The new year generally doesn’t mean all that much for me. I tend to make resolutions with very little, if any, intention of achieving them. They tend to be the same also: eat better, spend less, exercise more. Pretty standard stuff. But this year, I do feel a sort of Control-Z-ness to the passing of December 31 to January 1, 2011. I have a sense that maybe this is a new beginning. It’s true to all those zen enough to live in the moment, to be always present, to achieve true mindfulness, that each moment is a new beginning. The past is gone. The future is just an idea. But now, now is the beginning of everything to come.
I’m excited for everything to come. I’ve felt bored recently, with work and whatnot, but realize that boredom is not the fault of any external factors (work, etc.) but of my own approach to it all. My mind is deft and just plain silly enough that I can generally be rather entertained in a white room with but a white chair. I rarely expect to be entertained by outside sources, which tend to fail me anyway, or at least, leave me wanting so much more. To be engaged my brain needs to be engaged and it is not engaged when I’m being entertained – especially if both sound and vision are provided. This leaves my brain in an idle and merely accepting place. It’s a one-way street, and a one-sided relationship. They communicate and I listen. My brain doesn’t much like this. It gets bored.
So I’m grabbing the reins here in 2011 a bit more and seeking to un-bore myself. I want to stretch out into areas I’ve yet to go – business-wise, artistically, personally. I want to be challenged and I want to fail. I always figure that if you try and fail, it’s only a half-failure, but if you don’t try (when you most certainly should or could), then you’ve truly failed. I tend to push my ideas out into the world, but have them on a short leash. Allow some to see and hear but for the most part keep them a bit veiled, even hidden. But I resolve in 2011 to push them out further and to fail as publicly as needed. Failure doesn’t hurt; but avoiding failure will kill you in the end – slowly and sadly.