Manic Frustration “If I do not write to empty my mind, I go mad.” ~Lord Byron

The doors of the Hilton opened to the street and out I went into the slight bustle of traffic with a tinge of Jack and Coke resting on my mind. Sun shone off the tan bricks as it set, warming everything around me. It was a beautiful day. It wasn't even Spring yet. It was the end of my first full week as a Scranton resident.

It's a new beginning.

Walking along the street, I felt peaceful. I didn't even know I was smiling until I stopped to look at the light filtering through the buildings between Adams and Washington before casting an array of warmth over the courthouse.

It's amazing what a change of scenery can do for the mind. How the longer days filled with sun and brilliance can lift you up. For too long, I've felt burdened. Burdened by stresses, some I brought on myself, and unhappiness with my situation. Now that I've taken the time to change it and get serious about turning new corners and opening new doors, I've never felt better.

My inspiration to write had been lacking. My inspiration to do anything had been lacking. Maybe the change of season has a lot to do with it, but I cannot deny how the other changes have turned things around for me. I feel energized. I feel lighter.

I feel...excited.

Though I'm still settling in and the search for a new job continues, I already feel at home.

It feels good to be home.

           In the world.
             
                             In myself.

With the new year closing in, many things have been running through my mind. The holiday season is a time of interaction, not only with family, friends and disgruntled shoppers, but with thoughts and memories of the year passed.

I look at the soles of my boots to see where I've been. Toward the mountains to see where I'm headed. I never look too far ahead anymore, though. One lesson I'm walking away with this year is that the future is never guaranteed. Right now, where my feet stand, is the only moment promised. And even that can be fleeting.

I've been remembering back further and further to past holidays. Joyful and miserable. Times spent in the company of family or good people. Times spent alone. Times spent grieving.

All of the memories have a way of  whittling down the excess of the season leaving me with a clearer view of the core. Instead of seeking shinning wrapping paper and disposable like I did as a child, I look for a smile. A laugh. Warmth.

During winter, moments seem to hang suspended like photographs. Maybe we all just slow to take it in. Remember it better. Etch the seconds into our mind to relive time and time again.

Here's to another year. Here's to experience. Here's to life.