Out with a whimper

Today is the last day of 2016. It was...rough. Creatively, personally, professionally...just not a great year all around for the Rebel. I had plans that never seemed to get off the ground. Books that were abandoned, or never started. It was just a difficult year.

I think the end of one year into the beginning of a new fills everyone with hope. Like "yeah, next year will be my best year." Well I'm not going to go there this time around. Because tomorrow follows today, just as today followed yesterday. There is nothing cleansing about a calendar change, not really. Our minds and hearts may tell us that it is so, but when you get down to it, every day is just another day. It's up to us how good or bad we let it become.

One of the most powerful things I read this year was just a little meme/snippet/picto thing that said "Was it really a bad day, or was it a bad five minutes that you milked all day." I mean, damn. That's almost always my truth. I have a bad moment, and let it ruin my entire day. Now I try to keep that in the forefront of my thoughts all day. This too shall pass. That was a bad phone call, but it's over and I can move on now. I have one annoying task to get through, but once it's done it's done and I can go work on something better.

It's a lot like writing. This scene sucks, but I can always go back and fix it later. That's how I need to live my days. The morning was rough, so I will edit my attitude and go back for a great afternoon. Boom. Life changed.

In the coming weeks I will be sharing more frequently. I will be trying to focus on the positives and letting go of the negatives. I will be writing more, connecting more and being more active. I hope to make more friends and create stronger bonds with existing ones.

I hate to end on a sad note after all of that, but I wanted to share with you the eulogy I wrote for David Bowie at the beginning of the year. This I think was the catalyst for my downward spiral of a year. Losing him was torture for me, and there hasn't been a day that's passed that I haven't thought about him and what he meant to me. Losing him, and losing my dad eight years ago, were the two most horrific events in my life, and every day without them is a physical ache. I am healing from both, but the wounds will never fully close. They were and will always be, two of the most important people ever to fill my life with their love. And moving into a new year without them will be just as hard, but I will try to focus on all of the good things they gave me, rather than the devastating pain of their loss. Be well and safe tonight, hug your loved ones and keep them close. Ring in the new year with hope and dreams and goals, and I'll see you on the flip side.

Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered...
By now, if you follow me you've seen my new tattoo. It is my first and my only. Those of you who know me personally of course understand it's deep meaning to me. But for those that don't, I would like to explain. This week, the unthinkable happened. The world lost a musical genius, and I lost the man who helped me find myself. David Bowie was more than a musician, more than an artist, more than an actor. He was a force of nature. He was beautiful, he was smart and he was so different. An entity who changed with his own tide, not the sway of the world. When I was a child, I heard the song Rebel Rebel for the first time and my life changed. David Bowie gave me my name. He gave me hope and promise that being different, being weird, wasn't just an honorable pursuit, but a necessary one. I have been in a fog this week, unable to really process what's happened. He can't be gone. He just can't, and yet the stars look very different today. The only loss that has felt more painful than this one, was the loss of my father. But this pain is different. I didn't love David in a familial way. My love for him was not genetic, was not ordained, was not a sense of societal obligation. Like a spouse, I CHOSE to love him. I opened my heart and my soul to him because I wanted him in my life. I needed him to be a part of me. And he was. In ways too numerous to count. So here I sit, having fought my way through a thirty five year labyrinth with him by my side, and now...I am alone. His memory is an almost physical force next to me, yet there is no one there. The ache in my heart is so deep, so heavy, so vast...I don't know how I will recover. So yesterday I got the first words that Bowie ever spoke to me permanently imprinted onto my body, the way that he will forever be imprinted on my soul. A physical reminder that what he gave me can never be taken away. A reminder to embrace my weird, chase my dreams and most of all...let all the children boogie.


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