Dear Reader, Day 1: A Muse About August
Well, here we are. Today marks the first day of my yearlong resolution to get myself out of a writing slump and to find something worth writing about. Is this whole crazy idea very loosely inspired by Julie and Julia, which I may have been watching late last night? Possibly. Am I afraid that I might have taken on more than I can handle? Oh, absolutely. But writing is my passion, and my career, so if I can commit myself to one full year — 365 stories, memories and narratives — then I am convinced that I can conquer almost anything and everything else in my life outside of this.
Today is August 6, which means that I will be turning another year older at the end of this month. August was always such an interesting time for me growing up, and I’ve found that nothing has changed. My memories of August are always bittersweet. The significance that the month holds, the end of summer, the beginning of another year of life for myself, usually heading back to school or back to the city after a summer spent at home with family or out traveling — all are bittersweet moments of change. In keeping with this theme, I figured that there was no better time to start up this project than August.
In two weeks now I’ll head back to the city, Pittsburgh, in this case. I’m moving to a new space, starting a new life in the city, especially after moving there in the midst of a global pandemic (which in hindsight was nothing compared to moving back to the US from Mexico in the height of the pandemic). To say I’m ready would probably be a lie, because I’m never really ready for anything. I have yet to pack my bags and boxes of home goods, or my suitcases with all the winter sweaters that I’m not sure I’m looking forward to wearing, but I’m excited to be starting over, especially after the year and half that we just had.
Moving back to the city, entering a new year of life, moving into a new space, all of it seems somewhat scary, especially considering that the older I get the more I dislike celebrating my birthday. I might be a grump for that but I think it’s just that for some reason birthdays have always made me extremely emotional and I cannot stop myself from tearing up a little bit every time. I also find that no matter how young or old you are, age is simply just a number, and it shouldn’t be a defining factor in who I am, how I present myself, or what I can accomplish. At this point in my life, I think I can confidently say that I’ve had enough life experience to last me about three lifetimes, if not more. But I will also say that this year I’m not dreading celebrating my birthday so much as I have in years past. It is simply another year of life on this planet; another tally mark up on the wall if you will.
August, what a time of change she is. Moving, growing, changing, learning, feeling. These are all words that I associate with the month of August. Already I can feel the shift that always happens as I start to gravitate towards fall, this personal new year, and all the change that’s going to come with it. I’m hoping that, as I continue in both this writing journey and my own personal journey, I’ll only become more comfortable with change and the idea that constantly, things are moving along with or without me so at some point I guess I’d better jump in. For now though, I think I’ll continue to procrastinate on packing and muse about what I’ll write next.
Signing off for today, so thank you, dear reader.
