It’s almost the end of the year 2020. It hasn’t been the most splendid of years. ‘Bad Boys For Life’ was the top grossing domestic movie of 2020. I don’t know what that means in the larger scope of things, but it definitely says something. I don’t think any of us saw that one coming.
I haven’t posted in a while. No haiku. No fantabulous thoughts on the meaning of life. I’ve been in a sort of winter slumber these last few weeks. Bursts of creativity here and there but nothing consistent.
I want that to change. I’m desperate for that to change. There is a big space between the me that I am now and the me that I want to be. The me that I think that I can be.
2020 has been the year of the pandemic. It would be easy for me to blame my current state of being on that. It’s been a bad year, to be sure. I have my stories, but then again so does everyone else. I’m the same me that I’ve always been. I have the same brain. I have the same roadblocks to my creativity that I’ve always had. Those will always be there. The inner demons. The voices in my head. That’s the journey. That’s the game.
I don’t have anything particularly magical to say. I want to be better in 2021. I want to make more things and release those things into the world. I want to build the better habits that will make it possible to live a more fulfilling life. That seems like a pretty good way to think about the New Year.
Make something. Rinse. Repeat. Put your work into the world and then let it go. Clear your mind. Live life one day at a time. Breathe in each and every moment. Do the best you can with what you have.
Over to you, King Cockroach.