Lesson One.

"I'm so irritated with myself.  I hurt someone's feelings."  "Is it fixable?"  *pause*  "No."

Thirty-Three is over.  It was my jesus year – meant to be a year of transformation, of risk-taking, of movement, of me changing the world.  Instead it was a year of near zero clarity, of chaos, of trying a ton of wildly unrelated except to me ideas, of these ideas mostly not working, and of making pretty large, less-than-well thought out choices.  Other than a wicked awesome Best Cup Match ever, a new job that I like, and a couple moments just before things didn’t work out when I was still full of delusional optimism … it was a big heapity heap of angst and frustration. 

But, because I'm insane, I didn’t dwell on any of the good things (and yes there was more than just Cup Match although seriously... it was incredible).  I didn't take a moment to be happy for what had worked. Didn't even honour the age old, 'What did I learn?'

Instead, I just cried, scrapped 33 and began planning for 34, daydreaming about how it would be so different… way more full of inspiration, and love.  More being kinder to myself and to others, and less of saying Yes too much, and feeling ragged and sad.  But most importantly *cue the music* me changing the world, you know ACTUALLY this time. Me and 34 were going to walk into the sunset, holding hands, laughing at how we overcame it all.  

All I had to do was just make it around the final bend of 33.   

Alas, I stumbled at the finish line, and as I was reaching for some celebratory birthday champagne and lamb, 33 grabbed me, held up a mirror and said, 'it's not me, it's you...'.  Thirty-Three forced me to think about how my ‘good intentions’ actually won't amount to much. That, without meaning to, I can be dismissive. That I’m self-centred.  *yikes* 

Okay, I knew I was self-centred.  

Yet over the years I've thought slash expected aka hoped, and it's mostly been the case, that folks have instead focused on my aforementioned good intentions.  Most have celebrated my energy and ideas and passion.  They've excused some of my poor behaviour because perhaps they recognised it as frustration at slow change or seen that my head is so full of ideas it overwhelms me and clouds my judgement.  Sometimes they've chalked it up to the impetuosity of youth.

But now ... I’m 34.  And in week one of being so, I've seen that these excuses are not valid. That I can be irresponsible and naive. And shitty. And selfish.  And, as per Murakami *deep sigh*, had I actually been cruel? Ouch....*ET Voice* 

Ugh this sucks.  So, how'm I gonna dig myself out of this? I screwed up, had no way out, and the masochist in me wants to just sit and think about it over and over.  And when I say 'wants to' I mean I'm currently doing that, and alternating between sending a fruit basket, writing another apology (is handwritten better?  or an email? or maybe a card!), or just saying 'screw this I didn't mean it I'm a good person!', then quickly telling myself, 'no you're not...' aannndd back to the fruit.  *endless loop*

Well... I've decided that instead, and because this person said as they stared with deep disappointment in their eyes, 'there's a lesson to be learned here' (which was a touch patronising and "young lady"-ish, especially when they wagged their finger but I'll take it because ultimately they're right...), that's just what I'll do.  Not gonna excuse anything, not gonna think about it endlessly or use it as reason to sit paralysed. I'm going to stop, breathe, think and learn.  

And, so whether 34 is all I wish it to be, or *ohgodno* if 34 is about the same as 33... either way, just let me learn something this time around.