The Year In Review, a little late

2008 was the year of compassion for me. Never before have I tried harder or more passionately to keep the things I had been given, only to lose them because sometimes we are just not enough. 2008 taught me some, in a visceral sense, compassion.

Last year I was given the man I wanted, the future I wanted and the job prospects I wanted. None of this was an orchestra-swelling sort of climatic moment but rather I found myself, for the first time, on a trajectory that I really, truly enjoyed. I was able to let go of my usual petty complaints and it felt like life had shifted into a higher gear, one in which I could sway my small piece of the world in ways I felt were useful and then return home to a man with whom I could discuss, debate and process the day in a way that felt natural. It wasn’t the Hollywood sort of thing without fighting and all soft lighting but it was real in the ways that I valued. I had everything I wanted.

Unfortunately though, no matter how much I loved, hard I worked or earnestly I fought, the entirety of my being was not enough to keep what I needed. And, I feel that is a rather important lesson to learn.

I always knew, intellectually, that sometimes we’re just not enough to keep the things we love but I had never known it on such a completely decimating, primal level. I am infinitely, eternally grateful that I didn’t have children to sort out, no family passed away and that the only person I had to get through this rough patch was myself.

It has, however, left me on the other side a rather changed woman. People ask me “What are your plans now” and I’ve truly got none. I’m going to try law school because that’s always been my final back up plan but I honestly no longer care. When asked where I want to live, I don’t care. I know I can’t stay here much longer but I don’t care where I go. And, I’ve always had the caveat that I might consider staying put should I meet the right man and his life isn’t flexible but last night, whilst talking with a friend I realized that I no longer think I’m capable of that, realistically speaking. I no longer want romantic love or the hope of it. I no longer want to think about my future, the great family I could have or the work I could do. And I’m not particularly sad about all of that, which is the weirdest part.

But it has made me much more compassionate towards those who have lost the things they really wanted. I no longer even consider the notion that they didn’t work hard enough for it. What’s gone is gone and though we’ve all done the best we can to prevent loss, sometimes we’re just not enough and there’s nothing to be done about it.