Oh boy, do I hate airplanes.
Grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change
the courage to change the things I can
and the wisdom to know the difference.
I saw this prayer tattooed inside someone's forearm once. I'm glad there are tattoo artists out there who will do text, even though they'd prefer to be doing art. I have heard many tattoo artists complain bitterly about being artists not typesetters, but I'm still glad there are some who need the money badly enough to make a compromise. They get money for dinner, and maybe the vast majority of tattoo recipients get what amounts to a cheaply borrowed sentiment that only goes skin deep. I'm going to guess that for every 25 cheaply borrowed sentiments, there's one person who needs that tattoo like an A.A. meeting needs coffee. Who on earth needs the serenity prayer tattooed on their body somewhere easily viewed by the wearer? People who have a hard time doing what it says. People who have trouble accepting that there are things they can't change. People who know what needs changing, and who have trouble finding the courage to make that change. People who have trouble telling the difference. That's me, me, and me.
I've spent a lot more time in the past year writing about not being able to write than writing about anything else. I've spent most of three years thinking about and raging against things I can't change. I've hurt myself doing it. When I sat down to write this blog post, I saw that there was an unfinished draft of a post: more complaints about not being able to get unblocked, and I freaked out reading it. It finally hit me, finally. How much of my life am I going to spend thinking about how to spend my life, and complaining about not being able to spend it the way I'd prefer? How much of my life am I going to spend wrestling with the things I can't change? Maybe a little more, here and there. Sometimes, you have to turn your thoughts over in order to see what's going on. But honestly, once you know it's time to make a decision. You can't wish away reality. You can wait for reality to change, but you might be waiting for a long time. You might be waiting forever. You might get to the end of your life and regret all that waiting; I know I will, if I don't get my act together, accept the things I can't change, and change the things I can, to live a better life right now. I've taken enough time to ponder my choices. Now it's time to get out there.
I'm not altogether sure what this will mean for my blogging. This blog has been my sole creative outlet this year, and I've enjoyed making posts. I'm quite certain that I will not be able to post every day if I'm doing other creative things in addition to going to work, keeping house, tending my responsibilities, etc. I may need to move to a weekly model instead of trying to keep the daily posting going. Like I said, I'm not sure what's going to happen, but something must. It's time. It's past time, but it's time. I'm going to London in a few days, and I've just finished charging all of my electronics, printing out all of my confirmation pages, setting up my international cell phone service (all with a lot of help from someone special). I'm going to lay down and look at my travel book now, and then maybe I'll poke around the Internets to see what I can see. People keep saying, "Oh you MUST see the Tower of London." Well, I may, but again, I may not. I may instead go to places like the Museum of Broken Relationships, the Doctor Who Experience, the Tate Modern, the London Eye, and various and sundry restaurants (yes, we will have Indian, yes, we will have pub food, yes, I will let my daughter order something alcoholic). We will see David Tennant in Much Ado About Nothing. In the middle somewhere, we will attend the Leeds Music Festival.
Art. Music. Architecture. Food. Photography.
This is it. Let's get this party started.