new years cause me to inhale slowly and exhale nostalgia; then panic sets in because what did i really do last year and what i am really doing this year and can it already be (insert whatever year it actually is) and is it time to die already.
yesterday was the lunar new year, and i experienced the same feelings of reflection and endless possibilities — followed by chest-tightening fear that life is not a game anymore: i don’t care enough to keep score, so my chances of winning expired long ago. spectators have moved on to younger, more hopeful prospects and people who value currency in the form of human spawn. what are my experiences, really, but a just another lap around a deserted board game with dusty dice and tipped over sand timer?
this morning over genmai cha, i reviewed my scribbly notes from a mary kay event yesterday. the dichotomy of my state of mind splayed before me: how can my heart swirl in sunrises while my hands routinely claw out my grave in cold ground? i cannot continue with my misalignment and expect to succeed in 2017. affirmations of united mind, heart, and actions are my goal in the coming year, as i acknowledge that 2016 was an exploratory year for me; i reached new milestones in my identity.
2016 was an inside job. before i welcome a new year, let me share a few tidbits from the last 365+ days to appease the sentimentalist in me.
walla walla in winter
to 2017: the year i start winning.