So I’m not really very good at looking forward. I will readily admit that in some ways, my ability to see things is rather desperately broken. I look back and I see all the foul-ups and broken dreams and promises that I’d made to myself, all the ways that I fall so short of where I feel that I should be that it is just too damn painful to try to look forward at a future that I’m not sure I can believe in.
But it kinda startles the hell outta me when I realize that even if I don’t believe in myself, others do.
In the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, I had something of a crisis of faith. I realized that I had no faith in myself, no faith in my ability to change. I wrote up a whole long post about it, in fact, that never really saw the light of day because I wasn’t certain what to do with it. There was no hope to be found in that work, no light at the end of that tunnel.
And yet… and yet the Magic, as Sara Crewe once said, was real. The Magic that wouldn’t let the worst things ever quite happen. Something beautiful happened in the wilderness of the Internet, something so completely unexpected and wondrous that it still makes my heart skip thinking about it.
I may not have any faith in myself, but I believe in others. I believe in the drive that people have to want to help those they care about, those they know somehow. I believe that people see so much pain and anguish around them that they are helpless to affect that when something comes up that they can help, they fall over themselves to do so.
It’s not that people don’t care anymore. It’s that there’s so much wrong that people don’t know where to start and that helplessness eats away at them. It shows up time and again. People want to help, they just don’t know how anymore.
And it’s the most humbling experience in the world to realize that people really care that much for me.
Thanksgiving and Christmas, this past year, became my own celebration of a healing that has not yet occurred. I am not yet out of this metaphorical winter of mine, but the promise of spring has been made. The Magic is real.
And so I look forward into a year that I cannot see. I don’t know what to hope for, what to resolve to accomplish, because I don’t know what, if anything I can truly manage when simply getting dressed is more than I can do most days.
A year ago I began the current revision of the Castellan Dreams tale. I went back to the original, incomplete draft that I’d abandoned in 2009, when everything in my life began to fall apart around me, and decided to let the story go where it was going to go. I’m stuck halfway through the third story arc and not even halfway through the original draft, but I’m making progress.
I finally went through and compiled the chapters of the first Story Arc into one document and I’m in the revision phase to take it to e-book. It’s something that I’d like to do with all the Story Arcs as I’m able to complete them. Eventually I want to see actual physical books and it might be that my best option is to self-publish through one of the many options available to writers because of the technological advances of the recent decades.
I don’t know that I’ll ever be “mainstream”, but I also don’t know that I really need to be, either.
So here’s a toast to 2015, may it be my best year yet, though that isn’t a real high bar to meet.