Is it naïve of me to say that this is not what I was expecting?
I did not expect this last year to pass in quite this way.
I feel like I didn’t accomplish nearly enough–and I haven’t–and yet that I have been stretched, both to grow–and I have–and too thin.
I think that as I get older, I’m understanding more and more the importance of releasing oneself from all vows made to god and one’s self over the course of the preceding year. Certainly, it gives you the opportunity to make new ones, better ones (or perhaps just more realistic ones) that have some empathy for poor, wonderful humanity.
Time passes more rapidly now, and I feel like I can make the days spin like Tibetan prayer wheels, revolving around the axle of Saturday and Sunday, churned by want and desire.
That, I realize, is not necessarily a good thing.
I’ve been walking up to a crossroads for a while now, in so many ways. The trouble is the timing. I’m trying to extemporize, vamping until it’s time for the next act. That, in a large and real fashion has been what this year has been about for me.
So, I’m learning, and trying, and trying to apply, and forgetting, and remembering, all that, to make this new year–hell, this new day, this new hour, this new moment, be meaningful to me in its own right, and not simply filler.
Time is too precious to kill.