Day After Day After Day
Happy New Year Readers! (I so love being able to wish people something celebratory. “Have a great day” just doesn’t have the same ring for me.) I hope you are finding 2015 unfolding brightly before you.
I had an interesting run-up to this present year. I have had visitors or been visiting since before Thanksgiving. From November 18th to January 1st, I count 17 “typical nights,” which mean in my own home, and actually sleeping in my bed (rather than a couch or an air mattress). That’s roughly 39% of the time.
And you would think that I would embrace this wandering, traveling, fun-filled, cookie-fueled time of celebration with two arms open wide. Well, I think I did, mostly. I love my family, I love my friends. There is something about all that togetherness that makes me feel so complete. It makes projects feel far away and fuzzy. It makes goals feel a touch unnecessary, arbitrary, and even weirdly self-centered. The presence of those wonderful people is so strong that it holds me in the present moment for long stretches of time. Messages go untexted, emails go unread, statuses (statii?) go unposted, and I couldn’t care less.
There was another part of me though, a small but insistent need inside that was steadily growing. The smaller the year got, the larger my desire became. It was a craving. For silence. Stillness. Independence. I realized that more than anything, I was craving routine.
I find this strange, to be honest. I have done all this emotional, internal work to come to terms with the parts of me that feel unconventional. I use words like “artistic,” “flexible,” “creative,” and the self-effacing "employed-ish" to describe not only my personality, but my way of life. And there I was, wishing somebody or something would force me to wake up early, take a walk, sit quietly with a cup of coffee, and eat some damn vegetables. Boring, traditional, habitual. Or, if you like, comforting, steadfast, reliable.
I can’t say that I dove into a fabulous routine the morning of January 1. Like a new bar in the city, I took the "soft opening" approach to 2015. But finally, this Monday morning, I opened my eyes in my own room. I got out of bed and pulled up the covers. I made myself a glass of lemon water. I sat under my sun lamp, and I pulled out my journal.
Because it’s easier to seek adventure when you can find your way back home.