It's about this time of year that it becomes apparent to me that I am not going to be Santa Claus. I have these vast generosity dreams of showering everyone I know with pertinent, thoughtful, exciting presents. Probably just guilt over being an introvert all year.
These thoughts lead me to take stock of my life to this point and it seems like i have never committed one way or the other to any clear goal. I'm treading water--holding a place--until I decide what I'm going to do. I never thoroughly do anything. Well, that's not true. I do give myself up to whatever I'm into at the moment but those moments never seem to add up to anything.
I just went out and looked at the full moon and the bright stars. It's warm and clear outside. I wish I were on a boat in the ocean so I could see the stars wheeling. I've heard they do that and it sound so nice. The wind is briskly blowing the trees so that they look like they're at an entmoot. Trees are my friends. They know everything but they don't talk much.
Anyway, at this time of year I feel I ought to decide one way or the other, to either be Ms. Super Career Woman or to get on with my poetic, artistic existence, sell everything and wander the world in search of true enlightenment. As if I could have made a choice before this and have gotten all the money I need to be Ms. Generous Claus. Ms. Benevolent. I think it also stems from guilt over the joy I have in being alone. I can get up at 4:00am and go outside and no one runs after me with annoying questions. Like "Honey, what are doing up at this time of night? Are you okay?" And I'm thinking, Yes, I'm super okay. It's the best time of the day, quiet and mysterious and I can feel closer to the universe than during the day. It's like my private time with the universe. All that questioning spoils my mood and disconnects me.
Deep in my soul is a happy humming to the beat of the universe. When it's quiet I can hear it. When it's noisy I can see it. I see it everywhere. Don't bother me. I'm busy.