I’ve become a master of packing up my things and starting over.
Physical things, emotional things. You name it.
True “I’m taking my ball and going home” situations. A dozen failed attempts that could be wrapped up into a montage of a hundred suitcases opening up on thousands of floors.
Pack up, pack out.
Picture it - it sounds like it could be aesthetic.
Like everything I’ve done in life, I always dive in to my new starts headfirst, 100%. I have never half assed anything… except for math classes, swimming lessons, making dinner when I am too tired, dates with guys who don’t excite me, commitment to taking my anti-depressants, and ….
Well, finishing that list apparently. But you get my drift.
Other than THOSE things, I’ve really tried to keep an open mind about my new starts.
I’ve tried to let go of the past as much as possible, freeing myself to step into the future and to stop ‘Eat, Pray, Love’-ing it in various places, jobs and people.
Moreover, it would be nice not to feel like a traveling charlatan selling musical instruments to young children under the farce of starting a band, when really, I know I’ll be skipping town before giving a single music lesson. - Wait, sorry, that’s actually the plot line for Meredith Wilson’s Tony Award winning 1957 Broadway musical “The Music Man” (recently revived in 2022).
Now that I mention it, I actually performed in a production of the Music Man in my formative years, the third grade. Perhaps that had a deep psychological effect on me, leaving me with a Harold Hill imposter syndrome.
Maybe we do have trouble in River City (with a capital T).
I keep telling myself that I can’t just keep starting over. But at the same time, isn’t that what life is about? Inventing ourselves. Reinventing ourselves. Being whatever we want? Can I manifest something new, something better?
Did I do it the first time, or did I just get lucky?
Am I really capable or did other people just consistently fail around me, allowing for the exact right circumstances that led to my eventual success?
Please hold while I google “synonyms for imposter”.
Here are a few of my favorites:
Charlatan (already used once, continuing on)
Flimflammer
Hoaxer
Con artist (ooh, an artist!)
Quack
Beguiler
Masquerader
This begs the question, have I been living life as flimflammer, beguiling everyone around me to take part in my hoax? Am I common day quack, a regular old con artist? (ooh la la look at me - an artiste!)
I’m beginning to think I need to pack up all of these synonyms and start over.
Pack up, pack out.
I know in my heart that it’s okay to feel like this, but I wish it didn’t feel so unguided. Personally, I hate driving without my GPS. I don’t know where I’m going, and I have no sense of direction. That’s how I feel right now. In the car without a GPS, turning down different roads trying to figure out if they will lead me to the right destination. What even is the destination?
Hopefully not River City, where all that trouble is.
Enhance your reading experience with today’s Blog pairing menu:
Light Bev: Morning coffee w/ cinnamon on top