I am determined.
I’m not even 2 days into this year, and already it’s like breathing new air. Sure we’re all hopeful and fresh and new January 1, and sure, it always looks pretty around here, prettiest even, just before the snow falls in buckets like someone just dumped a pile of manure of Tim’s head, but still…
I feel like I left all the bad things in last year, cast off unwanted. The anger, the disappointment, all the bad moves and roads I walked last year-left behind, with this year devoted to finding the roads I truly want to walk on. I sit talking with a new friend who tells me even she believes and feels I’m on the right path, and my body screams YES!, even while it delicately eats greasy food and nods. Inside a small girl dances and breaks into song, stretches her arms and feels, for the first time in years and years, space.
There’s a person I want to be, a woman I saw glimpses of when I tried looking past my own nose and into my future. She’s warm and loving, she curious and interested, her eyes full of laughter and joy. Her home is warm and welcoming, full of food and books and music and love. Her arms are full of children, and possibly, blessed with the love of someone who looks at her and feels settled, in their place too. Someday, she’ll see the sunrise over Ankor Wat, and she’ll smile. The walls of her house are all the colors of the gumballs in that machine near Zellers. She sings herself to sleep.
But dammit, I think she’s already reaching out inside of me, rattling her cage and demanding that she and that little girl, the one who sings, be set free. She’s here!
She always was.
I sat on her, I silenced her, I tried to mold her into some idea I had, some wisp of desire someone else had. Now, freed of the monkeys of expectation and protection, there’s a stretch and a rip and she’s there, and desperately wants to breathe and feel beautiful and smart and wanted.
Rebirth, of a sort. I’m just caught in the caul, that’s all.