Thursday, November 12, 2015

On Journeys (Or; Go, Guy, Go...)

It's November.

That means it's National Novel Writing Month, and due to the glorious torture that is committing to NaNoWriMo, I don't usually blog much/at all during November. Because if I'm going to spend my time putting words together in a way that makes sense, I'm going to make sure they count toward that 50,000, damn it.

But I'm having a moment. Naturally, that means all planning and logic have gone out the proverbial window, and here we are.

See, this also happens to be my last evening as a 28 year-old.

Full disclosure, I'm 100% obsessed with my birthday. Not in a gross everybody-pay-attention-to-me-and-shower-me-with-gifts-all-day-yes-thnx way. I just really, really dig being alive. It's pretty much my favorite. I love having a reason to get friends together in one place and just celebrate being, and I'm going to stand by that forever, no matter how much of an internet hippie it makes me.

I also love the ritual - the bowing out of the year that was and the ushering in of the year that will be. I try to go out with a few new things and adventures. Ditto for kicking things off.

As it happens, I'm kicking 29 off in Disneyland, where I'll be spending the weekend running two races. On purpose. For fun?

Take a minute for that. I still am, and I signed up for this months ago. I'm not sure when I decided birthday meant, "Physical Challenge!" (bummed already that there are probably those amongst you too young for the reference), but there it is. A friend of mine sent a message of encouragement this morning that was simply, "Go, guy, go!" What else is there to say, besides, "Don't destroy your bod, crazy!"

I've been saying, "I really don't do things like this," except I guess I do now. With increasing regularity, actually.

If you've lurked around this digital space of mine even a little bit over the past three years or so, then you know that I've been on a journey of sorts. There have been major highs, crushing lows, and a lot of little victories and setbacks that haven't necessarily warranted documentation. Not here, anyway.

And this...man, I hate the word journey. Really, I do. It feels so lofty. This, let's say, "ongoing whatever," of mine...it's changed me. In every way possible. I'm stronger and braver and smarter. I don't spray anger everywhere they way that I did for a while - which is not to say that I have the perfect temper, but I'm doing my best while striving for better. I'm not owned by fear - not all the time, anyway. Not in the same way. I'm still working on that too.

That's the thing of it, you know. I don't think I realized it when I started, not really, but the ongoing whatever...it's always going to be ongoing. I'll always be working. And it is bitter work sometimes - soulless, joyless, painful, and so very far from fair.

But the idea of stopping now that I've got momentum...it's not an option. If I'm being honest, the idea of giving up and holding still again is actually more frightening than any unknown challenge that most assuredly lies ahead. Because now I know how much better things can get. That's not to say that I can't be present and happy with what is. Far from it - but, "what is," has to be looked after, then built upon as it becomes, "what was." We are the sum of our parts and experiences, right? Puzzle pieces.

Last day of 28, and when I look in the mirror, I see a version of myself that is puzzle pieces finally come together: the love of family and friends, the support and advice of teachers and mentors, the foundation of self-care, the messy bits - failures and frustrations and heartbreaks. The process - the assembly - makes more and more sense all the time. All of that...it made a thing. A me.

And she never wants to stop going, to stop working, to stop moving.

Guess that's growing up.

Go, guy.

Go.

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