On December 31st, as the world celebrates completion of another year, I declare my goals, my vision for how I want the next 365 days to play out. I mull over the statements. They sound good. Feel good.
None of it is
drastic. I'm not expecting to gain the power of human teleportation or find a
cure for cancer. Just small steps to a better end. Harness the ideas that have
been making a playground of my mind- publish more, get more work, make more
money, become more financially stable. Push through the fear of getting
behind the wheel of my car and driving farther-on highways and thruways-
merging- making left turns. Put myself out in the world more- with grown up
humans. Just simple things that others seem to have a handle on.
But by January
2nd, my attainable declarations feel like a manifesto chiseled in stone. Heavy
words which hammer with the hands of a ticking clock. Get going! Get doing! It chimes with urgency. Fear
seeps in. What if I can't? What if at the
end of this year, I am no further ahead? What if I never publish another piece
of work or another illustration? What if I never arrive at the destination by
my own vehicle? The beast of the self I think I should be starts to bear
down, knocking me to the ground.
Each day that
goes by without proof that I am further ahead on the path- makes a daunting
task of moving onward. I stumble through the seasons and
eventually begin to trip over basic qualities like patience, compassion and
kindness toward others because I am angry with myself. The pressure of
self- doubt erodes my mountain and I crawl into the cavern carved of my own
anxiety and disappointment. All the while the clock is still hammering away-
vibrating through my head, my heart, my hands.
By the time the darker days of November
and December settle in, I have resigned to fooling myself into believing
that I am comfortable there- in a state of regret for an unaccomplished year. I
feel the residue on my fingers- traces of opportunities that I might have let
slip through because I was focused on the other things I thought were set in
stone. But I can't fool that gol dang little instigator- that agitating
clock. Each urgent tick and tock- a twist and knot in my gut. A feeling of
being sticky and stuck. And black and blue from beating myself up.
An alarm starts to sound-pelting me right in my safe place. Get up! Get Out! Life is moving on. And on and on. You made your own self stuck. YOU imprisoned yourself in a time frame.
It pelts me again
and again- taunting me out of the cave. It pummels me so that I must face the
crisis of faith in myself as the days decked in light and jingle bell dance out of December. You know who you are and where the
strengths and weaknesses lie on the spectrum of your being.
They are just words, abstractions that you are pining after. No one is grading you on the achievement of the vision you painted in your imagination.
Stand up and take stock in the fact that each day that you wake is an opportunity to re-set the timer. Or smash the clock. Haven't you always told your children- 'Open yourself up to learn more- know better, do better, be better. Grow'?
It is a difficult thing to do-to let go- to give in to opening myself
up to possibility without a plan. But, I have to break the vicious circle that
I have been running in. No one gets anywhere that way- just makes you
dizzy.
So here we go, 2013.
