Tuesday, December 10, 2019

I Have Additional Thoughts...

In the blink of an eye, the end of the year—and the end of the decade—is upon us.

These milestones quietly reverberate through our house; imperceptible, constant tectonics building toward events we can't predict. A cursory review of 2019 (instagram.com/mcm_pnw/) reminds us how jolting those changes can be.

We lost people this year. Scrolling through their photos proves there's no expiration date on hurt powerful enough to bring tears months later.

There were highs as well, most often defined by the life-affirming things we got out and got done. A 25k race in January, an insane seven-week training block in March and April leading to a 100k gut-punch in May.

After that, and by design, the outdoor activities became easier, more restorative. They coincided with children leaving home on journeys of their own, redefining our family in ways we may never fully find the edges of.

It's quieter now. There's more breathing room for music while I make dinner; for a few pages of a book in the evening; for writing instead of watching a screen.

There's no logic to wanting any year to end, any more than there is to believing the next one will be better. As always, time unspools and events transpire, unmoved by our need to put them in boxes.


callista said...

This is beautiful and reflects my own experience with my year. Thank you for sharing.

spaceneedl said...

Thank you, Callista. Hoping for less jolt, more calm for you and yours.

Mark Miller said...

In 2018, following a year with many seizures and Luke having to stay home for a semester, we were all saying, "Fuck 2018. Bring on 2019." Ten days into the year, our lives were unalterably changed forever. Now, I have the desire to say, "Fuck 2019", but it don't--1. because it won't matter and 2. I'm apprehensive about what tragedy could be lurking in 2020. That doesn't mean we don't experience life or shrink from risks. If anything, Luke's death has encouraged all of us to "sieze the day." However, I'm often reminded of Jack Nicholson's character saying in the movie "As good as it gets"--"What if this is as good as it gets?" My version of that is, "What if this isn't as bad as it can get?"

Or from Young Frankenstein:

Igor: "Could be worse."
Dr. F: "How could it be worse?"
Igor: "Could be raining."

At least it's not raining.

spaceneedl said...

Some days I don't know whether to laugh or scream.

Make that most days.

Make that, "So I do both."