Originally written on December 18, 2020
What do any of us really accomplish? It’s that time of year when lists and photos and little cute Instagram posts boldly announce what has been accomplished. End of year wrapping up the past, exciting ourselves for the future. What does any of it actually mean? To accomplish something is so personal. What might be a huge accomplishment for one person is just a regular Tuesday for someone else.
Last year I wrote a list of accomplishments in my journal. The list included things like; Went to therapy, finally got paid for an acting gig, took a workshop etc. I was excited for what I could possibly accomplish in 2020! Then this past year happened. This year that has torn so much from us. Rejected our version of who we are and what we thought we knew. This year that said “stay home, wash your hands, wear a mask, stay 6ft apart”. This year that made a simple task seem impossible. This year that showed empathy, humanity, kindness and hope all while showing hatred, racism, ableism and selfishness.
How do you accomplish then? I don’t think I do. I think I only exist. Moment to moment as best as I can. Remembering that I am a human. Imperfect. There has been so much to take on this year. So much to learn, unlearn, relearn. All while trying not to infect ourselves or others. Infect with COVID, with misinformation, hatred or fear.
Some days accomplishment isn’t a word I even think about. Some days I ache and cry as my brain and body battle each other. As the dark thoughts slip in and I can’t shake them out. I wish for the chance to step into the world that isn’t so fucked up. Where the uniformed aren’t the loudest and the government actually cares about the people not the amount of money they’re giving to the police.
Today I accomplished opening my eyes. I slipped into today and stayed here. For now that is enough.
