I love new beginnings. I love brushing off the lumps of yesterday's what if's and if only's and flinging them behind me. No need to let those awkward mistakes, regrets, and irritants pass through the fine sieve of the new year. Why stay at their mercy?
So I kick my miscarriages and Paul Hastings job fiasco to the gutter. I first stomp on them, with my fists clenched, face scrunched, all my effort concentrated on landing perfectly in place, and crush them like empty beer cans. I draw in a breath and swing my leg swiftly, aiming as far and high as I could. They land with a thud. May the dust settle where they will.
I squeeze my way into the new year, keeping my eyes wide open. I already feel lighter. And more hopeful. It is only the beginning of the year, and I have yet to grow my onion layers of spent days. From here, I will try to remember that things grow outward from within, and that it is my core I need to cultivate. I will try to remember to be kind to myself, nurturing what needs to grow, protecting what tends to cower. And I will try to see things with a clear perspective.
Like the ability to see that all I have to discard from 2008 are the miscarriages and the job fiasco. Just those three from a year's worth of living ain't too bad. And these are not purely unfortunate events. The Paul Hastings termination is a blessing in disguise since I would have surely been miserable had I worked in a law firm my whole life but may have lacked the guts to leave on my own. The experience was so shocking only because I had been so sheltered for the past decade. As for my miscarriages, I remind myself that just two years ago, I was whining about the possibility of being alone forever, and here I am today, with the sweetest man and the possibility of someday having children. The miscarriages are setbacks only because I did not view them as a normal byproduct of trying to have children, which I now am beginning to appreciate.
And if the tears come -- when the tears come -- I will tell myself that they are natural outgrowths of all that I have. Which is not necessarily a bad place to be.