This is not one of those aspirational lifestyle blogs, you know the kind, where young men pontificate on how to make a lot of money and travel the world and be very hip and cool while doing it. The idea is that you should want to be like them.
So I shall be frank. You do not want to be like me. No one would aspire to have my life, an extremely ridiculous one full of sorrow and drudgery in which I am frantically trying to figure out how to pay the rent far too often for a woman of my age. I could win the lottery tomorrow, or the Pulitzer, and while I would not say no to either of these things, neither of them, or anything else, would cure my daughter and she would still suffer, and my life would still have a lot of sorrow and drudgery, which is to say, it would still be one of those silly human lives.
So I am talking to the grownups of the world, the ones who have bills, and regrets, and maybe a shrink. The ones who can’t abandon their lives to go live it up on the Riviera or to retreat to a mountaintop. Not just can’t: wouldn’t want to. The people who don’t aspire to my life, but have it already: a real life, warts and all.
I am sure there must be at least ten of us, right? And ten is a good start.
This blog is not about how if you follow my advice (“you should be like me!”) then you will lose fifty pounds/cure your acne/never get the flu again/attract your soul mate. I don’t have the first idea how to do any of that stuff. And besides, you don’t want to be like me. You want to be like you. With a little more peace, maybe. Not mistaking control and anxiety for mastery of anything.
This blog is about trying to be here with you, and to know that you are here with me.