The Importance of Letting a Chapter End

The Importance of Letting a Chapter End:
And why it's so important to keep at least one hand on the wheel.

Here we are again. It's a new year, a time for half-ass resolutions and full measures left squandered in the wake of shame, hangovers, and refuse of promises not intending to be kept. Here we are again, when the skies go grey and stay that way, when the world opens up to something cold and drives good, well meaning, people to a fever pitch of inertia. Here we are again, listening to ourselves tell lies about what we intend to do in the upcoming year, about the changes we're going to make, about the road we're all on, and how it's this year we're finally going to have good things come our way.

 

Well, I hate to break it to you dear Reader, but that's just not the way it works. 

New years aren't new chapters, at least not inherently. Surely they can be, in the same way the blue-thirty dawns can be chalked full of promise and potential, but that's not something that just happens. Chapters end and changes come in exactly the same way: We make choices to pen no more words in the direction things are going. The tone is finished, this piece of what we've been working on has found reason to take a turn to what's next in the story, and now it's time to move on to the ever present 'What's Next'. The catch is, in this moment of realization where the literal (and less so) sun rises over the day of your life, you've got to be the one to put down the period, turn the page, and put the pen back to work.

It's here, in this moment, I encourage a liberal use of punctuation. Apply a question mark to the word 'Next'. Put a period at the end of things that are finished. Let yourself flip the page, let yourself make the changes — this is an absolutely essential piece of "The Good Life" — but be realistic about what those things are. Don't tell yourself a falsehood about your motivations, I don't care if it's only that you're actually going to the gym or if you're going to be kinder to yourself; pick your battles, plot your path, and climb that goddamned mountain. I promise you, the views from the top are worth it — but, in whatever you do, you've got to be honest with yourself or you're just spinning your wheels to go nowhere.

It's okay to find yourself in places you'd rather not be. We've all been there, stumbling down dark alleys, drunk on sinister thoughts that push the jeering villains of our mind firmly into the forefront of our eyes. We've all seen the circling vultures and heard snarling dogs of reality, lurking just out of sight and waiting to pounce on us the minute we set out on the paths unknown. It's what makes well worn, well lit, streets so comforting in foreign cities. It's what makes your ears bend backwards to the footfalls of strangers coming up behind you. It's a survival instinct in some ways — but is survival enough to be called living? Is it enough to simply stick to the paths we know, especially if they're not taking us to the places we want to go?

I caution against this, against letting your back stay turned toward the things that frighten you. I caution against sticking only to what you know, especially when all it's doing is underlining the things in your life you really don't want. I caution against self perpetuation of the undesirable. I caution against only going forward down the paths you know, the roads you can navigate by feel, and I advocate strongly against taking things off road when you find yourself veering through the S-Curves of your own bullshit. That's about as sensible as blaming the whole world for the fact that the same things keep happening to you, that the new year is the same as the old, and thinking that the Universe "just isn't fair."

Once again, my dear Reader, that's just not the way it works.

Life is fair.The Universe is fair. Terrible things happen by happenstance the same as they do by the choice of action — and it's paramount to remember that not choosing is a choice and that, as was Said by Dr. Thompson: "A man who procrastinates in his own choosing will inevitably have his choice made for him by circumstance."

Life will go on with or without you. Time will pass, so will people and moments if you let them, and so too will you if you're not carefully keeping an eye on yourself. It's why the importance of self-honesty is so important. It's why keeping your eyes on the road is an essential piece of life advice. It's what you've got to do if you're really going to turn any pages in the story of your life at all. It's why it does you no good to promise yourself that you're going to do things you don't do. It's why you can't expect to get anywhere if all you do is blame life for what happens to you. It's why you've got to be honest with your words, why you should only shake hands if you intend to honor the deal, and why you shouldn't pay so much attention to the way clocks tick — leave that in the background and let it be a happy surprise when you find fifteen hours have passed in a state of blissful merriment.

Life, it's been said, is a highway and you really, really, really, need to keep one hand on the wheel — because not everyone else will. Some people are content, or so they say, to let themselves coast through existence and life like it's just something that happens to them. These are the Mad Max parallels, crazy fast and blinding frenzies of gasoline and flaming engines all too familiar to people who live in Orlando or Detroit. It's the lunatics who populate these roads, the ones who don't understand how the obstacles just jump right out in front of them and leave them a flaming wreck of tears, that deserve the widest berth. This kind of weird is for the ones who can't take it to a professional level and never even had a potential career as a bootlegger in the days of history.

Driving like this just makes you a statistic and, in life, there's little more depressing than just being a number for a bean counter somewhere behind and insurance desk. They don't think about your story, they don't care, and they don't have to anyway. All that, my friends, is up to you.

You're the one who has to let a chapter end, who has to make and allow for change. You're the architect of your own life. You choose where there are walls, windows, and doors. You're the cartographer of your journey. You choose the path, you plot and blaze the trail, and it's up to you to me mindful of the elevation — or lack thereof — you find yourself at. You're the driving force of your own Universe. You're your own sun, wind, and rain. You're your warm days as well as your dark ones and you deserve to be more than the sum total of your own indecision.

So be honest with what you see out there on the road. Pay attention the things you hear. Be mindful of the map you draw and the path your blazing. Pay attention the hardships, see the forest and not just the trees. Enjoy the laughing comfort of a loved one resting on the pillow beside you. Embrace the hard words delivered on the heels of festive holidays. Be more than your mistakes. Be more than your success. Live a life that is full of pride and let others be there to come along if they want — and don't be afraid to leave them behind if they don't. You don't owe anyone, except yourself, anything but you've got to remember that you'll be seen for your offering.

If all that you offer is empty, hollow, words, then how can you expect to find anything more than an empty, hollow, life? If you lie to yourself, if you lie about the momentum you've not got, if you tell yourself the comforts that it just isn't your fault all the time, where do you really expect to go? You're taking your hands off the wheel, you're letting the chapters wind on like cut-rate, dime store, pulp novels destined to die in obscurity. Worse still, the paths will be unknown to you and the best you'll ever manage to be in your own story is a footnote to your own existence — and of all the tragedies in life one can endure, the worst is to be a bystander in all their own days.

So, once again, I encourage you to pay attention. Pay attention to the road and the ride, be mindful of the direction you're letting the whole thing go in, even if it's by not choosing a direction. Be mindful of your passengers and what the people doing in the backseat say about you to the passerby who has nothing to go on by how things look from the outside. Be mindful of the heartfelt tears that you're offered and the pleas for change that come with them. Don't neglect these moments — and certainly not if all you're going to do is play Orphan Oliver and keep asking for more. Be mindful of your feelings and be honest with them, even if you've got to substitute words of thanks that are sometimes forced to be stand-ins until you've got a chance to say the bigger things straight to someone's eye. 

Be mindful of driver-less cars and the frothing dogs behind the wheel of automobiles that are more Bondo and duct tape than steel. Be mindful of the pages you're turning and the direction you're taking your story. Be mindful of lingering too long in Chapters that aren't going anywhere but dragging out the parts of the story. Be mindful of your own bullshit and never opt to eat a whole sandwich's worth of it. Be mindful of who you and how you present that person. Be mindful of where you put the doors in your walls and who you open them for. Be mindful of what you want out of life and what you're doing to get yourself there. Simply put: Be aware and don't be a dick — and apply both of these things in broad strokes when it comes to how you treat yourself.

Remember that, sometimes, to get where you want to be you've got to be willing to let go of things. Own your life instead of your things. Share it with the people who matter most to you and count yourself among the guests at that table. Keep watch on storm clouds in the eyes and, if the rain falls, don't offer a lace umbrella. Don't bullshit with self inflicted platitudes. Don't beg for things you're not willing to appreciate, and let chapters close when the words are done. Slow down and help those who've gotten into an accident, but give no quarter to those who won't account for their own lack of attention. Appreciate the courage it takes to stick out your thumb and ask for a ride. Compliment the roar of a stranger's engine and look into the heart of their words. Find parallel penmanship and blaze wild words weirdly on into the night.

Remember to keep at least one hand on the wheel and the pen. Remember to turn the page. Remember to ring the bell and trim the bonsai when it's time to be done. Remember you don't have to stay somewhere you don't want to be, but you've got to be responsible for the momentum that'll carry you away. Don't get swept away in the waves of the world, steer your ship toward shores you want to call home. Be mindful of who you wound with your accidents and how you hurt yourself by letting choices stand because you're neck deep in your own inertia. Be mindful of how many pages you're filling with words you wouldn't choose and how often you're being taken down roads you'd rather not go down. Be mindful of yourself, from action to sedation, truth to lies, loves, losses, limbs you allow to choke out your trunk.

Remember, you can always close a book and start writing a new one. Remember, you can get off and onto a different road. Remember you can change passengers at any time. Remember to be more than a bystander, that there's more to life than winning the rat-race, and that rodents have few principles beyond survival. Remember the love and loyalty paid to you and pay yourself back to it. Remember who inspires you and be honest with that, the same as you are with what you do with that motivation. Be mindful of who you blame if you're not willing to blame yourself. 

Remember, this life is your and you've got to act according to yourself. You've got to steer the wheel toward places you want to be. You've got to close covers sometimes. You've got to open doors. You've got to look through windows. You, and only you, can make anything happen. Don't expect handouts, but give appreciate when kept from starving in the dark. Remember that people, especially yourself, should not be a placeholder in your existence. Remember to be more than a footnote or a scrawl in the margin. 

Remember to appreciate the view from the top and that, to get there, sometimes you've got to leave things behind — and that it's always better to leave your own bullshit at that bottom of that same goddamn mountain.

Good luck to you, my Readers. May this year be all you want it to be — and may you all gain the wisdom enough to figure out what that is so you can get there.