Lessons My Mother Taught Me This Weekend at Home While I Sat in Her 1989 Volvo and Told Her Secrets about the Time I Almost Crumbled Under the Weight of a Decision that (Hyperbole Aside) Shifted the Course of My Life
When you were in Kindergarten, you refused to paint with the student grade poster paints your teacher provided and demanded the high quality paints tucked away in the art closet for special occasions. After much negotiation and a possible standoff, you got the high quality paints you requested because you explained, with much eloquence, how using the student grade paints would not allow you to create the best painting of the flower garden. You were 4 or 5 and you demanded the best and thought every occasion was the occasion to be excellent. You are 29 now, do not regress. Don’t get comfortable with bullshit. Don’t settle for less than all the stars, the moon, clusters of fairy dust, planets that have yet to be discovered and galaxies that have yet to be named. Tell the truth about what you want. Tell the truth about who you are. Just tell the damn truth all the time to yourself first and to others second and thirdly, never settle. When you feel you have settled, gotten comfortable, accepted mediocrity or generally made a mockery of your regal nature, exit with grace. Your agency lies not in the acknowledgement of momentarily lowering your crown; it lies in the decisive act to place the crown back atop your head and saunter away.