That Was Then

2018 is, well, tomorrow. And as it approaches I want to think more about how to greet it with open eyes and an open heart.

Typing this feels like suddenly standing on a stage, which surprises me. I didn't see that coming. I can feel all the familiar deflections and apologies welling to the surface: "Um, hi. I didn't really prepare anything; sorry. Haha." It feels like a moment.

The little "Edit" button is some reassurance—I can tell myself that whatever gibberish I post here, I can always go back and fix it later... write something better.

But countering that button is my own awareness, my recognition of pattern. Most of the time, if we're being honest, you never go back and revisit things like this. They stay as they were when you first posted them, when the moment of inspiration first struck.

Maybe, somehow, that's how it should be. Perhaps our authentic, in-the-moment blunderings and shortcomings are the most honest reflections of who we are and what we have to offer.

Or maybe, as Chris Rock and others say, you as the reader deserve an enhanced, super-version of me, since you've come all this way and all.

I will say that neither option feels very appealing or inspiring in this moment. I don't want to ramble, but nor do I have any grand, polished pearls of wisdom to share.

So I guess it begins like this.