Auld Lang Syne… let’s see if we can try this again

I think the challenge with New Year’s resolutions is that they are more often about the end result than anything else. As the year goes on and people see that there is no way they are going to meet this ideal, they get discouraged and throw in the proverbial towel. *Raises Hand* I do. Every year. I set myself some grand and lofty goals that I could only reach if I were some sort of android, and then tend to abandon them a month into the journey.

This year, I’ve decided it’s all about action. As long as I can act, I will be satisfied. I will not judge or criticize, rather I will simply do. Nearly 30 years old, and I think, I finally understand what Yoda was encouraging Luke to do… just act, and the rest will follow.

So, part of my goals is to sing and record a song a day. It’s not going to be perfect. The levels will probably be off, my voice will crack, but I am only allowing myself 5 takes. And then I’ll upload them here…

Cheers to 2017! At the suggestion of my Maestra, Vanessa Pace:

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Dear Friend

I’ve been thinking of the transient nature of life. Almost since I was born, I have moved every four or so years. When people ask me “where I’m from” or what my “hometown” is, I laugh. And then, after apologizing for giggling, I take a deep breath and start ticking off the locations on my fingers: Born in Washington, moved to Texas, than Cheyenne Wyoming, then Maryland, college in California, and back up to Washington. “I guess I’ve come full circle,” I chuckle, even as I wonder when the circle will break and I’ll find myself elsewhere.

The longer I stay in one place, however, the closer I am to finding “home,” because the people I encounter during this time become very special friends.  These friends are special not because they are superior to others, but because they inevitably see more of my life and who I am.

These friendships start with shared interests (theatre, choir, school, career), which then extend into shared sympathies and humors. As time passes, I inevitably grow to have an understanding with these friends; an understanding of what is said in silence; an understanding of the words beneath the words; and an understanding of their hopes and fears… past, present, and future.

And it seems strange, at times, to realize that some of these friends of whom I am thinking, are people whom I rarely engage in conversation anymore, or even see.

I suppose the nature of adulthood is that we leave things behind. The myth of adulthood is that we ever do. When someone has truly touched your heart, in any way, it lingers; like a spray of water upon your skin, even after you’ve wiped it away.

We don’t shed people and places, we carry them with us; wrapping ourselves up in a quilt of memories; each thread a link to what was, each square a fragment of recollection. These memories are imperfect, idealized, but they comfort us, and strengthen us, so we cherish them, even when they start getting a bit tattered around the edges.

It never ceases to amaze me how powerful these connections are, and how some friendships continue to endure in spite of neglect. These people re-enter our lives in “very unusual ways” : an unsolicited letter of love when we are feeling utterly alone; spending time with someone after five years apart, and feeling like it was just yesterday that you said “see ya’ around”; the voice in your head, which offers counsel during times of trouble, taking on the tones of a childhood companion.

Instances like these make me reflect that although life is transient, and I myself am never destined to remain in one place for very long, everywhere I go is home so long as a friend is there.