As the year ends

“There are years that ask questions, and years that answer. -Zora Neale Hurston

I don’t know who Zora was, but I like that quote. When I saw it a few weeks ago, I thought “yes, this year asked a lot of questions, and I hope 2014 answers them.” And then I thought about it some more and was reading back over my end of 2012 thoughts and I realized that actually, 2013 answered a lot of questions that 2012 had asked. It’s just taken some looking back to notice that.

It was a roller coaster of a year. There were a lot of ups, but there were a lot of really deep downs too. To quote one of my closest friends, Nicole, who said this recently in an email, “Life is a serious bitch sometimes. It’s worth it all and has some really fantastic stuff, but it hurts like hell.” That’s pretty much how I feel about 2013. John Green also has some words I like: “Maybe there’s something you’re afraid to say, or someone you’re afraid to love, or somewhere you’re afraid to go. It’s gonna hurt. It’s gonna hurt because it matters.”

2013 mattered. I had no idea what it was going to hold, and it blew me away at times, both in joy and in pain. But it mattered. I am not the same person now as it ends as I was when it started, and I’m betting most of you would say the same thing about yourself.

What it held, for me, in a nutshell: Some kick-ass times with friends, all throughout the year. Travels. Really great conversations. Seeing and spending time with my old roommate, seeing Eastern Montana and North Dakota. I surprised my parents and showed up in GA on the 4th of July and ultimately got to see them 3 times this year since I was also there in February and then cruised to the Bahamas with them in October. I visited with my brother and sister in law twice. I had some amazingly perfect conversations with my niece and nephew. I saw my oldest and dearest friend and got wrapped around the little fingers of both of her children. Later in the year I cried with and for her as her dad almost died and then rejoiced with her when he survived. I inherited a best-friend-in-law when David married the man he loves and I had more fun being a part of that than can be described. I gained a few more friends through that time as well. I saw New York City as an adult (the last time I was there was 8th grade). There was some hiking and some snowshoeing. I quit running (but that’s not a forever quit). I made some really tough choices. I made a few desperately needed changes, and some others came about more as a consequence of the intentional ones. Some of those are still being worked on. Closure came about in two situations that needed it, both very different, both very difficult, one of which I’m still healing from. I barely scratched the surface of some goals and dreams. There was a promotion at work and most days that is a good thing. I read a lot of good books and watched a lot of good TV and movies, along with some not quite as good. I saw Mumford and Sons in concert for the 2nd time and loved it as much as the first. I wrote. And I made plans to write more. I made a blanket for a precious little boy who peed on me the first time we met. I cried, a lot. But I also laughed a lot. I talked about a lot of books with really intelligent women. I drank a beer in the shower one incredibly hot summer afternoon and it was perfect and for some reason many of my friends find it to be both hilarious and wonderful and so I thought it should make this end of the year post. My library fine was paid off by Alisha for my birthday. I wore a funny hat and sold Christmas trees. I lived out of two places at the same time as I prepare to move in a few weeks (more on that later). I made a lot of lists. I wrote quite a few letters. 2013 was busy.

Usually I make a list of to-dos for the next year. And they are pretty specific. Honestly, I’m not in a place where I think I can do that for 2014. I don’t want a list to check off or to fail in completing, even though there are already some ideas on a list in my head. For right now, I just want to think about the not-so-specific-things that I am fairly certain will go on.

I will listen to more music. I will watch more TV and movies, and maybe I’ll go see a show or two. I will read, a lot, and I will talk about those books with others. I will write. I will have opinions that sometimes get shared and sometimes do not. I will sing out loud when a song I like comes on in the car and I am alone, and maybe even if I am not alone. I will dance to music that is playing when I am at home. I will dream and I will pray and I will search and I will think deeply. I will go to work and do the best job that I can. I will cook and bake and eat out. I will love with all that I have and I will work on forgiveness more and more. These are the things that are not on a 2014 to-do list as they don’t have to be.

2013 was hard and beautiful and difficult and lovely and it was worth it. 2014 is a fresh start, a new beginning, and holds a lot of potential. I’m excited to see what it holds.

See you next year!

2013-2014

The Color of Hunger

I know the hunger to escape, often found in the grey-white pages of a beloved novel. Or the hunger for peace, relieved in the quiet white of a snow capped mountain. I’ve seen a hunger for intimacy, unsatisfied in a little red car that could so easily spin out of control. I’ve felt a hunger for community and sought it out where a woman in rose colored tights preached to a vast room not even close to being filled. I’ve encountered the hunger to be connected across thousands of miles in two shades of blue and two shades of pink, and weeks of work on hand made blankets. I have never known true hunger for food, but I’ve seen it in the grey and withered hands of the old woman who took the bag of garbage from me before I could throw it away, in a poor and desperate country. I’ve observed a hunger to convey what only music truly can, in the dim yellow lights from two lamps on a darkened stage, where one of the world’s most accomplished mandolin players brings Bach to life in a way that is only understood by hearing. I know of the hunger to be remembered, wrapped up in a green and brown scarf. I discovered a hunger to be dancing and free in a little black dress and silver shoes. The hunger to be wanted has shown up in too many shades of blue to name. I’ve seen the satisfied hunger to be married to the one you love, in a white jacket and purple tie. I have dug deep into the hunger to be understood in the black of a keyboard or a brown notepad. I’ve heard of the hunger to make a profound change in one’s life, taking the shape of an orange anatomy textbook. The hunger for a stronger faith has lately been rearing its head in clear, salty tears. Soon I will bake a brown and orange cake, to celebrate a friend’s quenched hunger for finality. Every day this time of year, I am hungry for hope when I see the red and yellow leaves on the trees. But I am, now, today, yesterday and tomorrow, hungry, starving, for closure, and the only thing I see is black and white, which are both the absence of color, and all of them mixed together.

(This is an original piece written by me, the author of this blog. It cannot be used without my permission)