What medium do you use to record and file life?

Some collect sticky notes with scribbled quotes or affirmations. Some collect books with passages highlighted to be revisited. Me, I collect life experiences.

You may wonder but don’t we all?  I’d like to think of myself as an experiential junkie sorta.  I crave new experiences. I can pull on them like sticky notes or highlighted passages to share with others, offer advice or insight , to achieve a deeper understanding of something or simply to remind myself of where I’ve been and how I arrived where I am.

Once upon a time, I wrote…a lot and until recently I’d forgotten about that experience until I was cleaning my office and a book fell off the shelf.

I’m afraid that as I am doing so many other things for someone else, I’ll forget who I am. So I hold on to bits and pieces of things that I KNOW I like and enjoy because I know that one day soon I’ll get a chance to do me. Music; school; language; singing; dancing; writing…what are my favorite colors again? Funny that some people think I’m bohemian. They don’t understand that I am a quilt on purpose. I have to maintain something to remind me so that when I get a chance to be me…I’ll have something to start with.

Lest I forget who I be

I’ve been a full time mother, wife ,provider, life coach, friend, confidante, lover, mistress, side chick, victim, abuser, gofer, go-to person, walking library

I’ve only been part time to me- Part time to address my needs and concerns in small moments when no one is requesting my presence.

I’ve done what I heard I was supposed to do. I got married, had children, worked in corporate, had the 401K, tried the college savings, traveled, had benefits, partied and socialized. All the while I maintained my orange, green and white and a little black. I held on to my eclectic taste in music even when I was bombarded with hiphop, rap, blues and zydeco.

I can finish things for others but I don’t finish them for myself. I will get to me later…

Lest I forget who I be.

I hold on to the glory of the day I get to begin ME as I define me. Children are growing up and growing on.

Lest I forget who I be

Raped at 13, I have been spun around and taken off course.
Fought hard to hold on to my dreams until they were taken away.
Lost my focus and just merged into the crowd.
Don’t wanna draw any attention to myself
Music was my drug, dancing was my release
Until he didn’t catch me and another dream shattered like my knee on the floor
Walked away falling deeper into distractions further off the course
Trying to sort through faint memories to remember who I wanted to be
Lost in another distraction, young and facing motherhood, a bad marriage

Amnesia set in.

The rollercoaster ride was fantastic with highs and lows
Friends, enemies, a husband, in-laws, who outlawed accepting me
I’m just holding on until it’s my turn. Until others stop asking and needing me to need them and go on about their business so I can do me.

My life is full of pieces like a quilt of interests whose existence is simply to remind me of who I am…

Lest I forget who I be.

So easy to just move from one thing to the next because it’s never about me really, doing it for someone else not to get approval or recognition but because it just needs to get done and what else do I have to do?
Sometimes they stop and ask if I’m okay, If there is anything they can do for me however it’s only because they want to pacify me until they are ready to move on to something or someone else.
I’ve done my best not to get attached to anything so that when it leaves it’s okay and I can move on.

I dream about what I wish my life had been like and work it into my “quilt” of me so I can pull it out later when it’s my turn…

Lest I forget who I be.

(written by T. Rene Beavers in 2003, published in Many Paths, Many Feet 2007)

I’m still a quilt attaching experiences and yet and I’ve adapted and changed as well over the years referring to my life experiences, as packages of flavored gums I’ve never tried before, chewed until the flavor is almost gone (or I’m over it)  and then stuck on my soul to be picked up later (or chiseled off when the layers get to thick to carry;  taking apart quilt squares is a challenge, I tried)

Sounds gross but you get me right?

Like I said in the beginning, we don’t get to throw away everything. It is my belief there is no clean slate, but we do get to select what stands out for us and hopefully use it to become a better version of our previous selves.  We do get reset and do-overs.

Never forget who you’ve been. We are always striving to create a more efficient and better version of ourselves. Spend some time discovering how you record your life experiences so you don’t repeat unnecessary experiences.