if I am being honest ...
and other lies we tell ourselves
I’ve googled it and can’t find it, but a long time ago I saw a thing, an interview? A sermon? Maybe it was something from an Oprah show—I did watch a lot of Oprah back in the day. The gist of it was about when someone says, “to tell you the truth …” or “to be honest with you …” What I remember from the thing was that when you hear those phrases you should wonder: are they usually not truthful? Of course the question doesn’t automatically mean the speaker is a liar, but listener beware, or at least aware of what comes out next.
I’ve recently joined a writing group to help me get back into the practice of writing daily. Our convener gives us writing prompts, words to invite the muse out to play. The prompts have been sentence starters, a statement or question followed by … dot dot dot. One of the prompts was, “If I am being honest …” My hackles went up and unlocked some stuff I wasn’t even aware of until the pen began to let the ink go.
I need to be honest. With myself and with you. Today marks one year since we closed the doors on our little dream of a place on Chicago Avenue. It has easily been one of the hardest years of my life, and trust you me, I’ve seen some shit.
One year on and I am still shaken. My body is holding on to anger like I hold weight; it’s a wildfire in my belly, growing and spreading like my waistline. I know you can see it too. All the smiles and affirmational t-shirts can’t hide what is true.
I am angry that I built out my dream kitchen and then had to leave it (and all the money it cost) behind. I am angry about the landlord and the way they handled it. I am angry about prices, and people, and me. I am so angry at myself. I am frustrated that love and sharing and light and goodness didn’t win in that place at that time. But then I look and see who is in the space now, and I know that love did win. It just wasn’t a win FOR ME.
How gross is that? I want a win. With Pie & Mighty I thought I had it, but shit blew up, and everything got hard—like really hard—and I just couldn’t see a way forward. I gave up. And now I’m living in fear that I really gave up. Like, it’s gone and won’t come around again. I won’t get another chance. And I am so angry. And sad.
I know that letting go of the anger (and jealousy and resentment and fear) is the answer. All I need is a map, or maybe a detox? A healer, or is it an exorcist to help release this vile green anger. Where is that writing prompt?
The photo above is with two dear friends on our very last day of business at the shop. The joy and love you see is 100% real. I look at this photo to remember that it is going to be ok. That is me blowing a kiss to each of you who loved us. “Be back soon,” it whispers, “I love you.”
I’m popping up at this cool event. There will be peach, cherry, and strawberry rhubarb options for lil’ pies and dandies. You should come. Lots of deals, but my hugs are 100% free. Details here.
a few joy-filled (and other complicated feelings) items of note
I saw this, and now I want a dog. I will call them Moonshadow.
Friend Hugh reminds me (us) about saying yes, and then my favorite band throws this out into the universe, and I am whole again for 5 more minutes.
Oh darling, you did not quit. You did not lose. You build a community in the midst of one of the most polarizing times in Mpls history, during a pandemic, and through it all you spread joy and love and words of wisdom and funny videos, and love and love and love. And then it got too hard, and I have learned in my long life that when things get too hard it is because the ENVIRONMENT HAS CHANGED and therefore our direction changes. I am sad that it ended so stressfully for you, and I know the fear that keeps you up at night carrying that load of debt. I won't give you platitudes or tell you it's all gonna be okay (it will but who am I to say when or where or how it will look?) What I will say is all great success stories start with failure - generally many of them. We "fail" because we are learning and experiencing and as the environment is changing (at warp speed for you) our dream may not be realized because suddenly, our ancestors have a new dream for us. You have generations of pie baking women standing behind you. You have your dad who loves you so much and has been so proud of you. You have your mom who dreamed you into being. You have a community here who says, "just tell us what the new dream is and we will be there". And ya know what? You don't have to know what your dream is in any kind of schedule. Do what you love to do - write, garden, walk, bake pie, meet for coffee with friends - let your body release the stress and burden of the past 5 years and when you find yourself spontaneously taking big deep breaths consistently, THEN you can start asking what the next dream is. Until then, self care!!! Be better to yourself than you've ever been to anyone else. Your time is coming, it is never too late. At 70, I can still feel dreams bubbling and burbling inside, and I am getting so much better and letting them all jostle around together until one of them rises up with exactly the right amount of magnetism to draw itself into existence. xoxo
Wow, you are a writer. I love your pies and you, although we've never met. I also have seen some shit and and am trying to get to a place where it's a little calmer. I understand the anger. The last few years have been a s*** show. Covid, riots, cancer equals not good times. Times. I too am angry at myself for not being enough at the world for not being enough, but I know we can. Anybody who can make a creme de menthe pie like you has joy and love in them. I'll help. Not exactly sure what I can do, but I'll will start by being your cheerleader. Go Rachel!!!! You can do anything!!!!!
Best, sarah