Farewell 2019.

It's a new year.
2019 is over. At last.

While I'm not entirely pessimistic about 2019, I'm not entirely positive about it, either. Things happened that made me question my life, reflect on my choices, doubt my future and worry about the tiniest little things. I thought things I never imagined contemplating. I feared the thoughts in my head.

However, out of the darkness came a wealth of introspection.

From the dearth of questions came deep insights into who I was, what I was thinking and why those thoughts were in my head...basically, what makes me 'me'. My thought process through the latter part of the year took me to interesting places that I'd left behind years ago. Things from my past (and I'm talking 20-30 years ago), once buried, clawed their way to the surface and, given my headspace, were open to analysis, observed objectively...but they weren't the 'happy' memories.

Betrayal.
Bullying..
Infidelity.
Family Illness.
To name a few...

All of them happened when I was younger. All of them happened in 2019.

Yet something powerful occurred: An appreciation. An acceptance of experience as a means of growth. From the negative came positives.

Out of the darkness came light.

Writing became an importance in my life once more. Looking objectively at my relationships and friendships became a priority. Taking time to try and understand the motivations of others was necessary. And a realization of my own anxieties and triggers was key. Recognizing a need for 'me time' and identifying my stresses was mandatory. Until this past July, I'd not stopped and thought about me in, easily, 10 years. Spending my days worrying about everyone else, making sure the lives of others were good, became a fixation. My kids. My wife. The students I teach. They held priority over me.

I'd never taken the time to look inward. I've looked at myself superficially but rarely did I allow time to assess my needs objectively, intensely and honestly.

Sometimes, events occur in life that force you to stop.

During the first week of July, I stopped. I had to. There were too many thoughts bouncing around my head, too much negativity and too many questions to process, to continue or move forward.

Sitting on the dock, on a very hot morning, staring out at the calm lake, I contemplated life. And death. Coffee in hand (which, for the first time, I could  not stomach), I resolved to change my mindset. Or, at least, try to see things differently. To ask for help when I need it. To stand up for what I know to be true or right or just. To commit to change.

Listening to Phish, for some reason, was my source of inspiration. It was my comfort, my solace. The songs, "More", "Light", "Everything's Right" and "Set Your Soul Free" seemed to speak to me. There, on a hot summer morn, I listened to lyrics like, "I'm vibrating with love and light, in a world gone mad, there must be something more than this" and "the light is growing brighter now" and "obstacles are stepping stones that guide us to our goals" or "focus on the past, that's what will last" or "focus on today, you'll find a way, happiness is how you're rooted in the now"...I resolved to chose positivity over negative, the light over the dark. I could've listened to depressing, dark, angry music but I didn't. I sought a resolution to the problem and made the decision to deal with it...and move forward.

At the cottage, I couldn't talk to anyone. Not my wife. Not our friends. Not my kids. No one. All I had was myself...choices would need to be my own, for me, by me. And yet, despite the hurtful choices made by those surrounding me, I felt selfish for thinking of myself. The one who hurt the most was thinking of those who caused the hurt.

So, I turned to the virtual world of Twitter. I expressed my thoughts (or tried). I shared my anxiety, put my fears into words. I asked questions. I sought advice...and I was welcomed. My feelings were validated. My hurt confirmed. My words heard. For that, I am eternally grateful. Strangers responding to someone with only 86 followers meant the world to me. It saved me.

At the suggestion and encouragement of a couple new acquaintances, I picked up my journal. I hadn't written in it for ages. Sure, I carried it places, 'just in case', but rarely wrote anything with substance. That day, I wrote. I wrote and wrote and wrote some more. The floodgates opened. So many words and feelings and thoughts and fears and questions and doubts and hurts were released. My past became my present. The ideas and innermost emotions poured onto the page...a stream of consciousness that purged the demons within.

And for that I am grateful. It hurt. It was hard. But it was necessary. And I'm thankful for the experience, for out of it, I changed.

One more thing I'm thankful for, out of this whole experience, are the novels I've started writing. One, a dark and demonic book...a paranormal romance? a 'relationship with the devils' sort of thing. The other, which I find most inspiring and hopeful for, is a heroic quest about a biophilic heroine named Hyra who deserts her Realm, seeking the Essence - a force that's beckoned her from the age of 4. When a series of events leads to an opportunity to realize her calling, sacrifices are made. Her stubborn, passionate, intrinsic relationship with Nature leads her towards experiences and knowledge never considered. It's like "The Dark Tower" - except not in the desert, no guns, and a female protagonist...and there's magic...or powers beyond human.

I love my main character, Hyra. She's a part of me. She 'talks' to me as I'm driving. She shares her stories with me as I rest or while sleeping. The novel came in a dream - maps, backstory, a history of the Four Realms, the Essence, the hag, her experiences - the good, the bad, and the ugly. It all appeared in a vision that could not be ignored. A 2020 goal is to finish it. At least, complete the first book. The complexity is growing, leading me to believe it will be one of a few.

Looking towards 2020, my resolutions are clear in my mind and heart. Time for a focus on me.

How? Write 10,000 words per month. This could be my blogs or one of the two the novels I've started. However I choose, writing is a focal point for me this year. Whether or not I publish anything is irrelevant. I, simply, must make some room in my head for new thoughts by putting into type (or ink) the words bouncing around my head.

Another goal is a tattoo. A tree. An image I've seen in my mind for years that's become a sketch. A maple tree. Bare. Roots leading towards my elbow, some wrapped around a ring (think 'coffee ring'). Branches leading towards my fingers, bursting from the ring. Textured, gnarled trunk. Symbolically, I'm always reaching for others but, too often, forget the strength of my roots, my inner strength. That, no matter the weather, obstacles or challenges, a tree may bend but remains strong, firmly planted, continuing to reach for new heights.

My last goal? Calm. Do what I must to remain calm. Whether it's baking as my therapy, or experimenting with new recipes or exploring meditation or an exercise routine, I need to find a peace of mind, doing something that centres me. An opportunity to channel my energies into something positive. As the bakers on the many baking shows I watch for inspiration, "Out of the mess comes something (hopefully) wonderful."

Here's to 2020. May peace of mind and heart be yours.

"As the twig is bent, the tree inclines." (Virgil)