The year's pretty much over. When it began, I made a goal for myself to write 2 articles a month for this site, and I did; this is actually the third for December so I could totally choose not to be writing anything, which is strangely empowering. A few of these entries were absolute crap, and I wondered that if the quality dipped so low, was it worth it for me to be pushing them out? Now that I have, I can honestly admit that it was. I knew when I was struggling that I could write two a month for the remainder of the year, but I hadn't actually done it. I thought it was about proving something to myself, but now that I have, it's more about the sense of accomplishment. I fucking did it and it feels great to look back and see it finished.
I told myself to start small; it didn't matter what else I accomplished this year so long as I wrote two of these posts a month. No other deadlines, no other expectations. It was just something I wanted to keep me tethered, force me to write and add a sense of stability. If I want to be a writer so bad, it stood to reason I should be writing consistently, right? The unexpected bonus was how much I learned and risked simply because I didn't have a lot riding on the outcome. This little thing was the thing that mattered to me, and that gave me so much freedom to try new things. Some of it worked out, and some of it didn't. Others are still works in progress. Whichever direction they took, I never felt overwhelmed by it because it never mattered what direction they ended up. That's why you need to start small.
More important than having a goal in life is having a reason for it. That's why our new years resolutions tend to break; sure we want to be ten pounds lighter or fluent in Portugese, but if we don't have a real reason, chances are we'll go back to eating pizza and watching Simpsons reruns. It doesn't need to be a life changing reason, it just has to be one that's important to you. I didn't have a quantifiable reason for wanting to write, I just knew it was important to me, and that's what kept me doing it even when the passion was gone and I didn't want to.
Going back, it's insane to see how I changed as a person over a year. I don't think I would have imagined that I would be single by December, that I would have quit school or that I'd be doing pretty much anything I'm doing now. If you had told me that's how things would play out, I may have freaked out and vow to never put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard?) ever again.
What I did know, maybe not explicitly, but somewhere in myself, that I was unhappy. That's why I started writing, making that particular effort. I didn't understand anything else that went on around me or how it made me feel or what its place in my life was, but I had writing. It made me feel good and I followed it here.
I'm in a moment now that is begging for daydreaming, but I'm trying not to get ahead of myself. Fall and Winter are usually dismal times of the year for me. It almost seems like the true meaning of Christmas is to distract an entire population from how utterly bleak and depressing everything looks while the trees sleep and the snow piles up. This autumn was on the more turbulent side, reflectively, not the worst I've had but certainly not fun. I went through some intense grief, but I came out of it feeling awake and surprisingly calm.
As much as I've caught myself thinking about my next step, I've got to remember to enjoy this sense of peace. You can't take your good moods for granted; and if being depressed taught me anything it's to appreciate the shit out of a good day.
About A Blog
I'm a Denver Comedian, occasional cartoonist and person of interest to someone, probably. These articles are really too long.