After the New Year turned over I shifted my focus inward and stopped worrying about keeping the world abreast of my situation. Aside from what I felt was a necessary update on the one year anniversary of my breakup, I stuck to this new mantra and kept to myself. Sometimes to my detriment, sure, but for the most part to great success. Admittedly (and before I knew it), autumn descended on Minneapolis; the sun went away, replaced by rainy days and cloudy skies, leaves turned amber and now yellow as they wash down the streets. And a so familiar yet so comforting cold starts seeping in through the walls.
I'm not sure what I want from the eighth iteration of this blog, but what I do know is that I want to use it more. I took the time I needed to get back to a center I had lost sight of, and that's great. Which direction do I want to move in now? I think the jury is still out on me and what my plans in life are, so in the next year I'd like to decide on my future. That's a big statement, pill, glass of water, whatever you want to call it. But I think a lofty goal is sometimes the best kind of goal, and I'm happy to apply myself to it.
For the music portion this time, I'm sharing "Loverboy" by Ryan Amador. Not necessarily for a specific lyric as I have in the past but because of how it makes me feel. It draws that nostalgia of love inside of me, for whatever purpose, and it makes me feel content. There's nothing wrong with a little contentment.
So thank you for sticking with me for seven years of these blogs, I hope they continue to get better and evolve right along with me. Maybe soon I'll post a progress blog on the house, but not too soon because that'll make me rush even more to get it done. I think I've earned a small break.
Ciao for now (c;
I read a book this summer by Emma Cline called "The Girls," and I'd taken a picture of a passage that really resounded with me. In regards to time, she wrote "it was a gift. What did I do with it? Life didn't accumulate as I'd once imagined. I graduated from boarding school, two years of college. Persisted through the blank decade in Los Angeles. I buried first my mother, then my father. His hair gone wispy as a child's. I paid bills and bought groceries and got my eyes checked while the days crumbled away like debris from a cliff face. Life a continuous backing away from the edge."
So without further adieu, may I present...
THE SEVEN YEAR ANNIVERSARY FOR
MUSINGS OF A
SELF-PROCLAIMED AUTHOR
Seven years ago when I started this blog seems like it was a world apart from me as I am now. I'd been prone to writing pieces that were just... bleh. Frustrated in one because I couldn't find inspiration, lamenting my inability in another to tell Jeff Kivi that I had a crush on him (ruh-oh, the truth comes out!), and whining because I couldn't turn my mind off at night. Then it turned to writing about a great date, subsequently a failed relationship, and then I kicked off what this blog would truly be with the mission of 26 Golden Things.
Parallels could be drawn between then and now... there was a lot of heartbreak between the words, bits of raw honesty that I was so afraid to put to paper back then. I grew more comfortable sharing that over the years, and I only say comfortable in the sense that I was more and more honest about it and how things affected me. Cutting through the baloney and not hiding behind the "I'm okay!" attitude I once did. I almost revel in that honesty now. There's nothing to be lost from honesty, only gained, and I ride that bike quite well. So far removed from friends and family back home, one starts to feel removed from an old life in general. And that removal makes me increasingly feel that I've got nothing to hide. It's liberating and scary at the same time.
Last year I wrote that my goal during the seventh iteration of my blog (i.e. life) was to get back to being simply happy. I think I've succeeded in that quest, maybe not in the way I'd have thought or even hoped, but life gets in the way sometimes. For the most part I am happy though, and I'll take that. Mission accomplished!
Parallels could be drawn between then and now... there was a lot of heartbreak between the words, bits of raw honesty that I was so afraid to put to paper back then. I grew more comfortable sharing that over the years, and I only say comfortable in the sense that I was more and more honest about it and how things affected me. Cutting through the baloney and not hiding behind the "I'm okay!" attitude I once did. I almost revel in that honesty now. There's nothing to be lost from honesty, only gained, and I ride that bike quite well. So far removed from friends and family back home, one starts to feel removed from an old life in general. And that removal makes me increasingly feel that I've got nothing to hide. It's liberating and scary at the same time.
Last year I wrote that my goal during the seventh iteration of my blog (i.e. life) was to get back to being simply happy. I think I've succeeded in that quest, maybe not in the way I'd have thought or even hoped, but life gets in the way sometimes. For the most part I am happy though, and I'll take that. Mission accomplished!
Everyone has a chapter in life they don't want to read aloud, and maybe this last year became mine. It wasn't for fear of not wanting to broadcast anything, I just had nothing to say as I tried to figure out my situation. I was so focused on myself, so turned inward, that the thought of writing it all down was lost on me. I look at my house and everything I've done in the four short months since I purchased it and I'm astounded. I'm also annoyed, because I didn't take nearly as many progress pictures as I should have, but I digress. Life is what happens when you're not looking, and only in hindsight do I see what happened this year.
Keeping my head down wasn't necessarily a bad thing, as it allowed me to get to where I wanted to be on the house. I've painted every single wall and ceiling in the place (leaving a lot of baseboards to paint over the winter), replaced every light fixture, outlet and cover. Keeping my head down allowed me to finish writing the first draft of my fourth novel (and grand finale of The Onyxus Chronicles), something I did not anticipate happening but there it was. You see, focusing inward and on myself meant that I started doing the things I always loved doing.
Creating.
I had the time of my life this summer turning my house around. Some people marvelled at the workhorse I became, how much time and energy I put into my projects, but I loved it. I loved slapping that black paint on the living room walls and tearing out the kitchen ceiling and running that roller of flat white paint over the final stretch of ivory high-gloss on the ceiling. I got to play with the things I've accumulated over the years, shifting my taste in decor from amateur to higher end. And as far as the book goes, finally writing the conclusion to a story I started 18 years earlier? Heartbreaking and astounding and exhilarating. I felt like I had found my voice again, and that I was more than just the sum of my parts and what happened to me in the past. I got back to me and what drove me.
Creating.
I had the time of my life this summer turning my house around. Some people marvelled at the workhorse I became, how much time and energy I put into my projects, but I loved it. I loved slapping that black paint on the living room walls and tearing out the kitchen ceiling and running that roller of flat white paint over the final stretch of ivory high-gloss on the ceiling. I got to play with the things I've accumulated over the years, shifting my taste in decor from amateur to higher end. And as far as the book goes, finally writing the conclusion to a story I started 18 years earlier? Heartbreaking and astounding and exhilarating. I felt like I had found my voice again, and that I was more than just the sum of my parts and what happened to me in the past. I got back to me and what drove me.
That quote from "The Girls" resounded with me because... for me at least... it draws up so many images of regret. That I'm wasting my time, or that I'm just keeping my nose down too much. It conjures the fear that eventually I'm going to look up and it won't just be autumn, but that it'll be autumn and I'll be 50 years old and wondering why I never made the changes to my life I thought so much about. Those changes range from ridiculous to simple, from quitting my job and selling everything and moving to another country to just exist and see how it goes... to just making more of a plan on finances and how to proceed more cautiously, planning for the future and what the responsibility of doing so means.
I'm not sure what I want from the eighth iteration of this blog, but what I do know is that I want to use it more. I took the time I needed to get back to a center I had lost sight of, and that's great. Which direction do I want to move in now? I think the jury is still out on me and what my plans in life are, so in the next year I'd like to decide on my future. That's a big statement, pill, glass of water, whatever you want to call it. But I think a lofty goal is sometimes the best kind of goal, and I'm happy to apply myself to it.
For the music portion this time, I'm sharing "Loverboy" by Ryan Amador. Not necessarily for a specific lyric as I have in the past but because of how it makes me feel. It draws that nostalgia of love inside of me, for whatever purpose, and it makes me feel content. There's nothing wrong with a little contentment.
So thank you for sticking with me for seven years of these blogs, I hope they continue to get better and evolve right along with me. Maybe soon I'll post a progress blog on the house, but not too soon because that'll make me rush even more to get it done. I think I've earned a small break.
Ciao for now (c;
