Uphill

metroparkshill

I saw this little hill in the Metroparks when I went for a run there last week. It’s a lot bigger than it looks in the picture, but I somehow looked at it and thought, “I could climb that, if I hadn’t just run 7 miles.” My knees suffer after running and climbing a hill at that point was not a good idea. But I will return to it.

I know 2015 in many ways will be an uphill battle for me, but I feel more prepared to meet it than I might have thought. With everything I went through in the last year and half or so in my personal life, I guess I grew a little. I feel a little older, and care less about that fact. I also feel younger in some ways, and that’s enjoyable. I have some interesting challenges ahead of me and am trying to run as fast as I can to keep up with them, all the while getting stronger for the journey ahead.

I do feel stronger. I know what I want out of life and am working harder in many ways to get it. I am accepting less general crap from life than I used to, and while it certainly isn’t my bitch, we have a better understanding of ourselves, me and life, and as long as life cuts me some slack now and again, I can respond better to the hills. And valleys.

There is a large woods behind my apartment, which, along with the free heat, are the two most important reasons why I stay in what’s essentially a basement apartment with no light, bad carpet, scratched linoleum and a cheap paint job. I had to sign a new lease, with just my name, and with that have asked for some things to be spruced up around here. I don’t know if they’ll agree, but as my Mom has always said, you don’t get anything unless you ask for it. Wise words.

I’m asking now. A lot. Of my friends, my family. I need to feel alive and I need the attention and the love and I want to share and socialize and do things I haven’t been able to do in a long time. This is part of my march uphill. Sometimes I cannot march. I’m paralyzed with fear, I’m despondently alone and wracked with guilt. I’m longing for the people in my life who are in my life but not here. Sometimes it’s hard being close with people who are spread all over the fucking continent.

One of my resolutions, and yes, I make them, is to try very hard to do more traveling this year. All continentally, as I don’t have the money or time to do a lot of flying, but there are people and places I want to go and see, destinations that would make a fine road trip. Maybe even drag that bony little boy with me. We journey to Wisconsin every summer to visit my sister, but that’s just not enough anymore, and there’s so much to see and do.

I’m actively pursuing more freelance writing work. I keep seeing opportunities present themselves and I’m throwing what I have at them. If I put enough irons in the fire, something will heat up. I look forward to finding out where. And a bit more writing for theater, and maybe I can get that novel written that’s been rattling around in my head since NaNoWriMo, which I could not do last year.

There’s a refresh already of old and new, or new-again friends. I’m finding there are a good number of people who kind of dig my company and I want to make those connections open wide, like a superhighway of love, bourbon, pork shoulder, hippie music and too-much eye makeup.

I’m dragging some people along with me up the hill. Some are behind me pushing me up. Some are ahead of me, dropping down a line and pulling me along. It’s a group effort, but it’s still my solo climb, and that’s fine with me.

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