... um, now what?

it’s january 3rd... almost january 4th... and i find myself staring blankly at 2010, as though it’s a mountain someone’s asked me to move and i now need to figure out how.

starting out a new year with a clean slate is a nice idea, in theory. but what if your slate is so clean that the slate itself seems to have vanished?

even though there’s been plenty of reflection and introspection over the past couple of weeks, none of it has provided me with insight regarding what’s yet to come. which makes sense, i know, because i was looking back instead of ahead and because, you know, i’m not psychic.

while the world’s been on a collective holiday over christmas and new year’s, i’ve felt like i’ve been on hiatus. cocooned. like i’ve held myself in a protective stasis, not really facing life or reality, because i could distract myself with watching DVDs or making cookies or doing lots of laundry.

as 2009 wound to a close, though, i was scrambling to find something concrete to anchor myself in the new year. but the more i searched, the more confused i felt and the more i feared i was just grasping for random, inauthentic (for myself) branches. so i tried to stop thinking altogether, and hoped some answers would magically come to me if i simply curbed my obsessing about the questions.

yet the holidays are over, the world resumes turning tomorrow and any answers have evidently been waylaid by the universe. my hiatus is over and, per the island metaphor of dec. 31st, i have to start swimming again.

i know i have a lot to work on in the new year, personally and professionally. but i feel like i have no clue where to go or what to do.

so, for the immediate future, i’m going to start with little things i know i can tackle quite readily, the completion of which will also allow me to check items off a to-do list with a sense of modest accomplishment. just some small stuff that probably needs doing – like polishing my resumé and updating my portfolio and brainstorming ideas about what i might do with both – as a means of continuing forward movement, even if it’s only in negligible increments. limping is still walking, after all.

and, as i walk (or limp), i’ll hopefully be packing a pocket or two with a few tiny stones.

because, and i’ve cited this analogy before but will drag it out once again: a mountain the size 2010 can only be moved by taking it one pebble at a time.