it is a new year, or so says my cell phone, and although the events surrounding the bringing in of this year were fun and spirited, i still find myself incapacitated by depression. flipping through pages of magazines, reading books and even walking about town, i see that, even on my good days, i'm sad and i'm lonely.
no need for pity, here. its just what "is" right now.
there are options in the future, there are changes that i can make to my life, both professional and personal, to fix these issues, there are actions i can take and others i can refuse, in order to align myself, my self, with happier days, brighter people, more conversation and many more smiles.
taking those steps is a bit frightening; fore, regardless of how hard one tries to ensure that no one is left in the wake of their, seemingly small, life decisions, life - in it's infinite wisdom, doesn't seem to care. its terrifying - the connection of things, the convenience and corruption and the overwhelming (and often time upstaging) sense that you actually matter in the grand scheme of it all. worse yet, the overwhelming and very much center-stage notion that you, in fact, as once suspected, do not matter in the grand (or less grand) scheme of anything.
however, since those dueling drama queens are battling for center stage, i'm going to follow advice that i've been given my whole life: do your best, after all, that's all you can do. for whatever occurs outside your head, outside your intentions and outside your conscious, you have no control over - so why fret?
i'm going to force myself to smile today. that's "step one to a sprightlier sydney" in this new year.
that and playing with my new (self cut) bangs.
although i dream of great moves, big decisions and long strides towards my full grown, big girl self, i know that every teeter on this balance beam and, just like that, i have a conniption fit (or something similar, depending on the scene and the players). you can't make big moves if you're not willing to lose some luggage. you can't take long strides if you're not willing to hit a puddle or sticker burr bush along the way. and, really, its not that i can't hand a rocked boat, a gruff neighbor or a bit of debt. its that i can't handle it the way i used to, with grace and strength and ease, the way i handled everything before peace corps and the attacks and my broken heart.
i guess, really, what i'm saying is that i'm not afraid and neither should you be - we've got smiles, cupcakes, sunrises and raincoats to help strike that balance, help find that idealistic notion that when you are sad and lonely, read books.