Anecdotal Evidence · Bigger Than My Body

2018: Less of a Story and More of a Spiel

I keep seeing really lovely posts about the old and new year – accomplishments, goals, hopes, regrets/regerts. But every time I try to write about my resolutions, I get stuck. For a lot of people I love, this was a hard year, and if I’m good at anything, it’s being emotionally invested in the problems of others (fictional characters and inanimate objects included). It’s a superpower I probably wouldn’t trade in.

What I’m trying to explain is that when things get hard, you deal in the day-to-day. You stop making grand plans for the magical land of one-year-from-now. So with respect to that, I won’t talk about my career, health, travel plans…. Here’s what I know. In 2018, I’ve come to believe the following:

  • Routine is the worst pain and best comfort.
  • It’s hard but important work to be happy.
  • Forgive yourself and others.
  • You’re the closest friend you’ll ever have.
  • Listening is a skill few have mastered but all should practice.
  • Don’t punish yourself for being whatever it is that you are.
  • Don’t make the mistake of thinking you are only one thing.
  • Save and spend.
  • Storytelling can be a sort of religion.

This year enforced my love of duality. I’ve stopped doubting my own wisdom, but I’ve grown less convinced that I’m always right. Does that make sense? Cool, cool. Neither did 2018.

In 2019, I loosely resolve to:

  • Keep on keeping on.
  • Maybe make an enemy.
  • Go scuba diving, mutha fucka.
  • Start my own cookbook that is really more about stories and memories than recipes ’cause your girl can’t cook.
  • Be better. Yep, that’s right – even more better-er.
  • Teach my nephew about books, falling down, knowing how much you don’t know, and getting back up.

THE END

 

 

 

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