Crunchy ‘Nanas

Happy Obama Day!

I’ve been feeling pretty good today, so happy, but my neighbors, man, they are so sweet. I had just gone for a run (a run? I know – amazing!), stretched and was almost in the shower when I heard a knock at the door. It was my neighbor from next door. “As it’s inauguration day, your special day, we thought we’d bring you these.” She handed me a bouquet of flowers. How sweet is that?

I feel as if a great big blanket of doom is being lifted. I can’t even hear the words “President,” “Obama,” “American,” without welling up. I’ve cried today, I admit it. I wish I could have been in London to party, but we’re having our own shindig here tonight.

When we celebrate in this house, it usually means busting out the burritos. Today, I even bought some Corona for the honey. And a lime. I know, we go all out.

I’m so excited, so optimistic, so hopeful! Once again, proud to be an American.

And, happy birthday, mom! Yahoo!!

The last notable thing that happened in 2008 was that Santa, or one of his invisible representatives, gave me the virus. He had cookies coming out of his ears, and still he choose to leave germs instead of, like you know, an iPhone.

However, I am not really complaining because I was only completely down for the count on Boxing Day (yes, I ate my roast in bed – at least I could eat, I know) and my real life Santas from all over the world blessed me with cards, photos, funky cool knitted arm warmers, California poppies, a ‘nana saver (which deserves a post of its own), rockin’ CDs, ho-hos and Nutter Butters – my favorite! iPhone take that!

But, back to the virus. You know, the one that everyone around the world has right now. Or one very much like it. Like I said, it only knocked me out completely for a day or so, so I was lucky in that respect. But, that incompletely part totally kicked my ass. Not being sick but being sick has to be one of the most annoying things. I went for a run on New Year’s Eve and got to mile 2.5 and thought, “wow, I’m done” even though I had felt fine before I started putting one foot in front of the other.

However, this week has been better. Wednesday, I decided to venture out into the land of “it’s not much but it’s got to be better than nothing, even if that something is totally mental”. I did yoga. I didn’t die. Granted, it was not too demanding of a session, but still, I didn’t spend the entire session working on my breath in child’s pose.

Yesterday, despite the immense fog that blanketed the land, my friend and I resumed our Thursdays cycling. Having both been sick, we took the mountain bikes out to Fowlmead, saying this way we can do as little as we want (so hard core, I know!). We thought we’d take a spin off road, but then decided that avoiding the trees in the dark mist sounded better than abrasions and fractures, so we kept to the track.

We didn’t end up doing very much (though we did enough to get the blood pumping to my hands and feet at least), but it felt slightly satisfying knowing that, once again, I didn’t feel like I needed to crawl into bed for the next week. So really, I’m hoping it’s the thought that counts. Fingers crossed.

In September 2007, I had this feeling, this all encompassing, deeply permeating idea that 2008 was going to be the year, my year, where everything was going to come together. (It sounds incredibly naive and silly now, but I really was filled with intense hope and positive expectations.) Yet, with a death of a loved one at the beginning and another at the very end and my dad’s illness in the middle, it didn’t feel like I thought it was going to be. It is not to say good things didn’t happen – they did, and for those I am immensely thankful, but I would be lying if I said my intuition was right about 2008.

Coming into 2009, I don’t feel any of that. I don’t have too many expectations, one way or the other. Instead, I simply have this huge urge to clean, to get rid of all the junk in my life, most of it mental and emotional, though we did take down the Christmas tree and all the decorations last night, so now my house fits together properly again. (I think it was a bit soon for Crunchy husband, Twelfth Night and all that, but I was done having furniture thrown around willy-nilly, chairs facing walls and blocking bookcases. It was not very harmonious in our little room and I felt it.)

My brain cleaning – because that’s where there seems to be the most junk, besides our garage and the kitchen utility drawer – is centered around one thing: my anxiety. I’ve recognized it is what controls how I feel as a person, my confidence, my creativity, my drive, my outlook. Back in November, I started this giant spreadsheet, my big plan of action to get my groove back on, the BPOATGMGBO for short, with things I need to do to take back control and get my game on. Each thing on the list, either on its own or in tandem with other items, will help me deal with my anxiety by resolving its causes or teaching me to accept (and be content with) the things that are beyond my control. It’s a different list than I am used to because most things aren’t one-offs that I can cross off as I go (and I get so much satisfaction out of that!), but I believe it has the power to focus me where I need to go.

If there ever was a year that contained an open door for unhappiness and despair, it might have been 2008. But, I think I gave it a run for its money, for the most part anyway. It wasn’t always sunny, but then again, it could have been a lot gloomier too.

I will get to where I want to be, one day at a time, sometimes a step back and other days a stride forward. But first things first. The time has come to replace old socks with much brighter, colorful ones the Californian Santas sent me from their trip to the Southwest. I must spark some life into this mid-winter grayness.

2009? Bring it, baby. I’m ready.