Karen Rivers


Karen Rivers

I have been breaking a lot of glass this week.  Maybe it's a metaphor, except it isn't a metaphor.   There's half a beer bottle, part of a drinking glass, and a crushed lightbulb in my recycling box to prove it.   Glass things just keep slipping out of my hands.

That's not a metaphor either.

It's a new year.   Does that mean that things will be different?   Why should it?   Calendars are so arbitrary.   This is the end.   This is the beginning.   

Start fresh!   Do it now!

I said I didn't make resolutions but I might have lied.    I think I do make them, but I whisper them secretly to myself in a dark room where no one can hear me.    Maybe everyone does that.   We say it out loud, "Oh, resolutions.   Nope, not for me."  But inside, we're saying, "Ten pounds thinner, three novels finished, healthier diet, regular exercise, more fun, and for the love of God and all things holy, no more procrastinating."  

We have a new calendar.   Last year it was native art, this year it is the art of illusion.    Look at all the metaphors, everywhere, falling down like frogs from the sky!

I am making some resolutions and this blog is my dark room.   

I resolve to be kinder to myself.  I am always beating myself up for things said or done wrong.    I am unforgiving.    I don't let things go.   


I am going to change that.

I resolve to stop trying to control everything and everyone in my life.  

I am a control freak, it's true.  It's probably why I am a writer.   On paper, I'm in charge.   I can make my characters jump as high as I want them to jump, fall as far as I want them to fall, and react how I want them to react.   I understand them.

I don't understand all the people in my life but I'm going to try to stop trying to control them.   I like to control them, it makes me feel safe.  Not to control them directly, but to manufacture some kind of modicum of control by understanding them, by constantly knowing everything about them, by never looking away from the road, even when I'm not driving.  

I'm going to let go of that.

Are those resolutions?   I don't know.   Somehow this whole post feels Buddhist or annoyingly New Age-y.  But still,  I am going to choose to not suffer, that's what I'm going to do.  It's just how I feel right now.   I don't feel like adopting a doctrine, buying into a spiritual manifesto, I just want to be OK in my own skin.    Breathing.   Alive.   Happy.

So that's it.   I'm going to let go and ride the current for a while and see what happens, all the while being nicer to myself, having more fun, seeing more friends, carving off more time, reading more books and finishing more projects.  

And laughing more.

The laughing is the most important part.   Sometimes I get so busy, I forget.   

I'll try to drink more water, too, but that probably won't happen.

I don't really like water.