I wish all of you a happy 2005. 2004 was a good year in many ways for me, but in many other ways, it's been an incredibly challenging year. Still, I'm in better shape tonight than I was 366 days ago.
I'm not much for New Year's Eve parties. I went to friends' house tonight for dinner, but I'm alone now, and I anticipate being asleep long before the ball drops.
I'm sad tonight because I got into a fight with someone today whom I care deeply for. It's one of those fights where neither of us is right or wrong; there's a fundamental difference between us that is irresolveable. We try to live in peace with that difference, but today, due to a combination of things, not the least of which is that it is my least favourite day of the year, we managed to create a situation where I don't know if tomorrow will bring a resolution to the fight or a decision to stop being in contact with each other. My preference would be a peaceful resolution, but that will require me living with something that is difficult for me to accept, despite my intellectual intentions to do so.
I don't like using this blog as a confessional, but tonight, of all nights, I'm just so aware of how despite all the time I've spent in recovery, I still don't want to accept reality nor do I want to surrender control. It scares me to be out of control. The world is a frightening place, and even though I spend as much time as I can trying to let go of the things I cannot change and accepting that is so, there are nights, like tonight, where I flail. I should let the water carry me where it needs to carry me, but tonight, damnit, I wish I could be in charge of the tide.
I understand why people become addicts. Or they live off their anger. Or they shop. Or they go through lovers like toilet paper. Being alone can be a place of amazing strength and inspiration; as a writer, I have to be alone to get my work done. May Sarton once said something to the effect that loneliness is the absence of company but solitude is the company of the self. More often than not these past few months, I've gotten to experience solitude. But I have moments when the loneliness is overwhelming. Loneliness is the ground in which addiction of all kinds takes root.
Tonight, I feel as if I'm observing my loneliness through the lens of solitude. I have enough perspective to see that what I'm feeling is temporary, that the hype around the holidays, which emphasize family, and connectedness, and being in a relationship, that all of those things are sold to us the same way we're sold cars and stereos and watches and aspirin. If we just buy the right thing, we'll be happy, our pain will be gone, we'll get what we want. If we're in the right relationship, we'll be happy, our pain will be gone, we'll get what we want.
There's a lot of pain in the world tonight. And my discomfort tonight is nothing compared to what so many people are experiencing. But I'm still entitled to my grief; we can't shut off our feelings because in comparison, our suffering doesn't match up.
My resolution for this coming year is about my continued desire to practice surrender. I wish you could snap your fingers, say you surrender, and voila! Instant acceptance. What I keep finding out is that surrender is a daily process. Daily? Hell.Hourly. So my resolution is to continue to let go of the things over which I have no control.
I wish you all serenity.