Hannah Brencher, on her blog, wrote about a time she would host funerals for herself. Rather than being morbid and depressing, it was an act of release. She would put to death things of herself and her life she didn’t like, put tiny symbols of that old person in a box and throw it away. She would wear black to mourn, and then she would start over.
“I called that little ritual a funeral— throwing away who I was to become someone new. Someone better. Someone more likeable. Someone you’d have a really hard time letting go of.”
First, what an idea. I had always lusted over the thought of changing who I was and just starting from the beginning. Hell, I’ve actually started writing down the things I could change if I could turn back time. I never would have thought about making a ritual out of it, to solidify that damn act, to convince my mind and body that this is actually happening. I am actually doing this. I will actually be a different person tomorrow.
Second, I have always envied people who could just get up and do things. I obviously have trouble doing that. But Hannah writes, “…so much of my life growing up was just a matter of facing a mirror and asking, “Could you just be someone different today? Could you just do me that favor and start over?” “
Again, what an idea. That the things you do to yourself aren’t burdens but favors being asked. What a way to reinforce that what you’re doing is good. Positive. Happy.
I think a funeral is long overdue for me. I have a thousand things to bury for good.
This was originally posted on my secret blog, but after reading it again I felt the need to lay claim to it here.
Hannah’s original post is wonderful and real, and you can read the full thing here.