My Own Light

I used to think that streetlights would only go out around me. That I had some sort of uncanny depressive ability where things would dim in my presence. That I had some sort of weird magical negative power where things would just sort of "not happen" around and to only me. That lights going out meant that I didn't have a light within myself. Of course, now I know that's simply not the case. That streetlights dim around everyone, and that sometimes we just notice because we are us.

My dad has continued to say that we all have a "horrible case of uniqueness." Everyone bemoans from one time or another "why me?!" "Why am I different?" "Why does everyone else have what I want for myself?" Really, is the grass always greener, brighter, better, cooler, more fun, more awesome, than what we have? That our uniqueness of being ourselves is somehow this shitty burden that each of us have to bear.

Now, two days after the horrible apocalypse of the end of the Mayan Calendar (ha!) and 2013 staring us full on in the face, maybe some hope can peer through the cracks in the clouds that are clearing that was 2012? What a fucked up year I thought this was. I really did. I lost my job, I gained some weight I had fought so hard to lose, I thought shit had really hit the fan. But, when peering back over my shoulder of this year, I really did get everything I had wanted. Both of my big New Year's Resolutions for 2012 had come true. Magic did happen.

As I'm aging I'm learning who it is that I am and what I truly want. I never knew in my 20's that I'd love a good surprise in my 30's. That being shocked to my core would be something that I'd just live for. That I'd learn to just trust. Trust that things are going to be okay. That I'm okay. That I'm me! And really even though we are all the same, we are are all different. We all get to have yearnings that are uniquely ours. Desires that no one can take away from us. And hopes and dreams that eventually do come true. That it's okay to want write myself a love letter from my own typewriter.

Magic may not happen when or how we want it to. And wishes are never granted in the way we have them pictured in our minds. And what I do know to be true, that nothing ever happens the way I want it to. It is usually better.

So my wish for myself for 2013? Just continuing to be the me-ist me I can be. And that when a streetlight goes out around me, to be grateful that I notice its presence and grateful for when I get to see it again.