This year has certainly made me a little shabbier, a little more worn. It has tattered me and pulled me to pieces and then stitched me back up again, in new and different forms. What it hasn't done, and what I expected it to do, was break me. It has taught me how strong I am, it has made me stronger. I bend now, but I don't break. Or maybe I always bent, I just looked for fissures and fractures as indicators that I was broken, not that I may part at the seams for new growth to take place.
I rarely write anymore, which makes me sad. I love to write. I love the feeling of taking nothing, just words that have might have meaning on their own and giving them meaning that's my own. I love seeing a space that's blank get filled with letters. It makes me really happy.
I just thought maybe I'd write a little and see what happened, because despite how this year might look to someone on the outside, this year has been one of my better years because I learned so much about myself. I'm always on this quest to find myself, and I think I always will be, which I don't mind, but is exhausting sometimes. Wanting to really know yourself, not just the little things that make you tick, but the big things and the in-between things, and hell, even some little things, too.
I used to use the name Transient Bliss for myself on my blog, and that's really how I felt, that bliss was fleeting. I loved this line from a Modest Mouse song: "If life's not beautiful without the pain, well I'd really rather never see beauty again." And I still love it, but I don't agree anymore about not seeing beauty again.
Without the hurt I've felt this year, I don't think I'd appreciate that I'm sitting alone on Christmas morning, with only some dogs for company, a fire burning, watching Hunger Games and sipping coffee for as beautiful as it really is. I cried a little, you should know that, because I think it's okay that I cried. But I didn't cry because I was sad, but more because I never really realized how strong I could be until today. I am strong and I can withstand more than I ever thought I could.
I am from the fire and of the fire.
I am whole and pieces.
And that is just fine with me.