Unblogging

I'm blogging! In a blog!

I left LiveJournal a few months ago after having my account sit idle for nearly a year. I held onto it for so long because it was interesting to look back in the archives and see what I was doing at this time last year, or the year before, or in 2006. I was usually pretty drunk in 2006.

I finally deleted the entire journal without archiving into any saved format. Letting go of the past has always been difficult. I won't remember that inside joke from college and my 10:10 girls! I won't remember that one time that Kristin and I told the funniest joke at Hat Trix! I won't remember that I became super pissed off at Jeff for bringing me a soda when I was trying to stop drinking sodas on a random Tuesday afternoon! I won't remember that Mom called me twice in one day to bitch about one of the tenants!

Here's the thing: I'm doing something different. I've slowly been focusing my attention, my devotion, and my love to the present moment. Have you ever heard that saying, that when you've got one foot in the past and one foot in the future, then you're just pissing all over the present? I love this saying. I love it because it's funny, and because one of my very favorite other things is peeing on the ground. So I get a pretty cool visual that satisfies a lot of my very odd likes.

(Peeing on the ground is really freeing and makes me feel closer to nature. Also, I read a book, I think the author is Regina McBridge, and the female protagonist was a gypsy taken in to a nice manor who still insisted upon going outside to "make her water in the grass." I like thinking about how I'm "making water" while I'm peeing in the grass. Little things make me smile. Much more when I'm fully engrossed in that present moment.)

So this slow transition has been going on for about two and a half years. I'd go into the major life events that sent me down the path to the present moment, but it's a really long story that all occurred in the past. And while it hurt to delete my LiveJournal and recognize the potential to forget so many good memories, it felt good to also let go of the stories I'd written about the past.