In the early hours of this morning, I spoke with my friends about my plans for the year: my hopes, my resolutions. It is hard to talk about this sometimes, especially if the friends structure their lives in a more mainstream way than I tend to live my life.
It has taken a long time for me to accept my friends’ questions as part of a conversation and not as an interrogation in which I have to defend myself. As a big birthday is approaching this year, I realise (even without their prompts) that I am indeed still renting a room in a shared house, working a job that I hope will get me through the month, every month, and chipping away at what is seemingly a pipe dream.
Thus a familiar question is: What if it will never happen? Well, at the point that this becomes certain, I will have died – so I suppose it won’t bother me that much. Perhaps I shall even die with the demented hope of a 96-year old that my warbling will be published posthumously. I mean, “it” is not trying to become the President of the USA, try to establish peace in the Middle East, find a job as brain surgeon next week, become a pro-basketball player or join the Navy SEALS by the weekend: “It” is to write for a living.
The biggest a priori mistake people seem to make though is to assume that we have the same goals and formulate the questions from that perspective. Despite all the insecurities and challenges in my life (and really, they are just #firstworldproblems. I am hardly trying to rescue my newborn twins from cholera here) I am happy. Every day I wake up in my rented room, I know I chose to be there; even when I log into a shift at 3am, I chose to do so. Every time I manage to finish a draft of another unpaid writing project and send it off into a black hole via email to reach yet another deadline, I feel hopeful.
The day my dream is no longer my choice but my cage, I will change again. A creative life is not the obvious life for an inherent worrier like myself but I like the challenge, the variety and the freedom. As it is a mile-stone year, my resolutions are to make my life A) sustainable and B) more purposeful. Last night, I was told that those are hardly SMART goals, yet I suppose you could call them intentions or in fact, what’s that word again… resolutions.
I have my dream, my resolutions and yet another 365 days ahead of me.
So 2014, let’s go.