Following certain traumatic or unpleasant events, terms and memories and anything really, that you knew before those moments, can change their meaning. I think about this a lot, especially at the beginning of October. I think about this because I used to have a tradition that I coined for my own context, “Rocktober”. It was almost serendipitous. It was one part initiating, and two parts happenstance. It was a month when good things would happen not just for me, but for a lot of people I cared a lot about. There was always something exciting, always things to look forward to and that included things out of my control: Concert dates, album releases, parties, Halloween events, good movies out in theatres, and so on and so forth.
But then something happened.
And so now, I’m here on the record to un-write ‘Rocktober’ from my vocabulary. It’s no longer a term I wish to use, want to use, and it’s a term I can only associate with a past life I don’t occupy anymore, in any capacity. The meaning has changed. My reference around the word, the term, the memory, is a negative one, and so I choose to ignore it, to throw it away.
My new OCTobers are filled with rain, filled with misty ocean views, wet sand, trips to Surrey on the train while listening to music and looking out fogged-up windows cajoling with my breath. My new OCTobers are filled with newness, of walking down a street, into a building, into a room, into a party, with people, sights, sounds, smells, experiences I’ve never had before this moment. My new OCTobers are filled with friends who care about not just me, but everyone and everything in their lives; passionate, diligent, conscientious people with dreams and goals and achievements who are beautiful inside and out, and kind, and who are, like me, going through a life-altering year. My new OCTobers are filled with reconnections with old, good, talented friends that I’ve undergone a lot of history, visits, memories, trips, inside jokes, concerts with, and who I trust wouldn’t ever hurt me. My new OCTobers feature brave, good-hearted, wise people who see the goodness in people without a voice.
So, I no longer use Rocktober anymore. Because I don’t need to. Because I’ve moved forward, and onward, and upward, and I’m above “Rocktober”. I don’t need it. And I won’t need it, ever again.