I love this painting because it represents all that we are in winter: quietly wild until the snow melts; emblazoned with the crests of our inner-animals, no matter how many layers we hide under; quick to redefine ourselves in the new year, quick to greet change with a discernible side-eye.
Humans. We’re so predictable.
Fact: I was quarantined for the better half of this past week due to sickness and snow. I took my two days off of blogging all at once, opting instead to talk to my roommate’s cat and read long outdated editions of People magazine. Terrifying; the rate at which a functional eccentric person like myself manifests into the likes of Edie Bouvier Beale. Furthermore, Elmer knows all my secrets now. You keep away from us, Albert Maysles, you hear?
I could tell you all that my unplanned bout of me-and-only-me-time has re-instilled in me an eagerness to join the world and take part in all of its perpetual doings — that’s a half-truth. Here’s the whole truth: my recent time alone has only reinforced that this year, I’d like to be a little more intentional about the perpetual doings that I engage in. What I mean is this: constantly wringing my hands and my heart out over work or unsupportive relationships or the twenty nine dollars in my checking account leaves me frazzled and gasping… so those pastimes are out. Daily happy hours don’t make me happy. “Raging” every night doesn’t even sound appealing to my peaceful ears. There are only twenty four hours in a day (ask Kiefer Sutherland if you don’t believe me) and I’d like to spend them mindfully supporting my goals and following whatever glitters for me.
So. Rather than regularly allowing myself to be swept up in everyone else’s idea of fun, I gots some plans for how I want to be involved in my friendships and my community as I go forth into old lady-hood. Here goes:
1. Get down in the club. Craft Club, that is. Or Bread Bakers Anonymous. Or Read A Book, See the Bastardized Movie Version of that Book Club. I am blessed with a bounty of brilliant, creative kindreds. Additionally, I like to make things, learn things, talk some feminist smack. My ladies have been plotting for a while now: the time to be soulfully social is now. Promise I’ll keep you in the loop.
2. Introduce you to my pals. Now that RG is one whole year old, I’m hoping to recruit some new voices for an interview series. If I’m getting a little tired of the Rose Show, I can’t imagine how you all must feel… plus I want to brag about how fabulous my friends are! I’m thinking it will be called the Boss-Ass B*tch Series (thanks, Po’!). I have some mega-inspiring ladies in mind, but if you want to nominate anybody, email me and I’ll reach out to them!
3. Carve out enough time between working, writing and loving everyone in my life to become a Logan Square institution. I’ve written before about the sense of community here, and that bohemian bond becomes more and more obvious to me every day. I want to keep volunteering for the Comfort Station. I want to plant begonias in our community garden. I want to sell wheat grass shots at the Farmers Market. I want to suck it up and pay the membership dues to join our Co-op. All perfectly noble desires, I think. I want. I want. I want.
What it comes down to is this: time is a resource. As much as I’d love to float on the wind, always trusting in the Universe… sometimes that damn wind blows me places I don’t care to be. Adulthood is such a balancing act between faith, flexibility and control — making choices about who you want to be, how you plan to become that person, and then following your own guidelines… following whatever glitters for you. It’s all terribly exciting. It can also just be terrible… but we don’t have time to focus on that.
Love you guys. What plans are you proposing this year? If you only clicked on this because the world “Proposal” was in the title, I gotcha good BOYS DROOL. Truesdale out.