Micro Entrepreneurism, Simple Living & Art
This post is part of The Write On Project
Topic: New Year’s Eve
It’s the end of December. In fact, its exactly the end. December 31st. The end of a month, the end of a year. The middle of Winter. There is still snow on the ground. Leftovers from our White Christmas. My first White Christmas. And I’m sitting outside, on our deck, looking at mountains, blue sky, and ridiculously bright sunshine. Pure sunshine. I’m soaking it up. I’m warm.
Two days ago I was told to write. These instructions didn’t come from anybody, they just came. So I started to write about this year. Last year to this year, to next year. I am my own main character. My mother is my co-star. Our plot is neither thick, nor twisty, but it is fast paced and full of whims and good karma. Or so I think. It’s also got pesky questioning little voices, depression, darkness and stubborn forward momentum. To sum it up – we made it to 2011. And so here we are. Here I am.
To break it down, it seems appropriate to start with New Year’s morning 2010. I woke up hopeful, but disappointed. Much like every other New Year’s Eve since my adulthood, it just hadn’t been awesome. It wasn’t epic. It didn’t seem worthy of ringing in the New Year. Instead, it had been just another night – and not even a really good one. I woke up wishing I had just stayed home.
So this year – fearing I was facing the same destiny – and dreading it, I asked myself what would be an appropriate way to end/celebrate/admire/appreciate one year and look forward to the next. Which is how I got to be writing this. And how I got to be sitting on the deck soaking up the sunshine and the view. It’s also how I really got to thinking about my intentions for 2011.
I spose I’ve thought about intentions for a while now, but giving them that name is a fairly new exercise for me. It feels a little grown up. And a little Buddhist. And a little hippitastic. But most of all, it feels right.
I was told I have a million seeds inside of me, waiting to grow, and if I could pick just one to let grow, which would it be. At first I thought “identity.” But that was too abstract. What is this identity? To me, its a feeling of me. Its an understanding of me. Its the experience of me for me. Its me, alone. Not sadly, or happily, just me. Still too abstract. I pushed further, I wanted a vision of myself in this search for identity. I wanted a concrete image. And what appeared surprised me, and of course, made me smile.
It’s my untouched dream from the summer before I left for college: Driving around the country in a VW bus. I want to see places, and write about them, and take pictures, and experience them. I don’t need company. I don’t even think I want company. It would change it. I would be distracted. Worried if they were enjoying themselves. The dynamic of solitude is what this adventure calls for.
Really, its just a matter of finding a van and saving some gas money.
I want to go see nature.
I want to stand on the Pacific coast and swim in that ocean.
I want to stand small in front of monsterous Redwoods.
I want to see the other small hippie towns of America.
I’m sure I’ve left some things out.
And I want to take Ayla (my dog). My typewriter. Camera. Journal(s). And a drum. And a bike. And some books. Probably Clan of the Cave Bear and Valley of the Horses.
So there it is. All laid out as best as I have it pictured. It feels BIG. But part of what 2010 taught me, is that I must dream BIGGER.
*Check out the other posts in this installment of The Write On Project:
Pickles On My Burger by Lick The Fridge