Back in October, I had a dream in which Elliot Smith’s “Between the Bars” played over and over again from an aged stereo that a friend of mine doesn’t actually own in a study that is actually at his house. When I woke up, I listened to the song as I made my bed and decided to take its lyrics as another sign that I have the ability to go forward, to evolve, to leave things behind.
As insignificant as blogs may be to other people, I have always felt an exaggerated affection for my livejournal. I started keeping that particular blog in the ninth grade, and I never changed much about it. The name never felt right, but “brightwallflower” was one character too long for their username requirements. I don’t know what I thought would happen if I kept blogging in the same place; if I held onto that blog for, say, an impressive ten years, would I grow wings? Does it mean something that I have a history collected in one place, and that I keep adding weight to it?
The history is still there, but I want to know what it feels like to start something fresh someplace new. This entry has been difficult to compose because in a way, it is weightless. This blog could have a whole different tone than my livejournal. It’s bound to, to some extent, and I like that I’m free from what I wrote before, but the blank webpage is a bit overwhelming. That’s why this is the 4th and not the 1st– I keep rewriting this entry, hoping for something better.
One thing I don’t want to leave behind is starting the year off with resolutions. The Daily Om and few other things I read often contain the reminder that if one consciously resets, any time can be a fresh start, but I like the idea of time accompanying my changes. I have a good track record with my New Years’ resolutions that I hope to continue.
Anyway, resolutions. I resolve to transform the way I interact with people, slowly but surely. I want to be more open to more people and overcome my fear of certain social interactions. I resolve to be socially assertive, yet more socially discerning. I want to be more open to new people, but be more careful of who I make a permanent part of my life. I would like to associate with people who are passionate about interaction and teaching me something as well as learning from me. I don’t want to start friendships that are merely fluff– I don’t want to be friends with people so we can both claim that there’s another person out in the world who likes me and cascade into compromise from there. I resolve to feed the friendships I have, particularly the ones in Idaho that obviously need some attention.
I resolve to fearlessly explore spirituality and not settle for something simply because it’s easy. I want to respectfully discover what jives with my life, which doesn’t mean “discover what makes me feel good,” but what makes me feel both jazzed and challenged. I resolve to keep spirituality an important part of my life.
I resolve to let personal changes transform things that have become routine.
I resolve to take in as much of Idaho’s culture in my last months of living there. This includes skiing, floating the river, shooting beer cans in the foothills, and going to the Weiser Fiddle Festival.
I hope to plan a trip to Central America with Brianne.
I resolve to share my writing and music with others around me and to encourage others to share with me.
I resolve to listen to my body, which means feeding it with vegetables and happy, healthy stuff most of the time, but feeding it chocolate and Jack-in-the-Box when it begs for that, too.
Even though 2008 is now about 3 days deep, I already know 2007 is going to be a difficult year to completely leave behind. I’m not going to try. Instead, I hope to appreciate the threads of what has to have been the most complex year of my life as they show up in my dreams and in my actions. Last night I dreamt that my dad died again, and sometimes I think that in my sleep I forget that it really happened. Some mornings, the past six months didn’t happen and I’m back in the logical, stagnant progression that’s a cold contrast to where I am now. “Now” changes every day now, and I’m growing rather fond of the surprises.
