At the end of last year, I had the pleasure of writing exactly the kind of end-of-year post I'd always wanted to: Pleasant without being dull, reflective without being melancholy, whimsical without being trivial, and, of course, linking back to blog posts marking turning points in the year.
I took that week to reflect, which was appropriate. It had been, for me, a year of great inward shifts, starting from the inevitable, flattening despair of the massive practical and intangible losses this disease brings, to a new awareness of possibilities that I had discovered, fought for, or created out of whole cloth. It was probably the year that this blogging voice really took shape.
This year is quite a bit different. I've been technically homeless for most of it, catching up with friends I hadn't seen in far too long, and looking for a rational way and reasonable place to set up my post-poverty life. (Oh well.)
Despite my plans, I haven't had much time for reflection these past few weeks. Physical survival in the form of an income and affordable home were taken care of... but then the survival issue became much more personal, and at the same time, even further beyond my control as my nervous system took off without me.
Despite all that work, all that expense, all that hope of 2012… Nothing is assured. There is more to manage, but less I feel I can hang onto.
Admittedly, this isn't my cheeriest post ever. Be assured that my determination remains unmoved.
With it, that F-U imp still holds the back of two fingers up to anything – or anyone – that thinks to squash me.
This date is an accident of history. The end of the year has even less reason to land on this day, of all days, than the last cycle of the Mayan calendar had to land a few days ago.
Our calendar is only loosely tied to anything but mental habit -- and centuries of political pressure.
But it does us humans good to have a chance to pause and reflect, think about how we define ourselves, how we adapt, how we react, how we think, notice what we're grateful for, what we cherish and want to keep.
As for me, that's now too obvious to bear speaking of.
I will not die.
I have work to do.
I love, and am loved, more than my pitiful mind can encompass.
It's more than enough to keep me going!
Whatever we call this day, it's one more in the middle of an adventure beyond imagining...
Adventures tend to be damned uncomfortable things, as Bilbo Baggins was not the first to assert; but they make good material. As a writer, I get something out of that. If it's a form of insanity, at least it's an adaptive one.
Come with me on the journey. I always appreciate the company.
Links to blog entries:
I took that week to reflect, which was appropriate. It had been, for me, a year of great inward shifts, starting from the inevitable, flattening despair of the massive practical and intangible losses this disease brings, to a new awareness of possibilities that I had discovered, fought for, or created out of whole cloth. It was probably the year that this blogging voice really took shape.
This year is quite a bit different. I've been technically homeless for most of it, catching up with friends I hadn't seen in far too long, and looking for a rational way and reasonable place to set up my post-poverty life. (Oh well.)
Despite all that work, all that expense, all that hope of 2012… Nothing is assured. There is more to manage, but less I feel I can hang onto.
Admittedly, this isn't my cheeriest post ever. Be assured that my determination remains unmoved.
With it, that F-U imp still holds the back of two fingers up to anything – or anyone – that thinks to squash me.
This date is an accident of history. The end of the year has even less reason to land on this day, of all days, than the last cycle of the Mayan calendar had to land a few days ago.
Our calendar is only loosely tied to anything but mental habit -- and centuries of political pressure.
But it does us humans good to have a chance to pause and reflect, think about how we define ourselves, how we adapt, how we react, how we think, notice what we're grateful for, what we cherish and want to keep.
As for me, that's now too obvious to bear speaking of.
I will not die.
I have work to do.
I love, and am loved, more than my pitiful mind can encompass.
It's more than enough to keep me going!
Whatever we call this day, it's one more in the middle of an adventure beyond imagining...
Come with me on the journey. I always appreciate the company.
Links to blog entries:
- Warrior, eh? (End-of-year retrospective)
- Not even anger is wasted
- Whiplash... but the good kind
- Just enough
- Think zebra
- Imp-possible
- Vocation and purpose
- Re-learning how to drive
- Tern to the present
- After the burn
- Quantum physics and the divine plan
- Remembering and re-membering
- I intend
Posts
Happy New Year! Yes yes I know ... irony and all that... still I am wishing you a happy one...
ReplyDeleteI could definitely do with more irony in my diet ;-)
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