Posted July 29th, 2003 by Michelle

My apartment is the pit of despair, my bank account is in shambles, my cat is sicker than ever and my career as a writer is nonexistent. And yet, I’m happy.

I slept until 2 PM today. Which means I slept through my French class. But as soon as I woke, I had lunch with my brother Steve, and then fixed (yet another) flat on my bike. Which allowed me to ride in this not-even-quite-80-degree weather into the city to my yoga center. And there, I went to a rooftop yoga class in which my practice, oft ignored this last month, went deeper than ever.

My teacher, the venerable Dana Flynn, was talking to us near the end of class as our sweat seeped through the wick in our clothes and our minds filtered her words and the New York night. She said many things, she said silly things, and she reminded us that our lives are now. She also said something that made tears burst from my eyes. She said that living well today takes care of the past. That good choices today make previous bad choices okay. I spend too much of my life beating myself up. These last couple of days I’ve spent berating myself up for freaking out during my last night in New Orleans.

The reason for my freak was because I could not find my shoes. Neither pair. They were lost, although they were only in the next room, and I in turn, lost it. But I did not lose it because I could not find my shoes; I lost it because I was filled with alcohol and lacking sleep and most importanly, because I was so sad the weekend was ending. And for about ten minutes, I was so upset I was crying. And I’ve been ashamed of that these last two days, ready to apologize to my brothers.

But when was the last time they apologized to me for their behavior? Long ago. And not because they have been perfect, but because both Sean and Ian are able to accept themselves, and see minor freak-outs as part of life. And this weekend is a testament to them both, particularly Ian, who brought such incredible people together, and who held onto them for years.

So screw apologizing for my behavior. I’ve always found apologies empty anyway. What matters is what you do next, not the words you find after the event. And by living better, none of us need to apologize. Ian has some of the coolest people I know for friends, a veritable posse of them, most of whom could not even make it to New Orleans. But those that showed were so funny and terrific to remind me that Ian isn’t just my brother. He is a friend that has inspired enough allegiance and love that I’m dizzy in the company of his friends. The best choice I’ve made in months was to buy that ticket to New Orleans, and I hope to keep making those good choices. I may have years of bad choices to haunt me, but I have the rest of my life to do something about it.