chalkboard-musings

[chalkboard-musings]

2017: A Lackluster Memoir

Prefacing this with: I don’t have a whole lot of sentiment towards this whole “new year” shebang. From the get-go, you have a bunch of societies writing their own version of a calendar year (I.e.- Sumerian, Athenian, Babylonian Cal.. you get the gist). In true narcissist fashion, when they realized their calculations were a bit skewed - they just sweep it under the woven rug and obliterate a month every couple of years*. Speaking of narcissists - we still abide by Julius Caesar logic of a “leap year”. But I digress, I just don’t really get all the pizzaz around balls dropping (in context of both NYE and Bar Mitzvahs) and blowing... never mind. Society is just funny, is all.

But I’ll force a little nostalgia because the oven’s pre-heating and last year’s resolution of “practicing patience” was, needless to say, a bust. I’m starting (after 6+ years of cyclical “new year, new you” cynicism) to hone on a trend of most of my send offs to the year in the rearview exuding a message of “good riddance, kiss my ass”. Which is forcing me to come to the abrasive realization that I’m the relatively fat kid on the track team that hits the 100M mark and think my eternal organs are going to implode, so I slow to a mosey and wait for the next gun to go off to try it over again. More literally - I’m hitting the May mark and throwing in the towel with a shit “better luck next year” attitude and spending the next 7+ months rolling around in a field of Twinkies, self-loathing, and existential dread. The “literal” segment was short lived.

So I ask myself, while the oven painstakingly hovers around 195 degrees, what is this complex that’s looming overhead year to year, and how do I make it tangible enough to bash over the head with a rock once and for all? (Could be literal or metaphorical, read it as you will). 

So without further ado, here are the non-resolutions - let’s call it a creed instead so I don’t feel like I’m succumbing:

1. Learn your sphere of influence - I admittedly spend < 7% of my energy/ brain waves here. The bulk of the pie chart is spent throwing duraflame onto the cynical fire. 

Ex. “I spent 8 minutes reading this Elite Daily click bait article so I can affirm I have the right to be sad about my generation”, 

“Genocide is bad, so I’m going to sit here with an eyebrow furrow and ponder on all the reasons humanity is cruel while staring at a blank wall for 24 minutes”. 

24 minutes elapse, my attention span taps out, I relax my scowl and go take a nap forgetting why I’m tired. If I’m not the poster child of the problem at hand, I’m at minimum exacerbating it. Getting my head out of my ass is a fair starting point.

2. Practice discipline - I want to change a lot of things. Bad habits, broken paradigms, broken cabinet doors in my apartment.. but (reference #1) it’s hard to see the bigger picture when your head is cozied up your butthole (it’s dark in here - let me pause to complain about that, too). I also, conveniently, violently resist practical solutions to problems. 

Ex. Lament: “Work is an inescapable black hole, mercilessly eating 85% of my waking hours” 

Practical suggestion: “Why don’t you turn off at 6, the world won’t burn down and it will be right where you left it the next a.m.” 

My solution: *roll up in fetal position and accept my fate*

There are these astoundingly simple, hyper logical ways to react to thoughts. Think involuntary responses like the knee reflex test: get knocked in the knee, violently hyperextend your knee kicking Dr. in face, blood everywhere, etc. 

It should, in theory, be that simple; miss someone? Make time for them. Want to not be Jabba the Hutt shaped? Eat mindfully. Want to learn Khoisan click language? Click away until your roommate punches you unconscious (if not unconscious after 1st punch, persevere - click some more). If shit matters to you, have the discipline to do something productive about it. And floss your damn teeth. (I am indeed, talking to myself, in case that was unclear).

3. Stop being a dick to yourself - it’s more or less irrelevant whether I deserve the abuse or have an affinity towards masochism. When you hit the point of: “I should give myself a swirly as a symbolic representation of my worth”, thinks get peculiarly dissociative (Hey.. I’m Dan). You lose your moxie when you forget you’re supposed to be in your own corner, and leave yourself pretty stripped down of defenses as a repercussion. 24 years of failed attempt at social interaction later, apparently it’s also not endearing to use your personality flaws as conversational segues. 

Don’t really intend to close this out with a “POW” because the oven is preheated and I signed this creed in blood.. I’m not sure of the sanitary implications of continuing to type. 

And so it goes.

*I don’t know if any of this is historically accurate but it helped the theme