Every morning of this new year, I’ve tried to write… or I wrote, or I am writing. It’s not always what I want to write, and the effort is usually short-lived. On Thursday, I had too much narrative in me in the morning to distill my thinking and words into images or something more poetic. I was too tired to go down the road of trying to delineate between prose and poetry. The other days have been slightly better.
Not only did I have too much narrative in me, but I was far too distracted by the to-do list: meetings, deadlines, things to get done in the busy world of work. This, ironically, is when I least feel like working. Time off, which I had over the holidays, only makes me want more time off. This is when I worry about my ability to function in “normal” society. How… no, why does everyone get up and do this every day.
The writing is part of my half-assed attempt at resolutions. Writing more, being more present, experiencing more joy and humor, et. etc. etc. In pursuit of that more humor thing, on New Year’s Day, I subscribed to the site GoComics. It delivers the comics (the funny pages) to me every day. Ever since getting rid of the daily, physical newspaper, I haven’t had that small jolt of humor in the morning that I used to enjoy. Signing up for the site was one small step in addressing a long-held, yet minor, desire.
On New Year’s Day (after reading the comics), I decided to re-introduce some things I’ve let slide (the beauty of this place) and I went for a walk along the Bay – about five miles total. On my walk, I saw a hummingbird buzzing around a bottlebrush tree and a dog with a long face like a sock puppet. On a sand dune near cluster of trees, a tall blue heron stood watch. Half-way through, my walk I stood on a pier where I had a staring contest with a sea lion. It floated in the water below me. We locked eyes for a few seconds. I think it was hoping I would have some food. Mackerel-less, the beast lost interest in me, dolphin dove, and swam away. I walked home.
Like most people, I have bouts of determination, and I fail or slip often. I’m going to take up that hobby I’ve been thinking about. I’m going to be better with my finances. I’m going to … The challenge, of course, is sticking with it. And one of the problems with resolutions is that they tend to be these sweeping attempts at redefining multiple aspects of our lives all at once: love, exercise, discipline, finance, extracurriculars, substance use, and moderations of all sorts. For me, it usually means getting back to basics, and doing so incrementally – writing a little each morning, taking an extra walk, being more mindful and present, reading the funny pages. For me, sticking to it (success), is about establishing patterns and overcoming my aversion to rigidity (strict adherence to schedules). At some point, my hope is that effort becomes routine, and these things simply become the things I do, the way I live.