Just write.

I'm going to write something because I haven't. There just aren't words, or if there are, I can't feel them. So here I am. This morning I left the coffee shop and the air was cold and the sky was blue and wisps of clouds hung there. The moon was still up and clearly visible, nearly full, the sun shining just so that if you didn't know better, you'd think it was going to be a warm day. I took a deep breath, the kind that's supposed to make you feel better, that clears out the cobwebs. I tried to look with bright eyes on the day but only managed a certain weariness. I'll see what it has to offer, I thought, instead of pouring myself into it. I think sometimes that the world doesn't have anything to offer you, only what you can offer it. And if you can only muster weariness, that's what the world will give you.

::

Work was weird yesterday, fine until it wasn't. At the end of the day there were some miscommunications that culminated in a cranky fellow letting me know how cranky he was and that's never fun. So I felt pretty yuck and disgruntled, particularly when there wasn't really anything I could do to fix things. That's the thing, right? When faced with conflict I feel this overwhelming need to fix it immediately. Because I don't want someone to be mad at me. Because I want things to feel better. I can never just let the thing breathe a little, let hackles settle. I just want to roll over like a puppy and show my belly. I need this to be okay, I would say if you could handle such things honestly. But you can't. You have to use careful corporate speak so that you appear professional all the time. Phooey.

I don't know if it's because my job is words that I am keenly aware of how the words I choose can affect others. I'm always baffled at the hastily jotted email, wondering why someone chose a period there instead of an exclamation mark, what the one word answer to an email means. Should I nix my friendly tone? Avoid little jokes? All signs point to yes.

Anyway, the point is not the conflict of yesterday, really, but it's in that even though the communication with this guy was wretched he led me to something lovely. Which is this performance of a piece of music that this other guy (not the cranky one) wrote for his infant daughter.

Pretty, huh?

So thanks, cranky guy.

::

A few days after the start of the new year I felt like I was being inundated with the "you get out of it what you put into it" message. It came at me from various places, all independently, and I wondered if the universe had something to tell me. I'm like some dumb ghost drifting through my days lately. Where's the spark that makes me feel alive and engaged? It's in you, duh, I know. I've been thinking of resolutions and goals for the new year and now I think it just boils down to not what I want to get out of the year, but I want to put into it. Creative energy, inspiration. Serving others. Giving love to the people in my life. And learning to love myself a little better. It's a start, I guess.