I, Resolve

I do the anti-climactic, the ultra-cliche, and on New Years tell you I'm grateful.

And I resolve.

It was the last day of the year. I ran home, to tornado through, grabbing three things I'd methodically prepared to take, and whirl out. I had got as far as half down the drive, when God, a force, an energy, a storm chaser - stopped me in my spinful tracks. A flat tire.

I imagine as tornados rip through Oklahoma fields ripping up corn and berries and spreading dust over it's remains, building steam and stopping for none, they aren't subject to flats. It's as if my force, my God, said you call yourself what you want. Build yourself up, tear yourself down, but tornado you are not. Whirlwind you are not. Destroyer you are not. Faster than the wind. That you are not. You are human. You are frail. You are candid and see through as a lace blouse. I see you. I see you for who you are: someone in need of guidance. In need of direction. In need of a protector.

It was a friend who, in 2006, let me in on a little known secret I share: there is no good news, no bad news, no news, that is better or worse than any other news. It's all life. Not to be judged or prioritized in terms of importance. Getting a job, losing a job. Finding love, losing love. A new pair of underwear, a sassy pair of boots. A trip around the world, a romp to the grocery store.

It's all stuff.

Life.

That when viewed through goggles of non-judging, allows one to meet it, handle it, learn from it, move on from it. It injects emotion, and then lets one not be tortured by it. It's a lot about just being and is-ing and floating-like on the salt filled Dead Sea of life's tornadoes.

Be-ing and is-ing has been the lesson of 2009. Even if in to the wee-hours of the last day of it's year I fight it, it's still the lesson it set to teach. And on the first day of 2010 I close my notebook, power off my laptop, and accept it.

I tore home that last day of the year. Got half way down the drive. And a flat tire pulled the air out of that tornado, too. It was the middle of the night. I was alone. I had somewhere I had to be. And I had no way of getting there. It was raining, to boot.

In any story worth telling, there is always rain.

I woed to myself. Why me - in my Nancy Kerrigan whine. I had tried to be a good person, why me, God? Why me?

I got inside, shelter from the misting rain and called he who has my heart.

"I'll be right over. You know when I was younger I worked changing tires."

Well, well, well.

He picked me up, changed out my tire, in the next 24 hours, brought it in for patching, done by my favorite mechanic free of charge, and replaced.

Woe is me replaced with woo-hoo is me.

2009 brought unemployment, finally a once wonderful job turned terrible job I loathed, more unemployment, sadness, and at times jubilee. A wedding, a trip, a big birthday, and the birth of new favorite babies.

Sadness. Jubilee. At times stretching so thin as to make me feel invisible.

I don't know a lot. But I know when I listen to that friend's advice, and I remember it on the last day of one year and the first day of another, I'm soothed by the knowledge that when I am, I can be, and it just is, life will give me just exactly what I need when I need it most. A flat tire to stop me. A friend to fix it to humble me. The ability to show gratitude for it all through my favorite of avenues: the written word.

I resolve in 2010 and in all the decades I live, to trust, to not judge, to let my heart be taken. To notice that clock on Pico Boulevard that says 2:11pm at 2:11pm. To order the apple cobbler when the feeling takes me. To go to the gym less and listen to myself more. To wear rainboots in the sunshine. And play barefoot in the rain. To write a whole book I will sell at the store and people will read on their summer vacation.

To be. More often than not. I, resolve.

Happy New Year.