With the amount of time I have dedicated over the past week to figuring out exactly why Kate Middleton’s family picture is causing such a stir, I could have written this piece many days ago. But, alas, I got sucked into the controversy much like many others who apparently have absolutely nothing better to do and here I am, on a Sunday afternoon, toiling away over the many thoughts I’ve had over the past two weeks. At the exact moment I found myself zooming in on Princess Charlotte’s hands, I asked myself “who am I and what has become of me?” I finally let go of my curiosity and let the sleeping princess lie. Poor thing, I’m sure she’s just having a nervous breakdown like the rest of us parents out here.
The past two weeks have been busy. I hosted my first open mic storytelling night at Holmestead Harvest in Whitman last week. The closer we got to the date, the more I wanted to back out. “What have I gotten myself into?” I asked a few times on Saturday morning. I was stressed and my nerves were beginning to get the better of me but not before I downed a huge hamburger at Dillon’s in Plymouth. I can eat no matter what it seems. The night was a big success with a much bigger turnout than I anticipated. Old Colony Brewery (also in Whitman) was there to serve local beer, they even included an IPA named Evergreen & Grey! As I said at the end of the evening, Whitman and Hanson are great towns but they are both lacking many things and one of those things is a flourishing art community. Storytelling is ingrained in us as humans and, if we keep this up, I think these towns will only benefit and begin to prosper as they deserve. It was great to see all ages come together there. Don’t worry, I’m already working on the next one.
In addition to the open mic, I have also been wading through personal trials and tribulations with my kids. I know that many say that parenting is the hardest job out there but I am just now coming to fully appreciate that. No matter how old your kids are, there will always be challenges. Although my knee jerk reaction is to say things like “kids these days” or “this generation, amiright?”, but I don’t think that’s very fair to who these kids are. My generation and before grew up with our eyes on the prize and our mouths shut. This generation seems to have existential angst for breakfast and doom and gloom for dessert. They’re anxious, unsure, stressed, confused, bewildered, and angry at us for screwing it all up for them. How did we do that? Well, we’re the ones who started to kill the planet and now we look to them to save it. As a student said to me the other day: “Humans, in all their hubris, think they’re killing the planet when the reality is that the planet will be just fine…its humans that won’t be.” With that, I was firmly put in my place and realized the unfairness of my generation’s disdain for theirs. Bottom line? Of course these kids are having a hard time being human right now. What we do with that I have no idea. When I have all the answers, I’ll be sure to let you be the first to know.
“Are we doing anything for St. Patrick’s Day?” Isaac asked me as I sat in the sunroom with Thomas, taking in and reviewing all of the shenanigans of this past week. “No, Isaac, we are not.” I told him without hesitation. I have made a Guinness chocolate cake with Bailey’s mascarpone frosting to follow our not very Irish stir fry and rice dinner. After this week and, let’s face it, all the weeks prior, I have finally decided that I can no longer be more than I already am. To quote Ryan Gosling, I am “Kenough”. For once I feel self-assured, confident. This week was long and difficult yet somehow I found time to admire the rising crocuses and budding silver maples, to share a surprisingly good pizza with Thomas over beer. Last weekend, people came out to support a risky decision I made to invite storytellers to share. I talked to people who are going through/have gone through a lot; I was told that my writing has helped. What I neglected to tell everyone last weekend was that when I first started Evergreen & Grey, I felt as though I was shouting into a void and I shuddered with embarrassment over the very intimate details I had shared. I was at an exceptionally low point but kept at it as often as I could. Now, 5 years later, the fact that people have read and processed what I have written is humbling; the hope that what I write makes a small difference keeps me at it. This journey is never going to be easy, that much I am certain of. Yet, the more I share that journey with my people, the more compounded joy I feel. However you wish to tell it, the truth will always set you free. Now, let’s dance.