I tend not to rush into things, which is probably why it's been ten days already before I make my first blog post of the new year. I had a lot to think about. What kind of year is this going to be?
This first month, falling after the season of celebration, reflection, and dispensation, always seems a time of hope and promise. This time, however, there is much that trails from previous months which clouds our happiness. Some people may feel guilt at being happy or ready to move on with the daily routine while others still suffer. My heart still goes out to those affected by so many tragedies of 2012.
In my own little world of make-believe, I walk a precarious line along the top of a fence, always on guard as to what is real and what is fiction and what may be somewhere in between. All of my writer friends do, too, I like to believe. In "reality," I suppose we all have different degrees of fictionphrenia. As for me, I've been dealing with the birth of a new baby. It was rather rough on my protagonist but I got her through it. Then she got married and you know all that goes into that kind of an event.
Last comes the first thing: the daily routine. I wasted most of this year, so far, by being a test subject in the great flu season of 2013. Symptoms broke on January 1 and hit hard, keeping me in bed the rest of the week. I pulled myself together for the first meeting day for faculty (yes, I'm a professor in an alternate universe). That proved to be an unwise choice. I relapsed and spent the past two days languishing in sloth, rather like a sloth.
In fact, yesterday, I got up sometime around noon (having ignored probably three separate alarms) and just stood in the middle of the living room, wondering who I was, where I was, and why I was awake. I pondered for several minutes what to do, what I needed to do, should do, or could do. Standing there in one spot, contemplating my next move. It was weird. I was conscious yet I felt very detached from the universe.
After several minutes of contemplation, unable to decide what to do next, I returned to what I knew best: the dream world, where everything is good and fruitful and full of grace. I awoke next around the dinner hour, feeling a little hungry yet not too much wiser or more rested. I did, however, feel that I could actually go on with this new year, this humbling 2013, the year we almost didn't get (well played, Mayans, well played). It seems like a bonus.
If 2013 feels like a bonus to you, make a resolution not to waste any of it. And, like my resolution, let's all be kinder and gentler to each other, no matter what our individual beliefs may be, no matter what experiences the past has given us, and without regard to future expectations. A smile or a helping hand costs us nothing, yet can be so valuable.
I'd like to thank all my friends from social media who patiently endure my sarcasm and politely tolerate my various online writing!
(C) Copyright 2010-2013 by Stephen M. Swartz. All Rights Reserved. No part of this blog, whether text or image, may be used without me giving you written permission, except for brief excerpts that are accompanied by a link to this entire blog.
Violators shall be written into novels as characters who are killed off. Serious violators shall be identified and dealt with according to the laws of the United States of America.