i can see the trees and the forest

i really wanted to come up with some pithy and interesting new year's eve resolutions but somewhere in the wide open calm of the last day of the year, as i made a mad dash for cough medicine and prosecco, i realized that the velocity of living my life on purpose was propelling everything forward with a momentum that was finally beginning to keep pace with the life i've always wanted. the thing is, the life i've always wanted is the life i have and have had for quite some time.

i'm not sure when it happened, but somewhere in there, i woke up and realized that i'm living that life -- action-packed, highly physical, explosively creative, and fun, fun, fun. was it years ago when i had this epiphany? was it last week? was it new year's eve? i'm not sure. there are moments when i have to be reminded in this really deliberate way of how blissfully fortunate i am, that i get to live in new york city with my beautiful permanent boyfriend and make cool art. it's only a moment, like middle school or summers with my great-grandparents. and like all of those moments, it feels like it's going to last forever but it went by in a flash. and in my mind, it's a snapshot of a memory. and then it's gone.

how long will this moment last? and won't the horrible things that will surely come after and intermingle with my joy make all of this sweeter, somehow?

everybody wants to get out of debt and stop smoking and lose weight. but where's the joy? where's the moment when you stop and give thanks to be alive and take in the moment you have before you, in complete gratitude and humility, just because, even though you chain smoke and you love pie? everyone is in the forest and no one can see the trees.

well. i can see the trees. and i have every intention of continuing to wander through the forest and live in the moment and take it all in, all the fun and joy and goodness i can possibly stand, and letting the rest fall to the wayside.

i remember when i did the artist's way and found myself wandering down some sun-drenched avenue on the west side in new york city, eating blackberries and licking the juice from my fingers, singing melodies to myself and stopping every so often to jot down bits and pieces of lyrics that would fall into my head haphazardly. i didn't have a conventional job. i was up to my elbows in debt. my body wasn't where i wanted it to be. but i was so happy, i practically skipped down the street.

what happened? i decided that i was going to be happy. and that was that.

real talk? whatever's going on in your life, there's someone out there that would trade places with you in an instant -- no matter how bad you think things are. i figure i may as well be happy. most of what's eating away at me is nothing that has anything to do with me, anyway -- and even if it did, how is worrying going to solve anything?

maybe those are my resolutions -- to stay happy, to stay grateful, to see the trees as i make my way through the forest.