Cut it out, restart


I see so much change on the horizon for me in 2016. I’m nervous and excited. I’m afraid ,but also crave it. I know how hard I’m going to have to work, how much I’m going to have to push to forge the new year’s path and I’m trying to ready myself for it and whatever it may bring.

2015 has been an incredibly tumultuous year in more ways than I could have ever imagined. I feel this year was a crash landing, with me checking everywhere to see if anything was broken, and then healing from whatever cracked under the strain. Now I’ve got my backpack on and I’m moving forward to find a way out of the wreckage, never to return.

All of that is very vague of course, and I don’t mean to be cryptic, but rather to convey that the new year is a good time to re-assess, re-examine and reset your goals, dreams, hopes, wishes, plans, whatever. I want to do this. I am doing it. I have to. Next year at this time, I cannot be – in every way – in the same place as I am in my life this year. What goals are you setting for yourselves, my friends? Are you satisfied with where you are, who is in your life, how you spend your time?

I see why they call it a mid-life “crisis” now. It really feels like a crisis. Like things must change, have to shift, in order for me to proceed onward. Even if you don’t know and can’t control everything that’s ahead. I can’t waste time any more on people or activities that don’t work for me (or my son). I want to be happy, I want less stress, I want to enjoy more — a LOT more, and worry less. I know I have the capacity, intelligence and drive to make all that happen.

Now comes the work.

Christmas is a little over a week away. A full moon on Christmas, which hasn’t happened since 1977. I was 8 then, and had no idea I was living inside a lie. That my Mother was unhappy and married to someone who could at times be a monster. That she had a child, a half sibling of mine who was thousands of miles away, growing up with another family, who I wouldn’t know about for 20 more years. That the extended family members who kissed me, bought me Christmas presents, squeezed my cheeks would one day collaborate in an effort to destroy my life, make fun of me, and then never speak to me again. I was young and all I knew was I loved vacations at the beach and my TV shows and my multicolored t-shirt that said “drip” on it. My goals for the next year were to finally get my own Jim Rice baseball card, to kiss a boy, and to run faster than anyone else at school. And I got all those things done, so what am I waiting for?



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