- "I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather my spark burn out in a brilliant blaze than be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy, permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time." ~Jack London
Sunday, December 07, 2008
December, thus far, has been perfect. Just perfect.
Work has been going wonderfully. I've forced myself to attend potentially awkward gatherings and have come out the other side of them with new friends and a renewed sense of confidence. I have spent the weekend having truly amazing one on one conversations with some of the greatest people I know. I have cleaned out the clutter that's been filling my house and the metaphorical clutter that's been clouding my happiness. I have started preparing for the future. I have started reconnecting with the past. I have started enjoying the present.
I spent Friday night in our basement drinking wine with my best friend, watching truly terrible television, and discussing everything about our days, weeks, lives. We spoke of happiness and sadness and anger and silliness. We talked about our plans for the future. We reminisced over stories from our pasts. We enjoyed the present company of each other. Sometimes you just need someone by your side, someone to nod and say "I get it." Sometimes that's all it takes to feel love.
On Saturday night, one of my dear friends who I've known for 13 years now, came over for dinner. We made sushi together, an idea she suggested, an idea that immediately made me think "this is why we're friends." She noticed that it had been almost an entire year to the day since I last saw her in Prague. It's funny, how so much has happened since then, and yet, how it felt like only yesterday I saw her. I suppose that's the magical thing about friendship.
We assembled our sushi, ate, sipped wine, talked and talked about everything. It was so nice to reconnect that way. It was so nice to reach a point in the night where we had gotten past the details of what had occurred over the past year, and instead moved onto who we are now, at this point, in this moment.
She referred to one of my blog entries and told me she had written the exact same thing in her journal. It was strange to imagine that this woman whom I admire so greatly, who seems so perfect and together, could ever have the same uncertainties and doubts about her life as I do. But we all do. And it is so nice to be reminded of that. It is so nice to feel a little less crazy, a little less alone. It is so nice to sit and discuss things that are deep, and serious, and real. Sometimes that's all it takes to feel love.
Inspired by her ability to reach out to me, I did the same with another friend. We met for brunch this morning. I can't even recall the last time we talked, really talked, but it was just as fabulous as I remembered it to be. No, that's not true. It was better. It was warming a piece of my heart that I hadn't even noticed had grown cold. It was pure joy. He told me about his life. I told him about mine. He took me on a tour of his house. I made him promise to come see mine. We agreed not to wait too long again. We hugged. Sometimes that's all it takes to feel love.
That's December, thus far. The weeks ahead are sure to be just as full and restless as this past week has been, but I feel nothing but gratitude for it. Lately I find myself full of a kind of energy I haven't felt for some time. I just want to see everyone and know everything. I just want to burst open with love and light and gladness. I just want to run from the fields of uncertainty into the open door of possibility, where my future stands waiting, calling me in from the cold.