A friend who I've always admired and who I can say with conviction that he will never fade in memories or thoughts said to me today - "Sometimes I think it's not circumstances... it's just the way I live my life." I wasn't very surprised, because I've thought that about him myself quite often. His uncanny ability to live life in a larger way than I have ever seen anybody around me live makes me wonder what keeps that indomitable spirit in him sparking through the circumstances that seem almost surreal from where I'm standing. For all the time that I've known him, he's been a captivating and rather quixotic figure in my mind. It was when I read that note of despondency that I realized I would never take that note seriously. Disillusionment could not survive long inside him. I realized that no matter what he does or does not do, or how broke he is, or how high-paying his job is or whether he has one at all, he is probably the one person in the world I would consider successful. No matter what.
I was reading what I'd written recently about home being the place where thoughts don't often have more than a few words and where is no need for complex thoughts. How quickly things can change. :) How easy it is to get caught up in a euphoria that hinges on untested qualities in people. I'm unsure about a lot of things in my life right now... ability, security, love. Thank God I still know how to recognize the faces of kindred spirits from among the crowd, to seek out the company of those who hear what the child in me has to say and with whom I can share the things closest to my heart. It doesn't matter what or how much I share... just knowing that these people bring to the surface the thoughts and images that used to make me happy as a child, the ones that will endure, affirms a trust that I don't have to rely on memories and everyday affections to feel. How odd that only a few years ago I used to seek out those who would listen to what the adult breaking the mind's ground had to say.
The New Year is a good time for stock-taking, I suppose. I found myself asking myself last night what meant the most to me. In a neon-hued flash that was simultaneously disturbing and exhilarating (what is life without a little drama, eh?), I realized that I didn't have one answer to that questions. All of a sudden, I felt wickedly adventurous and slyly whimsical. Well, to be fair, I have been being whimsical on the odd occasion all season, but it was the first time I'd have consciously applied that particular adjective to that state of being. All of a sudden, the very things that I fell back on to rationalize the blurring edges of ambition and impulse began feeling like encumbrances. What a remarkable coincidence that I find my long-lost, roving friend waving to my restless soul from strange and exotic lands just the morning after! Well, a happy new year to me, and all that jazz! *shark-toothed grin*
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