A Resolution, Revelation.

 At the rate I’m going, I would be lucky to publish 180 blog posts by the time I turn 90.

Those are rookie numbers.

I don’t plan on dying a rookie. I plan on dying a master of my craft, and hopefully becoming a master long before I’ve kicked the bucket.

See, the beauty of writing blog posts that most people on Earth will never read is that it doesn’t need to be good. No one expects the next Great American Novel to be typed on a blog post, and why should they? It is not, and has never been, the medium for that.

Blog posts, particularly personal blog posts, are supposed to be just that: a bit personal.

So, let’s get personal a second.

First off, I don’t like my work habits. I think they’re fairly lackluster and are doomed to fail me. This can change, but only if I change it. It’s not up to some divine or supernatural force. It’s up to me, and only me.

Frankly, I’m terrified of most people reading what I have to say, even though I’m 95% positive that what I have to say is worth saying. That 5% is calling the shots right now. That 5% has kept most of what I have to say in my notes app, away from prying eyes with gross things like opinions and opposing perspectives. That 5% needs to man the fuck up and give me the chance that I know I deserve. That 5% needs to see the beauty, the positivity, and the possibility of the 95%.

I have suffered years of a debilitating victim complex. I’ve been convinced that my problems are in fact not my problems, but society’s. This is a dangerous lie. My problems are indeed my own, and no one else’s. Oddly, there is a comfort in taking full ownership of my problems. I am my own boss; therefore, I am the boss of my own problems.

If I am not happy, it is because I choose not to be. There are, of course, factors out of my control. I can’t decide how people react to me, nor can I determine the fates of loved ones. However, I have full control over how I respond to those uncontrollable factors. How I respond is my choice, and my choice alone.

Further, no one is responsible for my happiness except for me.

Masters are made by daily practice. By leaving even one day empty of enrichment, it is self-sabotage to the soul. 

I have learned there are few things on Earth more valuable than momentum. Momentum is the precious metal of moments. Without it, one can remain stuck in their crazy ways until they wake up one day and realize it’s too late to change. The life they dreamed about is behind them in a parallel universe, and the person they hoped to become ceases to exist. But with momentum, one can turn a snowball into an avalanche. One is capable of moving mountains with mustard seeds.

I think absolute theism and absolute atheism are equally arrogant beliefs. Still, I feel that I’ve spent the majority of my twenties not just a step away from my faith, but in a separate sea from the faith I grew up with. There is no soul without spirit. Whether we want to accept it or not, we all worship some sort of god in one form or another. I believe god is wherever we invest our energy.

Today, I saw the world-famous Harlem Gospel Choir perform at my place of work. I only made $89.00, but I came away with something even more valuable than money: the revelation that my soul can still be moved by a room of people dancing in worship of something greater than themselves. Today, I said “praise the Lord” and meant it for the first time in eight years.

I am fortunate enough to have a partner in crime who is invested in the same god as me. Dionysus watches over us, and has given us his gifts. It would be a damn shame to wake up decades from now and realize that I have wasted what I have been given. The muse cannot be taken for granted.

I have too many thoughts about the world behind me and the world ahead to sum up in one post. I hope that you, dear reader, can see me in my words. This is my resolution: to say what I have to say, to not be afraid of the outcome, and to enjoy the journey. We only get one life, and these years only come once. Make the most of it.