Cultivating my inner Woody Harrelson
I read this profile of Woody Harrelson, "Hollywood's cosmic cowboy," in slack-jawed amazement. See, I’ve always been a little uptight, a little high-strung, a whole lot serious, very, very much a Nervous Nellie. My spirit animal has long been Bert from Sesame Street. So reading about Harrelson’s easy, laid-back MO, especially combined with his incomprehensible success as an actor, made my jaw drop. I’m mystified. But also? I want me some of that magic.
Of course, some of that magic is just spin. Every celeb profile is telling the truth, but telling it slant to the extreme, to paraphrase Emily Dickinson. And let’s not forget that certain things come easier to a straight (I’m assuming) white guy. If you had a widely-reported threesome without your S.O. do you think everything would work out just fine?
Still, how many women do you know with that loosey-goosey kind of mein? Especially women our age, with kids and responsibilities? Not very many, right? Like, zero many women.
Nevertheless, I’ve decided to make this my life project in middle age. I, Adriana Velez, am going to cultivate my inner Woody Harrelson. Yes, even with my diminishing estrogen. Instead of straight-up weed I’ll go with CBD oil and meditation. I’ve gotten pretty good at cultivating an awareness of when I freak out unnecessarily. The next step is using that awareness to take a breath and remember that I’m just a tiny speck in the universe and that none of this really matters. Really.
I’ll let you know how that goes.