net and www.theladyslounge.com
And a bunch of other cool things that I can’t remember at this exact moment.
Have I accomplished everything I was hoping I would have by now?
Not even close.
But if you had told me 20 years ago that I would have done everything on that list by the age of 41, I’m not sure I would have believed you.
I’m just saying…
Maybe instead of beating yourself up for everything you have “to-do” or haven’t done yet, sit down and write yourself a list of everything you have done.
You’ll probably be pleasantly surprised and pretty damn proud of yourself.
Day 1. I placed the beans in a glass jar, covered in cheese cloth, for 2 hours, rinsed and drained.
Day 2. The beans already had tiny little penises sticking out of them.
Day 3. The sprouts are already edible!
Day 4. Was beaming with pride and could barely contain my excitement.
Day 5. The jar was full of real live, full-grown sprouts!!
So I ate them in my salad.
And named myself Sprout Master.
