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this is the new year

2007, neatly bisected into “without him” and “with him”, allowed me the clearest of Before and After photos. Just like in the denture-cleaner commercials, my life, briefly dunked, came out sparkling.

I like to tell the story of how our paths crossed nine years ago through his store, five years ago through LiveJournal, and last year through the briefest of emails. I like to tell the story, but mostly I like it when he tells the story, because I think the historian makes a better storyteller than the archivist.

With truth and love comes peace. So many things unsorted and confusing in the beginning half of 2007 are now utterly clear. I recovered from my ennui because there is nothing to be sad about anymore: I know who I am and where I am going and who I want with me on the way. I try now to express to my friends the love and respect I have always felt for them but was too self-conscious to show. I try now to let work be work instead of an identity, and I try now to write more than I talk about writing.

I have learned so much from 2007. Do rather than talk about doing; speak more positive words than negative ones. Ask for what you want. Know when enough is enough, and say so. Tell the people you love that you love them. Take risks; embrace change. Realism and optimism are not mutually exclusive. And most of all, there is very little that a cup of tea and slice of homemade bread cannot fix, so keep both on hand.

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.