Mixed Bag

 

Usually the end of the year is a pretty fun time for me. I love the holidays and the cooking and the eating and the laughing and all around making jolly stuff. A week of happy absent-mindedness follows and then the new year sort of mosies on in – like a new pair of comfy slippers you slide into. Then I start the traditional de-cluge and start chucking accumulated junk, clothes that don’t fit or I never wear, knick knacks that are weird, old socks, dustballs, furballs, this, that and so on. The purge feels good, and it goes nicely with the taking down the tree and putting away all the Christmas stuff routine. Then I start to make plans – what do I want to accomplish in the new year? What do I want to try? Who do I want to meet? Where do I want to go? Stuff like that.

However, this year has not been like that. It kicked off in a sort of rocky fashion and really it’s been rough waters for pretty much the whole ride. It started off asking for a raise and getting a token one – big disappointment but I managed to live with it. Constant attempts at diets that just didn’t go anywhere but the back of my mind to nag me. A lot of shifts in relationships – some good, some bad. A lot of the ‘usual’ activities carried on with my friends didn’t happen. We saw less of each other – busy lives, other things and responsibilities to attend to, shit happens. Roomie was laid off and even though it didn’t happen to me, I still felt the sting of it in a thousand different, tiny little ways – and I even got a bit depressed about it. Zelda, my usual comrade in adventure was otherwise engaged between work and caring for a friend who had suddenly taken ill. The company I work for started to tumble and is tumbling still – which may not seem like a big deal to many but I’d worked very hard to market the company and get its revenue up and had succeeded (hence the request for a raise) and then it all went to shit. I honestly don’t know where we’re going from here. The little voice tells me to get another job – and perhaps that is what will happen – but when you invest that much effort and creativity in something it hurts to see it go by the wayside.

I also started blogging. At a friend’s urging. I didn’t think I’d like it and was surprised to discover I did – and how. There were times, honestly, no lie, when the only thing I had to look forward to was blogging. To see comments from readers, to see my hit stats increasing and increasing. In a strange way, it got me through some very depressed moments. For that, I thank you, Michael and you, readers. Obviously, I couldn’t have done it without you and no matter what happens in the future it’s been a helluva ride and a delight by and large.

The other byproduct of this year is that I find I’ve been doing a lot more thinking that I usually do – I suppose part of it is because of the blogging because you’re always looking at what you’re going to post next – you’re more engaged in the thought process of life I suppose because of it. But it was also what has been happening in the world this last year – politically speaking, it’s been brutal to the point that I can sometimes barely stand to read any news. So much hatred and vitriole spewed this way and that. So much stupidity and lack of care from people in general. Efforts to essentially outlaw religion, rename Christmas and turn our government into the evil, maniacal machine – whilst fellows like Chavez for example is some great humanitarian. Turns my stomach. And made me seriously worry about what will happen to our world if we don’t wake up and do something.

So, I’d have to say this year has been a mixed bag and the new year coming seems to be a mystery bag in the making. I don’t know the course the ship is going to take – but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe if I let the ship guide me the adventure will be a delightful surprise. I sure hope so.

Happy New Year everybody. It’s been a pleasure meeting and knowing every one of you. I thank you for the pleasure of your company, your comments, your insights and your humor. A completely unanticipated but much appreciated gift.

Much love,

WC

What I Don’t Say

I care too much. That is my problem.

Whether it’s about minor problems with my car – or the pain and suffering of people I don’t know.

Passion some might call it. Emotionalism could be another name. Intensity. Volatility. Sensitivity. Any of these fit – truth be told.

Of course I try not care, which doesn’t work anyway. No matter how much I tell myself it doesn’t matter to me, it does.

It’s the way I am wired.

And my biggest fear is that there is no other half to me. That I am a broken piece that cannot be fixed.