In spite of the busyness that is the holiday season, the period between Christmas and my birthday tends to make me introspective and a bit nostalgic and schmaltzy about the year that has past.
Today I turn 37 and this year was no exception. A LOT happened in my life in 2012/year 36 of my life. There were many adventures, many high highs and more low lows and it all shaped a year that revolved around relearning how to not only embrace change, but to create change in positive ways. From the outside, some changes don’t look too positive as I’ve outright lost some important people in my life and distanced myself from others in order to put said changes into effect. I did what was good for me. I shan’t get into specifics as I don’t want to dishonour those relationships, but I promise: good changes.
Relearning to make and accept changes leads to a lot of relearning about vulnerability. I was stuck in a holding pattern of unhealthy relationships because I was deathly afraid of being vulnerable again. I know some of you will go ‘WTF? When have you never worn your heart on one sleeve and your vulnerabilities on the other?!?’ but you folks are likely not the problem. In all honesty, no one was the problem but me, there just comes a time when one stops trying to get through to people and has to let them go, but I clung out of that fear, the sense of false validation I thought I was being afforded and it made me weak and burnt me out and I let go and was scared because it’s scary, but I spent a lot of time in the company of the fear and the grief and here I am now.
I LIKE my vulnerability. I am friends with it again. I LIKE being friends with my fears again too because now my fears are what they should be: the bells that go off when I might be putting myself in danger, instead of imagined potential hurt. Turns out being comfortable in my own skin again has brought me a lot more love again. Wicked.
Yesterday, there was this post about love that kinda made me go ‘fuck yeah! LOVE’. I don’t necessarily agree that we seek love out of loneliness, or even that we seek it at all, but it pretty much is the bees knees, innit?
At one point in 2012, I found myself looking in and out and around me and realizing…holy fuck…I’m kinda entirely surrounded by this love junk. I have people who CARE about me, who value my contributions to their lives and want to spend time hanging out with me and exploring change and vulnerability together. And I want to do the same with them because they’re awesome people. The COOLEST people you’d ever wanna meet. Not everyone is that blessed.
So, I slowly began to remember that love junk is so easily smeared (not that way, pervs) when I’m ok with being vulnerable and wearing my heart on my sleeve. And I met a handful of new people to love and be loved by and…I’m getting misty…because…how did I forget? I fall in love ALL THE FUCKING TIME. How did I forget? Only my therapist knows.
Another single parent friend of mine and I went for drinks last weekend. Kind of a ‘holy shit, we made it another year and we ain’t dead yet’ giddy-up fest for ourselves and talked a bunch about this love junk and how it’s hard, but worth it. We also did a lot of examining of our failed relationships (serial monogamists, bull-headed, difficult people who kinda sorta reject being pigeon-holed and kinda sorta suck at relationships sometimes are we both – maybe also faded punks who refuse to raise our children with oppression and big, unreasonable expectations and limitations that will stifle their psyches and self-exploration – i’m sure you get the picture) and how nice it is to have people around who are positively splendid to just love. Not necessarily in the romantic sense (that’s nice too) but to be blessed enough to be surrounded by people who are sometimes difficult, often challenging, a lot of fun and make love easy to feel and give in so many ways. Wicked again.
I intend to roll with all of this gibberish through 2013/year 37 of my life. I adore how it makes me grow and gives me a more intimate relationship with my creativity; how it expands my brain and its capacity to give a shit about things outside myself.
In 2013/year 37 I intend to fall in love a lot. With people and ideas and art and adventures and all kinds of things. Be warned; I may fondle your cerebellum, but only in loving, respectful ways.
I expect this year to be hard too. Several people in my life are going through tough times, my mama #2 – a veritable force of in the world and force in my life – included. She has taught me SO much about all of the ways love can go down. Basically accepted me into her fold from day one and has never made me feel anything less than special…and now I’m misty again. Cancer is a bitch, yo. Ma is in my heart and thoughts always and I will be dropping everything and running when she and her family need me.
I expect it to be hard because I have bridges to decide whether or not to mend.
I expect it to be hard because I’ve committed to some challenges that I really, really, REALLY want to succeed in. They make me giddy and intellectually aroused and…gasp…VULNERABLE allatonce.
I’m ok with hard work. Being the ‘cappiest of the capricorns’ (as mama #2 would say) I embrace it. If there’s anything I’m good at, it’s climbing ragged slopes and meeting challenges…usually with a manhattan in hand. More the metaphorical kind, mind. Please don’t go inviting me on an actual craggy slope date. I WILL fall. There WILL be blood and probably a trip to the emergency room.
I plan to continue to lead my actually not at all threatening, but threatening to some, faded punk, single as long as i wanna be (cue Spice Girls) lifestyle out loud. I intend to continue affording the sprogs every inch of independence they deserve, no matter how scary that can be. I intend to be as kooky and as challenging as I’ve always been. I intend to be supportive and to give a shit about all of the great big and little worlds that are beyond my being.
Mostly, I intend to smear a bunch of love junk.
Yours in hippie-nerdiness,