• author
    • Amy Ferris

    • March 25, 2018 in Bloggers


    This is what I know
    A good memory
    Post coffee
    Pre wine

    A few years ago a friend of mine screamed up at the heavens in a very crazy bitter unhappy voice:


    He was so unhappy.
    So fucking miserable.
    And then boom, everything – truly – fell apart.
    He lost his job.
    His partner left him.
    His basement flooded.
    His car broke down.
    His money ran out.
    His skin broke out.
    He got sick.
    He bitched & moaned, moaned & bitched: oh, my fucking god, everything at once. Everything. Falling apart. One thing after another; fucking shit motherfucker.

    And so I said to him in my imitable way: but you wanted your life to change, you asked for this. Trust me, that did not inspire or encourage too much love or appreciation. I was given the finger and shown the door; I didn’t leave. I velcroed myself to his barcalounger.


    He had an epiphany – a breakfast at epiphany moment: he realized he would have never left the job that he truly deeply hated, he would have never – ever, never – walked out of the bad unfulfilling sexless boring relationship, he would have never poured money into re-doing his basement which was in dire fucking need of repair & new pipes & a paint job, he would have never bought a new car even though he was in an abusive unrequited relationship with his lemon of a Toyota, and he would have saved, socked away, a teeny bit for a rainy day – enough to not worry for a month or two.

    He got exactly what he screamed up at the heavens for.
    Exactly. His life completely broke open, cracked open; wide open. Split open and spilled and shattered everywhere.

    He was in his late 50’s.
    Like 56, 57.

    Because he had absolutely nothing to fucking lose, he decided to go all-in balls-out, go for broke; go full in after his long tucked away dreams that he hid in the back of the drawer; he stopped being passive, stopped waiting for shit to come to him, stopped wishing & hoping for more and created bigger, and better. He packed up & moved to the very place he always wanted to live. It was bumpy & scary & invigorating & some days he regretted it all, and some days he loved the unknown, and some days he scraped by, and some days he caught himself, covering his mouth, from screaming up to the heavens And some days he thought holy shit what did I do, and some days he thought holy shit look what I’ve done. He tucked away his fear & worry & guilt long enough – a day here, a day there, a few hours here, a few moments there, and picked up his pen.

    He started writing.
    Day in & day out.
    He finished his first book.
    He got a sassy smart top notch agent.
    He started writing another book.
    He fell in love.
    Really deeply madly crazy-nuts head over heels in love.
    He saved a bit here & and a bit there, and socked enough away for a few rainy days, and one or two nor’easters.
    He ditched his abusive lemon of a car, gave it a proper burial at the scrap yard, and started taking the bus.

    The moral of this post:

    Change is what we wish for, hope for, ask for; scream up to the heavens for when our life knows – fucking knows – we deserve better.
    No more crumbs.

    I wish you for you happy & joyous & sexy and peace. I wish you a fierce determination – fierce as fuck; abundance, good humor, a few extra fucks to give and a whole lotta ruckus to make and many extra days to love better.

    And I wish you kind; the giving & receiving of kind because it goes with everything, and kindness is easy to accessorize.

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