This morning my alarm went off in the middle of a strange, dark dream about country roads in Maine and the Queen somehow wanting me to edit a project for her in Final Cut Pro.
Nine minutes later, I was halfway down the block going for a run in a strange, light rainstorm that turned my sweat cold and made the grass in the park squeak as I jogged across it.
Across the street at the Celestial Seasonings Tea Factory, a double rainbow lit up so bright that for a few moments, it actually seemed like I was going to run fast enough to reach the end. If Celestial Seasonings had any photographers among their early morning crew, it would've been a smart photo shoot for an ad campaign-- Orange Zinger: two parts tea, one part rainbows and unicorns.
It was a good run. It marked a one year anniversary-- a chapter of my life when I relied on walking long distances because I didn't think I could train myself into
any kind of running, a chapter of my life when two of the closest "friends" I thought I'd ever had reached into my chest, pulled out my heart, threw it in front of oncoming traffic and didn't bat an eyelash as morning rush hour traffic smashed it into pieces.
And perhaps I'm getting a tad 'gothic novel' on the subject.
But.In "Dreams With Sharp Teeth"-- the Harlan Ellison documentary that my dad is in and deserves a journal entry of its own, a very young Tom Brokaw listened with his jaw open as an iconic 70s Harlan talked about his college professor-- a man who told Harlan that he would never amount to anything as a writer, and he should get a "real job". Harlan left school, became one of the most prolific writers of the 20th century, and sent literally every published piece of work, award and press story to the home of the professor who had once tried to put him in his place. This continued for over 20 years. "You're vengeful?" Brokaw said with an impressed sparkle in his eye. "Oh yes," Harlan said unapologetically, without a single trace of irony, " I think revenge is a very natural and healthy thing."
This is true, and coming from someone who has influenced my life so much, I needed to keep myself in check without completely agreeing with Ellison and running out with a Zorro mask in the middle of the night to do some childish car-egging. I do have an Irish Temper-- I have passionate, sometimes irrational, and very Irish blood in my veins, and when someone does something completely unjust and lacking in compassion in a way that hurts me or someone I care about, I go a little nuts. Life is too goddamn short to break someone's spirit in the interest of your own pride, your own insecurities, or your own inability to be a compassionate or
human contributor to the planet.
But it's been a year since my own spirit was broken-- since I was belittled and extremely hurt for no other reasons but selfishness and immaturity. And although it was devastating-- a word that I don't use to describe anything in my life except the loss of a few kindred lives-- it was one of the best things that's ever happened to me. I'm free from so many things now-- free from feeling bad about myself in the company of people I thought were friends, free from depending on other people for my own sense of belonging or happiness. I'm free from being led around by the shirt sleeve from the anxiety of transition, of "meaning" -- and now live my life by taking on the anxiety of the unknown, looking it in the face and challenging myself instead of hiding my head in the sand.
I've been working hard this year to be healthy, and for good cause. I convince myself to lace up my running shoes and leave the apartment, I eat healthy food and keep guilty pleasures to a decent moderation, I get enough sleep and I leave situations that are toxic. I'm looking for a job that is meaningful, I seek inspiring and deep relationships that won't make me lose myself.
It's a good year. I wish that it hadn't taken a very ugly event to get me to this place, but I can't deny that it was a catalyst for my
true independence to finally bloom. I've always been independent, but I used to be much more influenced by social groups, much more reliant on the acceptance and presence of certain people than I was comfortable with. True independence means being free of need, even when you tell yourself that you don't
need those people, that boyfriend, that acceptance-- it's still there. And I'm finally able to go it alone, and simply appreciate the friends and relationships that do come my way, without being paralyzed with fear that they'll disappoint me.
I hope that a year from now, I'll look back on this September and remember all of the amazing people I met, the art that I worked on, the projects that I worked hard on, the adventures I had. I hope I remember all the running socks, all the new books, all the amazing films. I think right now, there's nowhere to go but to keep going up, which is a profoundly humbling and exciting feeling.
It's going to be a beautiful fall... double rainbows, final cut pro, the Queen, and all...
cowboy & indian party at Justin's house last weekend...
