When I stopped writing four years ago, “cancel” was something done to appointments, TV shows and memberships, not people. As I return to publishing my experiences, being careful as to not be cancelled is a concern. I find myself wondering about the decade of archived posts. If someone were to untangle them with a fine-toothed comb would they uncover something worse than a knot so robust it had to be cut out? Even if previous musings contain no snarls, how do I not make a wrong step in the future?
The only approach I can take is the lessons I was taught as a child: be mindful of my thoughts, deeds and words, know that our differences are far outweighed by our similarities and that even in a site filled with essays about my life, not everything is for public consumption. I barely recall kindergarten but I’d like to think I know right from wrong, that the things I learned back then are so ingrained in me that when they were woven into my being is indeterminate. I will try my very best to find the balanced combination of honesty and kindness, much like the perfect partners of milk and cookies I most certainly do remember from the year before first grade.
Life is crumby. It’s messy as some of my stories will be. But I will play doctor in just one aspect: I will do no harm. This visually impaired chocolate chip-eating writer hereby subscribes to cancelling her cancellation.
#sisterrain #alittlesightalotofheart #legallyblindwriter #sisterrainscancellationpolicy
