Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Resolutions, Sonic Screwdrivers and New Years

The last day of 2013 has come and gone. Already I have caught the first rays of light peaking over the horizon in this new year. 2014. How can this be, you ask.

I live in the future.

I am often asked by friends and family what the future holds, how the weather is in the future, or if the world still exists in the future. I rise to their antics because secretly it's my nerdy desire to somehow live in my own futuristic, sci-fi world.

Many of us are looking to the future today and falling into the trap of new years resolutions. Promising that this year will be different, that this year we won't fail. Really... we all know that we'll last a week or two, maybe others will be strong enough to last a month or maybe even three. And there's a very small percentage that will last almost the whole year. To them I say "Well done."

But how many of us can say we stuck to our resolutions for the whole year?

Do new years resolutions only lead to deferred hopes?

What are resolutions really anyway?
Resolution
rɛzəˈluːʃ(ə)n/
1. a firm decision to do or not to do something.
2. the quality of being determined or resolute.
google dictionary
Hmmm. I think we've forgotten what resolution really means or at least forgotten how to stick to our word when we make a New Years Resolution. I know reading googles definition definitely makes me pause for a moment and reconsider. 

Resolutions are serious business. 

In my last day of 2013 I was inspired to do many things, so badly wanting to make great New Years Resolutions. There's something about a clean slate. A New Year that kindles hope for new determination so I started making a mental list, but now, seeing what resolution really means, I fear I may not have what it takes to actually call my list New Years Resolutions. Maybe I'll call it a Wish List instead...
  • write a gripping screenplay
  • shoot said gripping screenplay
  • maybe even act and produce said gripping screenplay
  • play the piano again, maybe even take some lessons
  • take voice lessons and start writing songs again
  • restring my guitar so I can start writing said songs
  • finish my novels
  • get into shape, maybe even take dance lessons
  • read through the whole bible
  • visit my family
  • travel to new places
It's a good list. I like my list.

However, when I step back and look at the logistics of doing ALL of that in one year. I know I may be shooting for the stars. I mean I do have three hundred and sixty-five days to do these things, but am I reaching too high? Probably.

I'm glad I called it a wish list.

Here's the thing. I'm thirty years old. Time is ticking by faster and faster every year. It's no joke kids, time really does move faster the older you get. I always thought it was a joke. It's not. I'm not even sure what happened to most of 2013! Time is precious and we've got no Time Machine to turn it back. No Crown DeLorean.

I want to do more.

So... how do we keep pushing forward? How do we hold on to our new years resolutions and find ourselves still living them out at the end of 2014? I wish I had some sci-fi gadget, like a sonic screwdriver that held the answer and fixed this plot hole, where I could press a button and all of us would live the life we desire.

Happily Ever After.

But I don't have a sonic screwdriver.

Here's what I do know. Happily Ever After's are a lot of hard work. All my favorite stories are full of difficult roads, darkness, pain and heart ache. This is what I have to keep in mind if I want to still be living out my wish list at the end of 2014.

This is why I have to call the list my New Years Resolutions.

What does that mean I have to look forward to? Three hundred and sixty-five days of Hard, Difficult and Pain.

The birds are beginning to wake in this new world, lifting up joyous melodies, inviting the first rays of light to turn away the night and welcome in the day. It's easy to look at Hard, Difficult and Pain and say it sounds exciting. I love and crave the adventure they promise. Living it out on the other hand is a lot more difficult. I'll probably fail, but I've got Batman's dad to remind me that we fall so that we can get back up. I think its time to start taking steps towards my Resolutions.

Even if I fail or fall. I just have to get back up and thankfully, I've got the best Dad in the world to pick me back up again and again and again.

Happy New Years everyone!


Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Be brave like the Snowbell

It thrives in cold climates. Lives in rocky, wet places. Prefers to be up high. On a mountain where the snow stays longest. Harsh conditions are best. Where it's strongest. Toughest.

Sounds romantic doesn't it? It's not.

It's lonely, cold. Harsh. The reality of this awesome place takes your breath away in its majestic beauty, but it also rips you apart. Bruises. Batters. Yet this is where, if you're brave, you find a small, delicate, violet flower. A Snowbell.

Snowbells grow under the snow. Imagine a domed roof of crystal. Sounds enchanting. Magical. It's incubated. Living in a warm haven from the cold world outside. Safe. But it doesn't stay there. It pushes through its protective palace. To blossom. To reveal its hidden beauty.

I first learn about this little flower just days before my mom calls with news that brings quick tears to my eyes. My beloved, loving aunt has passed away... For four days I hid in my house, watching what my housemate calls "depressing" movies. I'm caught off guard when she says that. To me they are deep and inspiring stories. I reluctantly pull back and examine them. They are depressing. All the films I choose are about eccentric, dysfunctional families. Where someone dies and the rest try to figure out how to keep going after their loved ones are gone.

This is how I process. I watch movies that remind me of my wonderful, quirky family. I cry with the characters as they learn how to say goodbye because, the truth is, I can't be with my family. I'm half way across the world from them.

I hate goodbyes.

I hate harsh realities.

But a little, purple flower keeps slapping me in the face.

Life is a lot like a Snowbell. Only I never feel quite ready to break into the cold world. There are moments I think I'm brave. Think that I'll push forward. But its a lot harder than I imagine. My aunt is gone and now there's a big hole.

I mourn. But not for her. She's in a better place. She's pain free and experiencing real life. She's pushed through the last snowflake domed roof this life can throw at her.

Her beauty is no longer hidden.

It's revealed.

I want to be like her and the Snowbell.

I can't join her. She's gone where I cannot follow. At least not right now. But I can and must use the hard things life throws at me to grow. I must push through life's snow domed impossibilities. Like saying goodbye. I realize I haven't made my heart public yet. My family has filled the pages of Facebook with their heart. I can't. It's not safe and all the words in the world feel empty and hollow. I can say I love her, it's true. I can say that I miss her. That I hurt for the family she leaves behind. It's all true but the words still feel void. Just like the emptiness I feel knowing I'll never hug her again. Never again hear her familiar, wonderful laughter. Laughter that tells me I am home. That I am with my family.

But I'm trying to be like my aunt. And like the Snowbell.

I must be vulnerable and brave.

Even when brick walls try to smother my progress. I must live. Really live. So here's my heart. It hurts. I'm confused. I miss my family. I miss my aunt... I remember she once bought me a thick, red towel. I remember she talked funny when she said "I love you, Cari". I remember she took me to Casa Bonita and the movies. I remember when she got excited about the plays she was in. I remember singing in the car with her and my cousins. I remember when she let herself be vulnerable in front of me and cried. I remember she opened her car by putting the remote under her chin. It always made me laugh. Seems silly that this is what I remember most. That silly remote. But it's real and the memories bring fresh pain. Just like the icy cold the Snowbell must feel the first time the bud pushes against the snow dome.

Letting the pain in doesn't feel good, but it's healthy. How else does the Snowbell reveal its bright royal colors? How else do we learn to really laugh?

And joy comes in the morning. I know it. The glorious sun shines down on the Snowbell and keeps it warm. The bright light causes the snow to sparkle. The Comforter stands next to my family. Next to me. I can release the pain and let the beauty in. I can laugh again.

My family is all together today, celebrating the life of my aunt. I wish I was there, but I'm still half way across the world. I hear the funeral was wonderful. Heart-warming. I'm not surprised. She was an amazing, loving woman. A great mother and wife. A wonderful aunt. I hear its snowing there now. Filling that world with wonderful, clean snow. How miraculous. My aunt. The Snowbell. Adorned with diamond jewels of crystalline snow.

No longer hidden.

Fully revealed.