2012. Not my favourite year. Not many people’s favourite year. Roll on 2013.
I enjoyed 2011. It was tumultuous, but I felt like I came into my own, discovered myself again, got a little braver and faced up to some loss.
2012 was a slog. I feel like I had to face ALL of my stuff, ALL of the time, backed up by a voracious pace of months speeding by, deadlines to meet, events to attend, hearts to mend and self analysis to see to.
In terms of the ‘wasn’t all bad’, I did finally stand up from backbends and drop back by myself (buoyed up by some heady love hormones which kicked the Jaws theme tune I’d been hearing for months in the teeth), buy a Gregor Jenkin table (which makes my eyes glad), see Scandinavia, practice with David Swenson and Laruga Glaser, and have many moments of happiness with my many dazzling, funny and wonderful friends, including getting lost at OppiKoppi for 7 hours and sleeping in a drunk stranger’s tent (which was a frozen, dusty hell at the time, but hilarious in hindsight).
I also then had to face some startling disappointments, deal with some overwhelming anxiety and contemplate depression (and my various feelings about being “depressed”) for the first time in many years. Some boredom-induced creative block, and some information overload and what must be over-stimulation ADHD, left me high and dry and unable to write, with just a deep down rage on the simmer.
I’ve also become extremely time sensitive with age – when I was in my 20’s months would pass with me feeling love sick and heartbroken. Now I feel like there is no time to waste being sad … that doesn’t mean though that I’m not sad – I’m just more aware of time passing, days disappearing, with me feeling bereft in the ‘prime of my life’. Added to this I’ve also become more aware of my body changing as I head into my 30’s, triggering more feelings of clocks ticking time away. Tick tock.
In closing I’m hoping the Mayans were right. Bring on a consciousness shift.