In light of the threatening new year and the promises still locked up in that scary vault I figure it's time for some public new years' resolutions of sorts. Mine are simple; I wish to simplify. I'm so often guilty of being so many things for so many reasons, but this year I want to be easy like a Sunday morning. I have 17 solemn vows to help hold up that are whispering in another place (hidden like so many places are these days) and three things for me - one holding those seventeen. Was that a mess? I suspect it was, oh well. Shit on you for making me cryptic. I guess I could tuck tail, but I'm not that type.
- Love. Recovery. Patience. Some presence of mind that tells me that this is it and I'm truly enjoying this. I read once in a book by, I think, Paul Theroux, that the hard thing is knowing when you're happy while you're happy. This is it. Keep it in mind, Kev.
- I write. That's the big thing. Sure I play. I practice to play and to have the vocabulary to better write, but essentially I write. I'm trying to remember this and cultivate the presence of mind that tells me that this is it and I'm ultimately rewarded in some real significant way by this. I get lost in practice and preparing for the things I'm not doing. It's an excuse. Sure, Kev, sell it, take it out and throw it at unwilling recipients, humiliate yourself for not being better at it, but fucking do it.
- What pays me does excite me and I can't somehow forsake the presence of mind that tells me that this is it and I'm not going to ever find a home like this in a workplace. I can spend 8 or more hours in a place every day and hate it or love it. We have a choice in that. It's easy. I can spend that time getting by or getting better. I can be adequate or excellent and I know what I want of all these choices. It's easy for all of them.