Saturday, December 31, 2011

Oh, 2011.

I started you off kind of poorly and almost seriously injured so you and I, we only had up to go from there.

We had some bumps, still, along the way. I spent a lot of you quite sick with George Washington's germs,  and recovering from the buildup and subsequent disappointing collapse of my trip to Nicaragua. A lot of time spent being just plain tired. But then at the same time there were so many weddings and celebrations and dance parties, so much laughing all over New York and magic Orcas Island. I learned about shooting guns and circus skills and finishing graduate school, and December in particular has brought an incredible number of impending babies and marriages. I have done a lot of kissing and dancing and, as always, had a lot of fun.

So I don't know. You remember how this time last year I was thinking almost constantly about the ways to build a life worth valuing, on how to do more good and less harm. About all the fires that we walk through just to be able to look ourselves in the eye, and how these are really the only battles that matter. More and more I think about the Larkin poem I mentioned the other week, and about making ships in bottles out of more good things than we could fit back out the doorways. These are still my plans, you know--doing more good than harm, looking and seeing and remembering, holding on to the best parts of these adventures and learning from the rest. As though there was any other option.