Another flaw in the human character is that everybody wants to build and nobody wants to do maintenance.
Kurt Vonnegut – Hocus Pocus
Patches of light and dark gray marble the morning sky. So begins the last day of 2023. How will tomorrow be different? How will next year be different? What dreams might we pull from these swirling clouds? How might we soften ourselves to the occasional brutalities of next year’s weather?
I believe in new beginnings big and small. I like New Years and birthdays and anniversaries of all sorts because they remind us to reflect on our past, imagine our future, and consider what bridges between those two might be built in sandy soil of the present moment. At the same time, I also tend to diminish those “special” dates and occasions because I like the idea of starting now (whenever now happens to feel right). A random Tuesday in March is just as good or meaningful as New Year’s Day. As a believer in incremental change, tomorrow probably won’t be terribly different from today. As a practitioner of ceding control to a fairly indifferent cosmos, I am an uncomfortably shy neighbor to terms like progress, improvement, expectations, and at this time of year, resolutions. As evidenced by the mantra I “developed” at a stupa in Sedona (“continued compassion, understanding, patience, and grace”), I am not a new year, new me type of person.
Goal-oriented discomfort aside, I am thinking about what I’d like to see in 2024. I’m thinking about what new practices I might take up, what old habits and practices I might change, revisit, revise, or drop.
Writing
I’d like to get better at this. By better, I mean more disciplined, perhaps more routine oriented, and more focused. After four years of blogging here, I am once again giving consideration to things like purpose, audience, and impact. What started as a way to work through some cognitive dissonance over the way an engagement ended and also as a way to own some of that story has, I think, morphed into something else – though what that is, I’m not sure. At times, I feel a need to distance myself from some of my older posts as though they represent my awkward teenage years. At times, I worry/wonder if journaling is my excuse for not doing the harder work of more disciplined writing (be it poetry or more formalized creative nonfiction). At times, I worry that by leaving all of this content up I’m not only robbing myself of a new start, but that this intimate record of my journey has become more baggage than benefit.
Much like the daily fifty-two project that I shared in this space, I’m considering a more structured approach to this whole writing thing. Maybe a new poem every Monday, edits on Thursday, submissions on Sunday. Maybe a writing group or a class.
And maybe instead of this free-form associative writing about how making bacon in the morning reminded me of the song “The One” by Wild Child (“I’ll make the coffee / if you cook the bacon. / I haven’t had a lot to eat. / I like it black no sugar. / We don’t have any bacon, / but the sentiment was sweet.”) which in turn reminds me of lyrics later in that song, “we probably said some things / we both should be regretting, / we’re too young to be actin’ this old…” which in turn reminds me of that one time when blah, blah, blah… ad nauseam, I’ll try to focus more on a sentiment or metaphor and interject fewer random thoughts and associations. I’ve never felt like my writing has adequately drawn on other sources to validate some of my thinking. Better writers find better balance between the personal and the world outside of the self. I’m not sure I know how to do that very well.
In wanting to get better at this, I know I need to spend more time reading and that I need to both broaden my interests and improve my recall. Skilled writers draw on experience but also facts about the natural world and history. Skilled writers would find ways to begin an essay or poem with an odd fact about the California Newt they saw while hiking along the coastline, but really be talking about… I’m not quite sure what they’d link it to because, I’m not that type of a skilled writer… yet.
Work
I won’t be doing much of anything in the new year if I don’t find a way to pay the bills. I’m not terribly worried about this. I’m more than capable in a few different areas and I’ll find something. But in the bigger scheme of things, I’m hoping to get better at channeling my energy and finding a good fit. I also want to get better at accepting a middle ground. My approach has always been this sense of either I have to care deeply about my work or I have to treat it as a job, a means to an end, another day, another dollar. I’ve leaned heavily towards finding meaningful work – and I’ve been fortunate to find that type of work. But at times, I’m tempted to see if I can find a job that isn’t mission focused – a job where you show up, grind it out, and go home. At the present moment, I’m finding very little usefulness in trying to anticipate any type of outcome. I can position myself for interviews, I can take the process seriously, but in the end only time will tell if something is a good fit or not.
Relationships
Much like the job situation, I’m not sure how much control I have over this aspect of life. I think I can articulate what I’d like (eventually), but I’m not sure I can do much to bring about its manifestation. A week or so ago, I was writing about lacking enthusiasm. That hasn’t changed much. I believe that one gets out of these things what one puts in. If I feel meh, I can expect the conversations and the in-person meetings to be meh.
I was excited to meet up with two different people on my travels. They were authentically good connections. But I’m wondering if the fact that I was passing through allowed me to be more open to them. If so, should I get back into that mindset? There was a time (several years ago) when I met up with lots of people because “you never know?” But if I’m being honest, most of the time I knew before I met them if I was excited to meet them or not… and only the ones where there was a level of mutual excitement and curiosity seemed to have any staying power.
Fortunately, unlike the job thing, this does not need to be a priority. I’m pretty content doing what I’m currently doing. I may hit reset and delete the dating profiles just to “give my eyes a rest.” I suspect scrolling by the same people over and over again has the effect of creating a lot of background noise, of blurring everything and everyone together.
Beyond the romantic relationships, I’d like to develop some good friendships. It took me almost a year in State College to meet the group of guys who became my good friends. Quite honestly, it feels unlikely that I’ll get that lucky again. I’m checking out a few places (bars) where I meet new people. So far, they’ve mostly been into drinking. The difference seems to be that my friends from State College were interesting people who happened to like to meet up at the bar. Here. I seem to be coming across people who like to hang out at the bar but may not be all that interesting. It’s way early in my time here, but kind of like dating, you know when you’re clicking with someone and you know when you’re not.
Finding Joy
Two days ago I walked out of my apartment to go for a run along the marina. The sun was trying to break through. People were out and about. It immediately put a smile on my face – the sun, the people, the water. As I think about what I want for 2024, I’m tempted to say I have a lot of what I want and most of what I need. Yes, income will be essential. Yes, making some friends will be good. And sure, having moments like the ones described in that Wild Child song referenced earlier, “I’ll find you in the kitchen / we’ll talk about the weather / oh God you are beautiful” would be lovely. But I’m happy with a healthy mix of building, pruning, and maintenance. I think if I continue to position myself to find joy; if I continue to practice compassion, understanding, patience, and grace; if I continue to balance experience with reflection, it’ll be a hell of a good year.
And if not, there’s always 2025.