It’s May and I’m making couple portraits and raw brownies and tiny paintings on tiny canvasses with tiny easels and peanut butter banana granola and dents in all the freelance articles. I’m also making messes; I’m making discoveries, and today I’d like to make a point.
If you’ve been a longtime reader, you’ve sensed this year that something’s been up. And you’re right — we’re less than a third of the way into 2014 but I’ve tearfully started over — armed only with the unwanted wisdom one acquires through perpetually surviving those unrelenting cycles of frustration and defeat that we hapless humans usually stumble upon when we try to honor ourselves — over and over and over again. And sure, I’m a little bit pummeled and chewed up. My guts are bruised and fermenting fruit, missing lateral incisor-shaped chunks wherever the Universe has torn off a piece of me. I’ve spent more money on Anthropologie candles and Two Buck Chuck than is fitting for a person who has no money, and I’ve been violently oscillating between two character tropes: “girl who goes out all the time and subsists on attention and whiskey sodas” and “girl who sees only her roommate and her roommate’s cat and doesn’t own shampoo.”
Yet I can say, and every filament of my battered being will flutter in agreement, that this year has been invaluable.
The number one takeaway from all of my travails is this: I will be fine. And that, friends, is the foundation we all need to live, really live: to take risks; to give people the benefit of the doubt; to remain positive despite one’s tentative position as crap receptacle for the cosmos. Because I know that deep within my soft and rotten intestines, there hums resilience — I can take the sh*tty and continue to expect the extraordinary. I can trust myself to carry on, despite adversity, and so I can trust in the unknown. I can handle bad news — with expensive candles and cheap wine, maybe — but I can handle it, nonetheless.
And it’s in this way, this evermore fearless way, that I’m gradually making something of myself.