Starting on the Right Foot (Blog #641)

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[Photo credit: Tom Wilmer]

It’s 9:36 PM on New Year’s Eve, there are fireworks going off outside, and I’m celebrating alone. This is somewhat by choice, somewhat just the way the cookie crumbled. This morning I had an offer to join some friends tonight, but the party was out-of-town, and attending would have required more in terms of time and effort than I could have given considering my present condition. (I had knee surgery last week.) So instead I’m here, alone, in front of my laptop, listening to Eva Cassidy. Eva’s always my go-to choice whenever I’m feeling sad/lonely/thoughtful/hopeful.

I guess today has been all right. Honestly, I hate the fact that there’s all this pressure to make holidays special. Because if you spend the day binge watching your latest favorite television series and eating pizza any other day of the year, well, that’s kind of fabulous. But do those things alone on a night when practically the entire world is out getting turnt, and–hum–that kind of sucks.

Oh well.

Of course, the big thing lately that has me down is my jacked-up knee. Tonight’s main photo came in on my email earlier from my friend and fellow travel writer Tom and was taken a couple months ago in Tennessee, back when I could bend both knees and didn’t think anything about it. Now I couldn’t squat like that to save my life. Hopefully no one puts a gun to my head and says, “CROUCH, asshole!” anytime soon. Anyway, today I noticed that my left knee (the one that was operated on) is quite bruised both above and below my kneecap. I don’t know, maybe the bruise is just coming to the surface. Or maybe today was the first time I got away from the yellow-tinted bulbs in my room and stood close enough to a sunlit window to notice it. Either way, it’s gross.

And it’s still difficult to stand up.

I know this will be the case for a while. This afternoon I went through my physical rehab exercises twice, and they’re quickly becoming part of my routine. (Who am I kidding? I don’t have a routine.) Anyway, I really don’t intend this blog to become The All About My Knee Report, but this is still fresh and has a lot of my emotional attention.

Like, all of it.

Earlier after finishing the Amazon Prime series Sneaky Pete (Season 2), I started to take a shower and do my final set of exercises. But then I figured that would put me blogging as the new year begins, and for whatever reason, I’d rather be doing something else. Granted, I do enjoy this–writing, blogging–most the time. But today marks one year and nine months of daily blogging (I started March 31, 2017), so I’m not even going to pretend that this isn’t work, sitting down every day, every damn day, and hacking away at the keyboard, soul-searching.

Come out, come out, wherever I am.

Since it’s been one year and nine months since I started this thing, today does indeed feel like a milestone worthy of fireworks. This project is something I’m profoundly proud of. Mostly because of how it’s changed me. Seriously, I could do without all the “first day of the new year” fanfare, but the fact that today is three months shy of two years of straight (well, continuous) blogging, that’s a big deal for me. In this light, I’m reminded that the things in our lives that impact us the most rarely happen at the stroke of midnight. Rather, they are the things we show up to and sit with day after day after day. So whether it’s this blog or my knee rehab, I’m telling myself that all I have to do is keep showing up in order to get the results I want.

Somehow, The Mystery will work its magic.

Now it’s 10:33 PM, and chances are if I finish this up and get right to the shower, I’ll either be doing my rehab exercises or brushing my teeth as 2018 comes to a close. And whereas I know I just said I don’t make a big deal out of these moments, clearly a part of me does. A part of me wishes I were at some lovely party, holding hands with my dear one. But that’s simply not the case this year, and I don’t have a dear one anyway. The last time I did on new year’s, we were at home hanging tile and–as I recall–fighting. We were always fighting, so surely we were that night too. Anyway, I’ll take rehab exercises or my toothbrush over that hell any day.

Everything’s relative.

As The Final Hour closes in, I’m glad that I’m alone. If this project has taught me anything, it’s that–at least most the time–I’m my own best company. I mean, I’m pretty funny. But seriously, I’ve learned that even when my feelings aren’t comfortable, I can sit with them, I can listen to them, and we can figure things out. Plus, I’m hoping for some wonderful things this coming year, so good that I have this time to reflect on what those things are and what my “next steps” could be. What are those things that I want to start or keep showing up to? What are those things I need to STOP showing up to? Yes, I’m starting this year on the right foot. I have to.

My left one doesn’t work anyway.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Healing requires letting go of that thing you can’t let go of.

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The Bigger Picture (Blog #276)

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Last night my sister, brother-in-law, and I continued to work on our latest puzzle, a 2000-piece situation of Cinque Terre, a famous tourist spot in Italy. We’d all been working on it throughout the day, but really dug in after dinner. After a few hours of consistent progress, my sister and brother-in-law turned in about eleven. I, on the other hand, worked until three in the morning. I guess I got sucked in. I kept telling myself, Just one more piece. Y’all, by the time I dragged myself to bed, I’d pretty much put in a full day’s worth of work.

If only I could get paid for this.

Today I feel overwhelmed. I’ve been worrying about all my little health issues, which–honestly–are minor. Since one thing leads to another, I’ve also been worrying about when I’ll finally get a “real job” and move out of my parents house. Today marks exactly nine months since I started the blog, which means I only have three months until I hit the one-year mark, and I guess I’m putting a lot of pressure on myself for something “great” to happen by that time. I realize this isn’t a reasonable thing to do. Honestly, I just feel out of control. I could use a break.

Since today is the last day of 2017, maybe I’m simply doing a lot of reflecting. This last year has looked nothing like what I thought it would. On the outside, I didn’t work in the traditional sense. Consequently I spent the year with fewer physical possessions than planned. I only bought one pair of shoes, and I still don’t own a belt. As my therapist says, I’m basically living like a college student. Also, I spent the year lonelier, at least in the fact that I ended a longtime relationship with one of my closest friends. This is something I haven’t blogged about and don’t intend to at this point, but obviously had an effect. Much like the car wreck I had several month ago, it left its scars. Ultimately, however, it was a good thing.

This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot today, the idea that experiences can be both painful and beneficial at the same time. I mean, this year has been a real kick in the pants in many respects, but I have gotten a lot out of it. This blog, for instance. For every challenge I’ve faced on the outside, this has been the place where I could work it out on the inside. And as for being lonely at times, this has been the place where I better learned to keep myself company, to be my own closet friend. Other good things have happened, of course. But today it seems that even positive changes are challenging, since they often turn your world upside down and require energy to adjust to. Maybe that’s what this last year has been–a big adjustment.

Now all I want to do is work on the puzzle. Honestly, it’s the best distraction, something that keeps me from focusing on my problems and, in the words of Emily Dickinson, going “down and down.” My sister and brother-in-law are on their way back from running around, and after we eat dinner, we plan to work on the puzzle to ring in the new year. I can’t think of a better place to be, with my family, back at the kitchen table. There I am able to focus. There I am able to be patient. There I can look at the bigger picture and trust that things are coming together, however slowly, one piece at a time.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can rise above. You can walk on water.

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