Well, more than one funny thing.
And in retrospect, not a lot of 2020 was funny. Nor 2019. Or 2018 or 2017 for that matter. The end of 2016 was depressing as hell, come to think of it.
The dear daughter has been trying to set up her own blog, because at 14 she has become a cornucopia of thoughts, opinions, ideas, words and more words. She needs an outlet for the loquaciousness of her mind. As did I when I started writing here oh so many moons ago. Thus we sit at computers tonight, attempting to figure out how to give her a space to put pen to paper, so to speak.
As the resident IT person (though that is fast being eclipsed by aforementioned 14 year old–a baton I will gladly hand off) it is up to me to figure this out. We’ll see how it ends up. If successful, we’ll send an email notice to let you know where to subscribe.
The girl is amazing at what tumbles out onto the page when she gets started. I am in awe of her literary skills.
All of that being said, as I am helping her set this up, I had a chance to revisit the last year and any and all words I may have communicated myself. However, I am horrified to see that in all of 2020 I wrote three times. I had several guest posts by both daughter and friends, but only three original writings.
I’m truly flabbergasted at my lack of verbiage. I knew my creativity had been stifled by the absolute inane, asinine asininity emanating from the People’s House in the Capitol City. Specifically from the Office with No Corners. One day bled into the next and now, looking back, I am absolutely appalled that the insanity eclipsed my peace of mind for the last four years.
What a long, strange journey it’s been. One I would NOT want to repeat. I’ll take the highs and put them in a pretty box with a pretty ribbon and lock them away in a special place in my heart.
I’ll kick the lows to the curb and Goddess willing not spare another look. Yes, we can learn from our mistakes and prevent history from repeating itself, but I have no desire to relive any part of the last insane, abominable, deplorable years.
I do not know about you, but I simply kept putting one foot in front of the other. I kept moving forward in the hopes that a better day was on the horizon.
I do believe that our better days are yet to come. I do believe that the sun will come out tomorrow, and the next day and the day after that. Sometimes I have to dig deep to get to that belief. Sometimes I have to fake it until I make it so. I know that my spirit needs to soar again. I need to unleash the words from my brain to get some relief.
I tell Gracelyn that we have two choices.
Choice A: we can wallow and muck about and bemoan whatever is happening around us.
Choice B: we can lift up our heads, say “dang it…that’s not what I wanted” and decide to move forward instead–to ask “what am I going to do about it, how can I make the next best, right move?”
For 2021, I’m choosing Choice B. I want to laugh and smile and dance again.