January thoughts

I am always waiting for myself to go through a radical reinvention. Willing myself to, actually. January and the new year adds a sense of urgency to that. I have visions of peace and serenity – I am to feel complete without my vices, no longer be anxious about anything, commit to a ten-step skincare routine and have balanced hormones. Maybe this year, I’ll even start enjoying green smoothies. Maybe this year, I’ll even stop criticizing myself. 

In movies, change comes fast to people. In two hours, they hit rock bottom, weather their life-changing storms and come back as someone entirely new to solve all their problems. Most such plots seem taxing and distraught, but wouldn’t it be nice to just zip through it all? Wouldn’t it be easier? 

Last Friday, we were gifted Mac Miller’s second posthumous album. The genius of art derived from devastation is nothing short of heartbreaking. When I remembered it was the release date, I was drinking iced coffee at 10 a.m and crying over something that was out of my control, in classic pre-radical-reinvention form. I first listened to his music when I was sixteen. His music always kept me company. He's pulled me out and through and helped me feel like things will be okay, to “put some money on forever”. A forever of growth. A forever of showing up as is. I finished my coffee, finished the album and did my laundry. How beloved and missed you are. 

Speaking of Fridays, weekends at school always seem to last about two seconds. I haven’t had Friday classes since freshman year, yet years of three-day weekends never felt like they left me much free time. Sometimes you spend the whole day doing nothing, yet you blink and the sun is setting. Then you’re debating whether you want to go drink vodka crans at Olfs or stay home and read tarot cards with your roommate. Half the time I opt for the former, I wish I’d done the latter. It all probably boils down to needing to be more present in the moment, or some time management gimmick, but time has never been a quantifiable concept for me. Maybe we’re zipping through things a lot more than we realize. 

Last summer, I sat on a park bench with a friend, complaining about how I wanted an extra week of summer break while he scrolled through my bucket list. He told me I should go parachuting instead of paragliding. The jump makes it more meaningful, he said. I don’t know about meaningful, but I’m not a big jumper. I prefer a subtle glide. Free-falling is terrifying. That’s why drop towers are the only rides I could never go on at amusement parks. 

I imagine my reinvention will be subtle, somehow, too, all the while being radical. An anxiety free and green tea drinking life will surely fall into my lap. Right? All that to say, maybe I’m just trying to put off doing the work. Maybe I just need to buy a blender and make the damn smoothie. 

“I spent the whole day in my head,
Do a little spring cleaning” - Mac Miller