We’re going to take a little break from the social media discussion. Because, well, f*ck it.
It’s a phrase I find myself uttering more and more these days. F*ck it. It feels good. Say it with me. F*ck it. Okay, now say it like you mean it. F*CK IT. Better. It’s really satisfying, right?
This past year has been the harborer of some pretty big moments for myself and my family. It’s held more than our fair share of life-is-too-short days. Perfect little reminders that being hit by a bus isn’t all that far out of the realm of possibilities. Which leads to the very essence of f*ck it.
(Okay, for the remainder of this entry, I’m going to use F’IT as a substitute. Those little *s are annoying, and I’m lazy.)
Saying F’IT always leads to something, whether it’s awesome, or awful and teaches a scarring lesson. F’IT is the breaker and the builder.
F’IT can be big or small, but it’s always a re-setting of the bones. I had a F’IT moment sitting in my digital marketing class during my senior year at school. Finals were about two months away. It was snowing. I looked out the window at Burlington, VT and wondered where my place was in that town. Then I said F’IT. As I walked out of class, I called my friend who lived and worked in New York City and left her a voice mail asking if I could sleep on her couch. Two months and one week later, I moved to New York.
Both a traumatizing and thrilling decision. It slammed the book shut on one chapter of my life, and altered many of my relationships forever. At the same time, I found my core. I was adopted by a few NYC natives, who taught me that socks are not a fashion accessory, and that I can’t wander into traffic. They also taught me how to laugh until you’re breathless in a dive bar, convince a cab to drive to Queens at 3 AM, and not to let anyone push me out of the way on the subway. NYC taught me the indescribable feeling of perfectly navigating a crowd of thousands, because you know exactly where you’re going. F’IT is what gave me that opportunity.
F’IT taught me how to kickbox and travel alone. It allowed me to fall from standing into a yoga back bend, teaching me that the world is pretty cool upside down. F’IT took me to the concert of a band I had never heard before, and handed my soul over to The Decemberists for about two hours. F’IT is the only way I’ve ever made my own life interesting.
And I need to say it more. (To myself, obviously, there might be sensitive ears in the area.) Life is much too short not to say f*ck it.