I’m a phenomenally fortunate fellow. While I don’t deny that life’s obstacles sometimes come barreling my way – noisy neighbors, horrid drivers, telemarketers, beautiful women, a scuffed shoe, STOP signs, my spam folder – these aggravations are first world problems, infrequent and relatively inane (knock on wood).
In fact, so much wonderful stuff has happened over the course of these past two months in particular that blessed is the term that leaps to mind when I consider my circumstances. This isn’t to say I’ve always had it this good. Ah, contraire, my fine dandelion. I’ve walked through a furnace or two, slogged through that valley of the shadow of death more than once. Yet these things have tempered me like molten, hammered steel. I’ve likewise been drenched in cool, quiet waters. This sword, though still flawed, now gleams brightly.
Indeed, I’ve no doubt part of the reason for my joy and gratitude stems from my experiences crossing that ring of fire. Only Brunhilde is not my reward. Nay. That Valkyrie in the Norse myth seeks not my arrival or rescue through that fabled sheet of flame. She’s a mere metaphor for what awaits me on the other side – peace and contentment. Though my brows are singed, I’m enveloped in an appreciation for all that has gone before.
I now have three wonderful jobs, two of which pay well (the third is writing, which pays nothing). Granted, this means less free time. However, I’m trading in some of my free time for making, saving, and (admittedly) spending more money.
Despite the additional work hours, I still manage to read and write and go over my languages. Got to keep my brain active with more than the ubiquitous tedium of hygiene habits, work schedules, household chores, and laundry days.
To keep myself on track with my lifelong passions and otherwise noble pursuits, this year I made some New Year’s Resolutions, something I’d neglected doing for the past few years. But before you roll your eyes and dismiss my resolve as nothing more than naïve, empty promises, I would ask that you note this isn’t my first pool party. I’m pretty good about keeping resolutions or at the very least getting close enough to the goal to warrant the effort. My New Year’s spread for this year is as follows:
1. Be Nice.
I’m a great guy. Once you convince me you’re worth my time, I’m one of the warmest, kindest, most insightful, conversational, brilliant, giving guys you could hope for (at least that’s what I’ve plugged into my dating app bios). A genius no less. And yet I remain so humble. But yes; I know. I’m smug, demanding, and far too sexy for most of you Earthlings. I’ve no interest in investing or sharing time with those with whom I have little to nothing in common.
But back to my New Year’s Resolution. To be nice. So far, this effort has taken the form of charity and gift giving, a practice that pairs well with my recent adoption of the lifestyle known as Minimalism. Thus, as I abnegate possessions that I stored in boxes ages ago and haven’t touched since, I find myself assuming the role of Father Christmas (sans the costume and false beard) well into January. I’ve limited this gift giving to fellow guys primarily so that women don’t think I’m either flirting or fishing for favors. The rest I’m donating to Goodwill.
My ideal charity work would be to read to the elderly or the blind. I suspect this role isn’t as sought after as it once was, however, before the invention of the television (or, as my grandmother was fond of calling it, The Idiot Box), but sitting at their bedside and reading either the classics or something comparable aloud would give me great pleasure. I know I should be thinking about what would instead give the recipient pleasure, but I’m still a work in progress, so back off.
2. Read 40 Books.
Twenty of them must be important works. For example, one would be Man’s Search for Meaning by Victor Frankl. True, I read this book many years ago, but I want to read it again. I’ve read more than 50 books in a year before, but that’s nearly a book a week, and I wasn’t as busy back then as I am today. I recently visited a site that listed 100 of the so-called Great Classics of Literature. I was disappointed in myself when I discovered I’d read only about 23 of them. I’ve got my work cut out for me.
I realize 40 books in a year isn’t particularly impressive for a writer. It’s certainly not as many as some, but let’s be wicked for a moment; it’s far more than most read throughout their entire, vapid lives.
3. Save Eight Grand.
This won’t be difficult since I use a wonderful app called EveryDollar.com. The app allows you to punch in your earnings and expenses and then shows you in pie chart form where your money is going and how much of it you have left at the end of each month. It’s a great way to plan, economize, and save. Been using it for the past several years and have already managed to save quite a bit of moolah, more than enough to purchase several life-improving upgrades, including an assortment of affectations – walking canes, monocles, bowties – and Pikachu plushy collectibles to replace my throw pillows on my couch made entirely of lynx fur.
4. Finish all my Duolingo and LingoDeer App Lessons in the Japanese Language.
This isn’t an unreasonable goal. After two years, I’m already nearly halfway there. It’ll require more time than I’ve set aside in the past, but I’ve found that the more I learn, the faster the subsequent stuff clicks. Best example I might provide is when tackling a musical instrument. Initially, everything is new. Take guitar, for instance. Just pressing your fingers against the fretboard’s strings can cause pain. Shaping chords is a challenge. But over time, after learning a few chord progressions and scales, building up those calluses, developing those finger muscles and that motor memory, learning new pieces of music is far easier than the first basic etudes you were taught only a few weeks or months into your studies. Now you’re playing along to recordings, impressing friends, and perhaps even composing your own music.
5. Lose 30 Pounds.
All right. Fine! 40 lbs. As I mentioned in a previous post, I’ve already returned to the gym. I’m already fitting into the clothes from a few years back before I gained weight and before the pandemic that kept us indoors. Also, as I get older, I find the need for keeping fit ever more important. Essential, even. For minimizing aches and pains, tightness of limbs, etc., it’s imperative to stretch and to do cardio regularly (Mark reminds himself as much as he reminds anyone else). If for no other reason than to remain limber and energetic, to maintain your metabolism and overall mental well-being, you should work your body to pursue the best version of your physical self.
6. Make a friend.
This might be the greatest challenge of my life. As an introspective introvert, I tend to keep to myself. The only time I interact with people is either when at work or when dealing with those in professional services – cashiers, rent managers, clerks, exotic dancers, arresting officers, inmates, bail bondsman, my parole officer, and my priest. That’s a joke. I’m a good boy. The last time I saw an exotic dancer was 15 years ago on a dare, and it broke my heart.
True. I enjoy making people laugh, but apart from the few times I’m required to step out of doors, I’m in my apartment, alone with my passion projects. That sounds naughty as I chance a glance at my wording, but I assure you if you could watch from a distance, you’d assume I’m either a college student cramming for my final exams or some industrialist working from home on an impossibly tight deadline.
I wouldn’t call myself a misanthrope. It’s just that my social needs are practically nonexistent. For one thing, I don’t get lonely. This tends to surprise people. We’re social creatures after all, and, as the cliché goes, no man is an island. But since life is short and we have only so many hours in a day, beyond my jobs which afford me the luxury of donning my Victorian top hat, puffing on my tobacco pipe, listening to Patrick O’Hearn’s “Milan to Alessio top down,” dressed in my corduroy three piece, and daydreaming about saving for a 2022 Triumph Bonneville Bobber …
I tend to engage in only those things that provide me with ample bliss to sustain my psyche. Anything else is essentially extraneous.
My kryptonite is a power outage. I’m regularly writing on either my desktop or my laptop, connected to the internet, reading on my Kindle app, occasionally watching YouTube or Netflix, listening to music, and using various language learning apps to study. All of which requires an active grid. Or at the very least phone battery life.
I suppose, worst case scenario, America becomes overrun by environmental crazies who dictate that heretofore we must ride in horse drawn buggies and attach solar panels to our roofs. I’d consequently be forced to make friends with strangers and pretend I required their company if only for the chance for some (fingers crossed) opportunity to practice a foreign language with a native speaker or (dare to hope) witty repartee in English. Otherwise, I’m content surrounded by my apps.
Granted, getting to know someone, understanding their perspective, appreciating their value and what they contribute to the relationship – these are noble ambitions and worthy of pursuit. Indubitably. It simply doesn’t come naturally for me.
In practical terms, I’m a hermit on the grid. Ironically, in print or post form, I’m a social butterfly. In person, I’m the guy in the back, observing, quipping, and searching for the perfect punch line. Whereas on this blog, I’m a gregarious maniac assuming various personas.
My heart goes out to those who need social interaction, who get lonesome, who require someone else be in the same room or apartment or house with them. I’m not knocking it; I just find it optional, not essential. I’d rather be alone to either dance in my unmentionables or read and write without interruption.
However, as I hope I’ve made clear, I recognize this isn’t normal. Thus, I’ve taken steps to address my disposition. In my recent effort to become more social, I founded The Single Malt Scotch Club. It’s an informal group instituted for the sole purpose of gathering scotch fans to sip and chat and listen to either jazz, symphony, ambient, or some other style or genre of music pending my approval. Currently I’m its only member. But I’m accepting applications. These are essentially oral interviews, conducted in public, and accompanied by either coffee or Jello shots.
In a year we’ll see how close I came to fulfilling these resolutions and just how much more my life is enriched because of it. Granted, these are ancillary things insofar as they're supportive of the body and mind. They've little to do with the soul or with everlasting joy. I agree. That’s what prayer and faith and fellowship is for and about. No doubt. Though I'd argue such cerebral pursuits do nourish the spirit. Nonetheless, these are worthy goals for improving one’s life in addition to being a great reminder of just how much better I am than most everyone else.
