I have started and stopped this first post four or five times in the last two days trying to decide what I wanted to say and share, and in which direction I wanted to go, serious or light.
I was recently reminded of a quote from Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston:
“There are years that ask questions and years that answer.”
What if last year did neither?
A year without fluidity, or so it seemed.
I got no closer, but no farther away either.
Here are some tasty, if general, morsels from my year:
2015 saw the bearing of emotional weight unlike any other that I can remember. Then there were the losses, both physical and otherwise.
And yet, I traveled far and wide seeing things only one other people I know has ever seen, and frolicked through places everyone else had already been and I always longed to go.
Spent an enormous amount of time with the people I love the most like I was trying to make up for something, but wasted time, in equal measure, with people I didn’t love at all. Though, in all honesty, that was fun, too.
I did so many things right last year, but I made almost the same amount of mistakes.
I felt to the point of pain. Or pleasure. And I felt intensely human.
So how do I quantify a year like this in a couple hundred words, let alone make it make sense to you? Where to begin? More importantly, where do I go from here?
I’m not longing or looking for fresh starts this year. At least not for me. I am yearning to feel more more intensely.
In people, in peace, in books, in travel, in thoughts, in writing.
I’ll end this mishmash of words with a story from January 1, 2016 where I set off bottle rockets with close friends in rural Indiana to ring in the New Year:
Too bright and too early on the first day of 2016, we found ourselves completely out of coffee. This is not a good thing when six sets of eyes, who over-imbibed the previous eve, are staring at you in disbelief.
My house, my run to the grocery store, in my pajamas.
Laying down my Dunkin' Donuts grind on her belt, the far too cheery checkout clerk asked through her, no matter how toothless, yet contagious smile,
“Make any New Year’s revolutions?!?!?!?”
(Yes, that's what she said.)
In my weak attempt to match her enthusiasm, I replied,
“Not yet! You?”
“HA, HA!!! Nope, never do!"
"Maybe I shouldn't either!!! Have a great year!"
"You too, Honey Bunches!"
As I walked out, I couldn’t help but laugh.
I laughed because of her verve and warmness at such an hour. I laughed because of her mix up. I laughed because maybe she did mean 'revolutions' as words have multiple meanings and contexts.
I will never forget the woman who changed the early morning of January 1, 2016 for the better, so easily and simply. With just a mix up (maybe) and a smile.
May I, likewise, be the one who changes someone else’s day, so easily and simply, for the better, at least one time during this year.
(A simple definition)
noun rev·o·lu·tion \ˌre-və-ˈlü-shən\
: the usually violent attempt by many people to end the rule of one government and start a new one
: a sudden, extreme, or complete change in the way people live, work, etc.
: the action of moving around something in a path that is similar to a circle