Patty Unleashed: 1.19.22
If you talk to my friends or family, the adjectives they would use to describe me are funny, snarky, charming, smart, mischievous and kind—but not brave. Because, well, I am not brave. I avoid things that create fear. No need to be in high or small places. No reason to do any sort of activity where I could break a limb, be bitten by a snake, tumble down a ravine or get lost in the wilderness. Oh, and stay away from firearms or wild animals of any kind. Yes, safety is a priority, but as a result, I live in a bit of a bubble, and I’m itching to get out.
Where did this desire to try new things come from? The last six weeks were a gut punch. I saw three people die, two way too young. And then I got into a bit of a dust-up with a bully and realized if some ‘old broad’ can stand up for herself, well, what is holding me back? (FYI: I don’t encourage dust-ups. Bullies are unpredictable.)
So, in 2022, I am going to do things I have always wanted to do but haven’t. Here is my list:
- Ride a horse. I have ridden a horse twice. I am a bit afraid of those big animals, but I know too many people who ride and love the experience. I want to find an old trail horse, one that no longer gallops, perhaps just limps, to take me on a ride.
- Climb a rock wall. I am afraid of heights. Plus, being strapped into all that equipment is a big fashion no … but I have something to prove to myself. I want to reach the top!
- Start writing my book. My current working title is Everyone is Crazy. Not Everyone Admits It. As regular readers know, I have been very open about having OCD and think nearly everyone needs a little help with their mental health. I want to share my story about my struggles, which are usually funny, and how they have made me, well, me.
- Stand up on a paddle board. I spend four months each year in the Florida Keys. I am very lucky and grateful but not graceful. The first time I paddle boarded, I stood up. No problem. Ever since then, one big splash into the ocean after another. I can’t figure it out, but I will.
- Michelle Obama arms. I am 61 years old, and I want to have cut arms. I had them when I was 50, but now, they are mushy and flap when I wave. This must stop.
- Figure out God. How did I jump from arms to God? Weird brain. I need to do some soul searching. The past few months have kicked my ass. I need something to hold on to.
- Listen. Growing up as the youngest child I still feel like I am fighting for attention. I have a lousy habit of wanting to tell my story first. This year, I am going to zip my lips and start listening.
So, if any of my readers have a limping old horse or a rock wall, let me know. In the meantime, happy new year. Peace my Peeps!