Coming Around Again

Yeah, just like Carly Simon.

As you may have noticed I'm very cyclic with my writing. This is actually true of just about anything I do. I get so used to routines and nestle comfortably deep inside the security of consistency that it's often difficult to emerge. Still, my new routine continues to elude me. Here lately it seems every time I'm about to get back on track some major change in my life shuffles it all around again.

The short version of the past 8 months of my life involves a change of jobs, a move out of state and the prospect of new possibilities lurking in forgotten places.

I suppose I should be thankful. I mean if you're "done", that is, if you've come to a point where you've done everything you set out to do in this life what remains worth living for? As long as I keep challenging myself to be more than what I have become I don't intend on being "done" any time soon. I'll take a moment to reflect on the lyrics from "Boston" by Augustana:

"She said I think I'll go to Boston...
I think I'll start a new life,
I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name,"

Is it possible to start a new life when you inevitably end up exactly where you started? I suppose that's the nature of being cyclic when even veering onto a drastic tangent leads you back to the smooth curves of your own circle of knowledge. In most cases the devil you know is better than the one you don't...but the devil always looks so damn good.

Boxes still wait patiently to be unpacked. Loaded with uncertain truths blurred by shades of a past eager to bask in the sunlight. Will I put everything back the way it used to be? Will I put anything back the way it used to be? If I sell my identity along with all the scraps and trinkets inside these sealed up cardboard boxes does that truly wipe my slate clean? If it does, will I be strong enough to change, or instead slip back inside the shell of a convenient excuse?

Habit is easy...revolution is exquisite.