For me, it never fails that the reflection of a past year tends to be a matter of thinking about how random life actually can be and that the best laid plans really can be even better than what you thought they might be from the onset.
I’m approaching this in a positive light because this year has been pretty damn swell. Granted, there are still roughly sixty days left and sure, there are nuggets of discontent, but when viewed in the glow of the environment, everything is peachy.
A year ago everything was incredibly stable, but also with this strange malaise of looming change. My Mom would be making the change to Germany, yet we had no idea how quickly this would happen at the time. I was in a terrifically horrible relationship that equated to a complete waste in time and effort. I was applying to the JET program, trying to take a blind leap of faith out of the system.
It turned out that my Mom’s call to the universe helped clear her mind for the better. It turned out that there was a cheerful young man I needed to meet and fall in love with. It turned out that with the first application I got at least runner up placement and as non-Japanese speaking, non-certified teacher I felt that was a very pleasant outcome to my waffling query of the universe.
What I did realize is that being severely pointed in discussions with the universe (and yes, this unfortunately meant in the completely New Age tint) is probably the best way to go about things. Waffling has been my m.o. for a very long time, but somehow…things need to change and I need to change them. Step one: more writing.
I was debating why exactly I started up this blog in the first place a couple of weeks ago. It was a mixture of getting reactions from friends, getting a voice of my own in words, mingling with others in the ether, and improving my writing overall.
Reactions from friends? Done. Voice? Done. Mingling? Done. Improving my writing…this is more complicated. I feel as though there is a lot of chatter in my mind in general; independent thoughts vie for space as they increase their own tangential avenues without any inherent interconnection with the whole mental process in general. If they do manage to connect, when I do have brief synaptic connections, it’s a beautiful thing, but it’s fleeting. What I do know is that I have to hold it in my hand and make something out of it before it fades away. Sometimes, holding it in your hand burns and it’s infinitely easier to let it go, but for every burn I can endure I know that there is a greater creation made. What I have been doing lately is that I’ve been just warming myself with the the flashes I have, but not creating anything with them. I suppose I’ve also been the photographer who has decided to enjoy the vistas without the urge to particularly feel the need to capture anything.
It’s a strange metaphor for writing, but when my blog has been stripped of things that really were outside variances that I can’t control, there might be a call toward finding something a bit closer to truth and I think I really just wanted to do all along. Maybe now I can just start writing myself into the version I’ve started to see.