the one that reminds me of the color turquoise

moments of perfect, inescapable, exquisite joy. they've become so much more rare as i've gotten older. credit cards, double shifts, paying rent, term papers, endless questions beginning with "what are you going to do with the rest of your life". there's so much static i can't hear myself think, i can barely hear myself breathe, drowning out the happiness. the new year began for me on a nameless day in october. i don't remember the date, i didn't write it down. for the first time in three years, i felt it again. quiet, inexpressible, but violently exuberant, colorful and vivid. the moment was the catalyst, the impetus. the return of the sun, the crashing of waves you've been watching for hours but only just now can you hear them again, breaking across the shore, glittering. it's not the moment that was so important, though, it was the consequences it carried. i made a decision, a realization, a coming to terms, and the universe opened up once again and i could finally see the stars. the past three months have been groundbreaking for me, personally, socially, spiritually. i've struggled with documenting this change, because it was so abstract, so intangible. it's personal in the most intimate way, yet it makes me want to shout it in the faces of everyone i know. 

i just returned from a short road trip, wherein i spent the traditional coming of the new year in a living room full of the most important people to enter my life to date, wrapped up in the fresh, raw feeling of  post-fight camaraderie, tinged with letdown, alcohol, and an abiding feeling of content and unexpected symmetry. we sloshed back champagne, and later sipped fine whiskey. questions were posed, answers were not questioned. even then, i couldn't think of what i needed most for the new year, and it seemed even more pressing, since i was three months ahead of everyone else. one sun-drenched bike ride and one resentment-tinged car ride later, all i could stomach was deep sleep and a mind numbing day in front of the the television. tonight, i returned to my trashed duplex, food quietly rotting in the corner of the kitchen, the reek of cigarettes and stale beer still sharp in the air, and made my decision.

this year, and the years that will follow, will not be about resolutions. they won't be about what i won't do anymore, what i'll "give up". it's not about quitting smoking, losing weight, getting my finances under control, stopping procrastinating. it's not about abstaining from anything, but about not abstaining from anything. it's about seeking out and savoring those moments of joy. when you're riding your bike as fast as you can, the night laying on your shoulders like a warm hand, the lights glittering off the water next to you, and a smile breaks your lips without thought. everything falls behind you, you shed your skin and emerge into the cool air naked and breathless, no thoughts, just emotion. these are the moments i will seek, savor and inspire in others. these are the moments i will remember. i will absolve myself from regret, from anything that does not further this goal. and i will live such that each tomorrow finds me farther than today, i will live for and honor progress, both personal and collective. i will forge relationships that are meaningful and joyful and purge myself of those that are not. i will love with abandon, recklessly and wholly. 

to those of you who have been by my side through the worst of it, and especially to those who have recently found their way into my life, i look forward to the future. 

where will we go, who will we meet, and what will we create next?