My very first email address was email@example.com that was back in 2000.
If you would have told me then, that one day I’d have my own .com, I would have asked you if you were drunk, and then offered to finish your drink. In 2000 it probably would have been something like a midori sour, or a fuzzy navel in a 32 oz plastic cup…that I paid a staggering 3 dollars for. I would have grabbed my best girlfriends, and we’d make a run for the dance floor, and request the following:
1) Lil’ John, Usher ‘Yeah’ complete with thunderclap.
2) Madonna ‘like a prayer’ complete with total dance-off with serious eye contact.
3) Dixie Chicks ‘wide open spaces’ complete with the 4-person swaying group hug, to cry over our failed love with Fraternity Joe and co.
Back in 2003 I got my first professional email address. I had to step it up, as I was emailing doctors, nurses, and psychologists regularly. I didn’t spend a whole ton of time on the internet. My phone was a flip phone, and texting wasn’t really a ‘thing’ yet. If you had asked me then, if I would ever have a .com, I’d ask you if you were high, and see if you had any pot to spare.
Through the 2000’s, I gained a grad school email address, spent a ton of time on research sites, writing papers on papers on papers. I once got the feedback from my advisor:
‘Lyndsey, this is a PhD program, you are not ee Cummings, please capitalize appropriately. Also, you’re being too descriptive in your findings, less feelings, more numbers’
If you had asked me then, would I ever think I’d have my own .com I’d tell you that I could care less, I really needed a nap, and a sandwich. Grad school = 4 hours of sleep per night, and a stipend that was generous for a diet of PBJ’s and tap water.
I took one writing class in college. Caribbean Novels 240. I am not kidding. It was my freshman year, fall semester. I literally ended up there because it was chosen for me, and I F-ING LOVED IT. It was taught by this fiery professor named Maria Lima, who had a beautiful accent, and didn’t put up with crap. We read several books through the semester, all with islanders on the front. I cant remember a thing, other than I loved the writing portion of it. But that was the extent to my ‘formal training’ as a writer…a Caribbean one at that.
Looking back there are moments I realize I was starting to fall in love with words. I brought down the house my high school graduation, taking the podium as class president, and delivering a passionate speech to send us off to college feeling like we could take on the world. It was recorded on a VHS camcorder, and was one month later, taped over by my mother who needed to catch up on her Korean soap operas (but THAT is not THIS blog : )
I take up all the space when I write cards. I don’t know how anyone can just let that generic message be enough. But anything generic makes me want to die a slow death anyway…but that includes just signing your name to a card. Do better than that!
Facebook birthdays. If I care enough about you to wish you a happy birthday a) I should pick up the phone to sing to you or b) ATLEAST text you. But I do love a good Facebook birthday. It’s weird and fabulous to hear from people from all parts of your life. But the writer in me is like ‘happy birthday’ ‘happy day’ or the WORST ‘HBD’ oh dear lord, it’s like, you can FOR SURE do better than that! Words are a form of expression…and my thing is, if you’re going to put yourself out there. Put yourself out there. Let people feel you.
I love languages. I love accents. I love dancing. I love music. I love art. I love poetry. I love talking to strangers. I love photos. I love journals. I love playlists. I love passport stamps and state-lines. I hoard nice pens, and will be legitley mad at you for a good day, if you steal one of my pens. (it’s not fucking funny). I LOVE expressive people. Creators. Writers. Truth Tellers. I’ll add 5-hours onto any road trip if there’s a hint of ‘look for the road, about 3 miles down from the farm, you can see the ocean from there, and you can buy the best strawberry jam you’ve ever had’ good enough for me! I love the journey of seeking the view.
I crave vulnerability.
I desire movement.
I am always up for leading by example (and that includes epic failures)
I am passionate about the truth.
I am a writer.
I am a writer.
I am a writer.
So here I am. About to launch my .com a place for my writing, yoga, photo, and general self-expression to live. I was tired all day today. Came home from a great day at work, and CRASHED. It’s like I had to power down so I could really show up tonight and finish what needed to be finished before tomorrow morning.
It’s not all entirely complete. Small details here and there. But my web designer is working her tail off, and at a certain point, the small details will just be new small details. So here I go.
Here’s my commitment. And I am so F-ing clear about it.
My commitment to my life and everyone in my life (and that includes you reading this) is to give you a platform to speak the truth. YOUR truth. I can only do this by leading by example. Of writing about the things I think some people may be afraid to write about, or to see in themselves, I am holding the space for your fear, and for my own, because what’s bigger to me than the fear is freedom.
The freedom to express and not be judged.
The freedom to reveal what you’ve been hiding.
The freedom to celebrate what feels amazing.
The freedom to be pushed further, to go, as my teacher Cyndi says ‘beneath the beneath’ because I am frankly, not interested in your half-truths…and certainly not my own. Half truth = an ordinary life. Half of pretty much everything. The middle. 50%. No way.
So I write about the moments that startle me in their truth. In their humanness. In their raw, beautiful form.
If you’d ask me right in this very moment, would I ever think I’d be launching a .com
I’d say hell yes.
I am ready. And it took the village that is each of YOU, reaching out to me, to say again and again ‘keep telling the truth’ ‘thank you for what you shared’ ‘I sent this to my so-in-so and it helped them’
I am so grateful for each and every one of you, and I say that with my whole heart.
I come back to this quote again and again, from Liz Gilbert in Eat Pray Love.
“In the end, though, maybe we must all give up trying to pay back the people in this world who sustain our lives. In the end, maybe it’s wiser to surrender before the miraculous scope of human generosity and to just keep saying thank you, forever and sincerely, for as long as we have voices.”
Humbled & Grateful.
Lyndsey 9/17/2014 9:57pm.