Once upon a time (or a few months ago), a brilliant and beautiful blogger posted about how her wee two year old son randomly turned to her and said, “Mommy, you are a possibility.”
Is anyone else crying yet? Am I still suffering from sleep deprivation and PMS? Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street?
Fine. Maybe I AM still sleepy and hormonal, but I’m still convinced it’s a pretty damn magical statement. I just can’t stop thinking about it. I find myself randomly repeating it under my breath when I try and envision what 2011 is going to be. I am a possibility.
And I’m not the only one, damnit! I told a friend about this new mantra of mine, and she’s thinking about having it tattooed on her wrist. Well not the whole thing. Just “possibility.” The “mommy” part would be really weird seeing as how she doesn’t have kids. Crap I’m off track again…
Anything is possible. The world is my mollusk, as some would say.
The world is YOUR mollusk, too. YOU are a possibility. Doesn’t that make your heart sing?
Just imagine your possibilities! This time next year, you could be living in London and providing medical assistance to the undeserved. Or maybe you’ll be remarried and pregnant with twins. Maybe you’ll finally have landed that new job that allowed you to move back home to a quaint little town near your aging parents. Or maybe this is the year where you’ll have that sudden “Eureka!” moment that shows you just what you want to be doing with your life. Anything could happen! In twelve months time, you could have your green card and be living in Hawaii on the movie set of your screenplay. Maybe you’ll be Blogger of the Year and explode into internet superstardom! Or you could be dwelling in a Yurt somewhere off the grid like New Mexico, bartering the sweaters you knit from your home grown alpaca yarn for food and grain alcohol.
Or…you could be exactly where you are now…if you’re happy and contented and want to stay there. That’s ok, too. Not everyone is built for yurt living.
After reading this post (which also has crawled into my brain and evicted the lyrics of “Everybody Wang Chung Tonight” so that it could permanently reside there), I tried to write my own manifesto for the New Year…and failed miserably. See, I just keep coming back to being a possibility. I think that’s more than enough. So with that, here’s my list of New Year’s resolutions *slash* manifesto *slash* to-do list *slash* shit to carve into a stone tablet next time I’m wearing a toga and need to wax my ‘stache:
I know a year might not sound like much time, but I disagree. Not to get even hokier and more dramatic on your already overwhelmed asses (I see those um-Elly-we-come-here-to-read-about-crotch-jokes-and-ukulele-sex-what’s-with-all-this-sentimental-booshit vagina faces), but it’s been a few years since I’ve been able to think about planning for a whole new YEAR. I’ve been planning in three month chunks for what seems like an eternity. But this year? I’m planning and daydreaming for the whole damn thing.
Besides, your whole world can change in a single instant. Do you know how many possible instants there are in 2011? Shit, it’s only January 4th and I think I’ve had seventy-two life changing instants already. I’m so excited to be a possibility, I could piddle.