June mark’s the half way point of 2014 and as such I thought it was time to review my New Year’s resolution. I’ve had 6 months to work on it. 6 months. And so far, I’ve failed miserably at accomplishing even a single part of it. Which, ironically enough means I’ve accomplished the first bit. But that’s cheating.
For those interwebbers out there wandering what this nonsense is that I’m talking about, it’s My 2014 Resolution blog post. For those interwebbers out there untrusting of hyperlinks or uninterested in my rambles, here’s the abridged version of my hopes and dreams:
- I want to fail miserably.
- I want to get my heart broken.
- I want to get a bone broken.
So out of context these goals for my resolution sound quite worrisome, which is why you should really take me up on the offer to get some of the back story here. I mean, even with that you might still think I’ve lost it. And I have. That’s the idea. I want to throw sanity out the window and live instead of think. Apparently that’s what your twenties are for according to every non-twenty year old expert anyway. Doing dumb things. My dumb things are just a little bit dumber.
Like I said in my previous post, “I want to live each day with no reservations — not like it’s my last, but like it’s another day and chance to fuck shit up just so that I can rebuild, better.” That was the main purpose for my resolutions anyway. Mess up a lot and get better. But an unexpected benefit of not caring if I fail, get my heart broken or break a bone is that it’s brought some interesting things my way. Things that would have never happened if I wasn’t out chasing my dumb resolutions.
In not caring about failing, I’ve landed some dream gigs. I’ve found opportunities to write about what I love. My one day goal of becoming a travel writer became a sudden reality. In shooting for the stars and not caring where I landed or how hard I hit the ground on my way back down, several freelance articles have come way allowing me to dive into the world from a words point of view. I’ve been able to contribute to travel sites, blogs and books. I’ve extended those opportunities into the tourism market where again taking aim at a potentially unreachable target has landed my arrow in the backside of another mark I didn’t even know was there. And not worrying about failing has helped me in my 9-5 job as an adman as well. On the creative side, I’m in charge of thinking up dumb ideas. I have to put my concerns for failure aside to get anything done. So how better to do that than embrace failure? I think of dumb stuff, get shot down, and think of more dumb stuff until one of those dumb things turn into a smart thing. This method has landed me on some great accounts and even more exciting new pitches. As a junior copywriter, those opportunities very rarely arise. So I have my resolution towards failing miserable to thank for them.
In not caring about the state of my heart, I’ve allowed myself to be vulnerable to new gentleman suitors and old friends and family of times passed. I can’t really say I was shy to the dating scene to begin with, but how I’ve been handling the fellas lately since I’ve set my resolution to get my heart broken is different. Although I’m still a single cat lady minus the cat, I can say that I’ve at least experienced a few whirlwinds that have showed me there are catches out there. I just have to be willing to return a word that I’m cautious about: affection. Now, if you know me you know that I’m by no means made of stone. I have emotions. But I also believe that caring about someone or even worse “loving” them only means leaving your heart out on a silver plate ready to be carved up by Freddy Krueger (I know, cue the violins). But that’s coming to an end. I’m no longer willing to suffocate a feeling just because I’m afraid of what it may cause once reacting to the oxygen in the real world. And it’s created meaningful relationships in my life. Friends that I’ve always held close have gotten closer. I’ve turned to them in hard times and more importantly they know now they can turn to me as well. My family has always been a part of my life and now is even a bigger part of it. Setting myself up for heartbreak has lead to my first encounter with my dad in over 10 years. Now although there’s no storybook ending that will come with it, I can thank seeking to get my heartbroken for the WD40-like vulnerability that’s been opening up the rusted lock.
In not caring about the state of my bones or body, I’ve climbed a fucking mountain. Actually, 3 of them. I flipped the bird to safety and jumped on a plane to Peru. Over a two week span I backpacked my way to Machu Picchu, climbed it, climbed it’s taller neighbor Huayna Picchu, and climbed a third mountain the next day just for shits and giggles. The rocks were wet, the ladders were broken and the paths were not really paths, but I took on the climb by the horns. In seeking to break a bone, I was able to shatter my fears. The action to destroy my body took me to San Francisco where I hiked, biked and climbed my way all around the bay. For my 24th birthday, I decided to go on a 24 mile bike ride that lead me to the red woods where of course I had to try to climb one. I beat my body up, burnt it, threw it into the ocean, and then left it aching on the beach to dry. And you know what? I’ve never had a better birthday gift. I’m ready to keep throwing myself into the way of danger because it’s lead to some pretty amazing adventures. Ones that I wouldn’t have ever come across if I wasn’t out searching to fulfill my resolution of breaking a bone.
So, maybe accomplishing my resolution(s) this year is a bit harder than I thought it would be. But I’ve made some valiant efforts even though I still keep coming up dry. Well, not completely dry. Some of the things that have happened along the way have been some added benefits of doing dumb stuff, sure. But my main goals remain unreached. Still, I’m not a quitter. And there’s another six months left of 2014. So let’s see if I can fit a few more attempts in before 2015 comes knocking.