Not that it’s a particularly attractive look, but it does accomplish a few things:
Limited sight lines (keeps me from seeing shit I don’t want to see).
Keeps my head warm when it’s cold (though a snazzy hat could accomplish the same task, and more fashionably)
Aaaaand that’s about it.
When I look back at my first 40 years, I think it’s pretty fucking astonishing what I’ve been able to accomplish during my moments of clarity — those where I opted to strategically remove my head from my ass. And in all sincerity, it makes me want to cry.
Why? Because of all the time I’ve wasted on refusing to see.
So today, I’ll throw a few questions at you that make me cry when I think of the answers. The only way out is through, and darlin’, there ain’t nowhere worth going that involves shoving your head up one’s ass to get there.
Why have I not done this?
What’s the worst thing that could happen if I have the conversation?
Have I placed money above my heart?
What have I neglected that deserves my attention?
What have I missed because I refuse to slow down?
Have I said, “I love you” today — and meant it?
Am I taking care of myself — and if not, why?
Have I let those close to me help when they’ve offered or have I been too proud to accept and insulted their generosity?
Have I set boundaries and do I honor them, or do I keep letting things through and lamenting the life I’ve created?
If I walk away, what’s next?
If I stay, is it willingly and enthusiastically?
Have I placed the opinions of others above my own?
Am I letting someone else run my life or is this my motherfucking
ship Starship Enterprise?
Pull your head out of your ass — the view might surprise you. And it’s funny — after 40 years, the view still surprises me.