The sense of nothing

My windows are open. A breeze carrying 62 degrees is drifting through the sheer curtains. I can hear birds chirping through the FaceTime call I’m on as I slide across my floors in the socks I bought at a store with my mom in Australia. Visions of my mom and me laughing through the streets Brisbane. The best vacation ever. I don’t have much to say. It is a New Year. That we know to be a fact. We heard it roll in. The fireworks muted colors shimmering against the fog and rain that swirled in my neighborhood. It’s been a couple of days and the smoke has settled. We are once again hydrated. Work has begun again. And just like that, all the shiny of the new year feels like, well, another year. I personally, just want to ride through this year how I finished it, in love and in my bed.

The pressure we put on ourselves to one up each new year is enough stress to keep someone awake at night. Me, I’m someone. I could not sleep last night. I felt like Goldilocks switching between my pillows trying to find an ounce of comfort. It was too hot. Then it was too cold. My sheets felt like they were wrapping around me, a linen anaconda about to enjoy a delicious meal. Defeated and open to the fact that I may be awake for the rest of my life, I rolled on my side and stared at the window. I don’t know when it happened but sleep eventually came. I brought in this New Years surrounded by the love of my family. The thumps of my neighbors son running above me. The creak of my bed every time I had to switch positions mid conversation. The sound of people on the balcony celebrating with friends.

The first three days of this year have been a springtime daydream. Things I’ve done so far, in no order. Almost break my washer machine. Binge a new show (Kaleidoscope on Netflix, amazing). Started drawing again and laughed at how terrible the picture of my plant I drew looked nothing like the plant in front of me. Listened to a whole album, get to the last track and think “Wow, that was awful.” Dye my hair again. Bought myself the biggest bouquet of lilies. Lay on my tremendous blue couch and rest.

This New Year for me is about continuing the lifestyle that I started at the end of the year. I don’t feel this pull to change everything about myself because I am constantly shedding layers of myself to craft the best me for me. I don’t want to become a better person for the outward approval of others. I don’t want to seem like I have it all together on paper but inside I am falling apart. I’ve been at that point where I’ve read book after self-help book to learn how to change but the words all just faded together. I crafted myself to become the me the books told me to be but I lost my light. I lost the spark that made me unique. I slowed down on the speed reading and went outside more. I decided to be an active participant in my life. I decided I needed to re-learn what it was like to be me. I was no longer seeking to become because I already was. I was seeking to be fulfilled. To take the dry bones I carried and pour oil on them. To awake in a new day, everyday, and feel like I had an endless chance to start again.

I am not here to tell you what to do. I am the furthest thing from a guru. All I know is that you should take all the time you need. Be a little bit lazy. A year is a long time. Let’s start at the 24 hour mark and work our way up from there.

This blog post was written to the album “Lychee” by Benee.