A couple days ago was my anniversary of terrible things. I posted the video of my little custom on Instagram, as I have done the previous two years.
This year seemed almost harder than the last two, but of course– everyone knows that time and grief don’t really play by the same rules.
One of the reasons it is so difficult to come to May 6th is that is has become a sort of marker by which I can judge myself.
Most of the time, I feel like I’m moving, like I’m doing something, but on the anniversary of terrible things– I see how far away from a stable life I am. I went to prison four years ago. I still have nightmares. Dave died three years ago. I still don’t know what I want from love and relationships.
It’s an exhausting day. and this year was especially so. There was a lot of loss– some things I was finally forced to accept, some things I let go, some things slipped away, and some were taken away.
And some of those things were people.
It was feeling pretty terrible until May 7th, when I realized that as much as the 6th is a marker of endings– an ending where I never seem to be anywhere near a finish line– the 7th is a sort of beginning.
It’s almost like my personal New Year. And on New Years, you get to celebrate how far you’ve come rather than worry about how far you still have to go.
The universe helped me out by sending a proof copy of the book I started talking about in November with the post “And yet and so and still” — https://rarasaur.com/2017/11/09/and-yet-and-so-and-still
Reading that post of plans reminded me how many changes I’ve actually seen through. I’ve pruned this blog as I said I would. It’s less than 20 posts big now. I put some of the most precious words into a book about finding happiness while healing, and that’ll be out next week. The rest are coming, the next book is forming, and this space is finally free to fill up however I want.
I’m excited for Dinosaur-Hearted. It’s an entire book of the truthful and balanced joys that I am so often drawn to. Some of the chapters are handwritten. My signboards are in it. It’s littered with my doodles.
I’ve read it over and over, and I’m proud of it. It feels like a love letter. It is a love letter, to you. And I am hoping you all love it back.
Are there any days in your year that are like your own personal New Year?