I have been "tagged" by the lovely, gifted writer, Susannah--to reveal my "DO/DON'T" list--so here goes nothing...
This picture of myself as a young girl prompts a pre-list thought, however, I do think my parents should have forced me to eat more. But, I digress...
I do wish I knew how to trust myself more.
I don't want to listen to dissenting voices over my own.
I do love to breathe in the deep warmth of freshly brewed coffee--watching it pour into mugs like brown ink...the scent conjuring up memory and potential.
I don't like drinking it.
I do try to take a solitary walk with intention each day...sometimes, I cover miles, sometimes just a few paces to the mailbox, counting clouds and new leaves as I pass.
I don't always find the meditative silence I seek there...sometimes, every step is just another self-accusation.
I do appreciate my brother's humor, my sister's enthusiasm, my mother's love, and the wit and energy of my in-laws and extended family.
I don't tell them this nearly often enough.
I do look at my children, their friends, my nieces and nephews, and the scrawny boy who smiles when he bags my groceries--and see the future.
I don't know what kind of world we are leaving for them, and this worries me.
I do love my father with all that I am...and I do believe he loves me too.
I don't know where his house is, or what he grows in his gardens, or how he spends his holidays. I don't know why...but, these question marks etch themselves in my mind.
I do have two tattoos--a butterfly on my hipbone and the Zodiac sign for Virgo on my left ankle.
I don't regret either one...the butterfly I had inked there on the eve of my 19th birthday to signify my transcendence over pain and fear of death--or the symbol to honor my Virgo brother who died and whose loss I wanted to commemorate on my skin.
I do always remember to bring my tiny black-velvet "mojo bag" with me in my pocket, filled as it is with gemstones, crystals, and talismans for protection, clarity, and balance.
I don't always remember my wallet.
I do consider myself a Feminist...my interest in hearing the untold stories of women is profound; my anger when equality is not upheld is fierce; and, my hopes for women and work and choice and strength are idealistic.
I don't hate men...know a number of amazing men, am currently raising a future one, and am aware that my most intimate life relationship is with a man like no other.
I do believe in marriage between any souls who love one another and seek that type of commitment--no matter what their sexual orientation may be.
I don't understand how people can be threatened, angry, or violent over LOVE.
I do believe in peace.
I don't see how we can believe in anything else and expect our world to continue to exist.
I do have publication credits, a rewarding position as a Book Reviews editor, and a novel in the hands of an incredibly dedicated and interested young editor.
I don't know when I will call myself a writer and not feel those words stinging bittersweet on my tongue.
I do want to travel the world--resting on my laurels in any country who would have me.
I don't even have a passport.
I do notice the waxing and waning of the moon in the night sky. If asked at any given moment, I could tell you its phase and about how my mood corresponds to the silver celestial light.
I don't easily remember people's names, phone numbers, directions, appointments, dates, or bills to pay.
I do (secretly) believe in ghosts (though I've never seen one), luck (though I'm too nervous to discuss it), fate (though I believe in free will), Karma (though I sometimes feel it works against me), the "evil eye" (because I'm one quarter Italian), lighting candles to saints (though I'm a lapsed Catholic), and the power of dreams and premonitions (trust me, if I dream you're pregnant--you are).
I don't always believe in myself.
Now, I think I'll tag...YOU. Yes, that's right--if you're here and you've read along and you have a blog--please do go post your list and don't forget to leave me a comment so I can go and read all about it.