Twenty Ten: the year everything (un)happened
This January to December was the year to remember. Every year is special because it just happened. This year was special because during it much happened and even more un-happened.
This January to December was the year to remember. Every year is special because it just happened. This year was special because during it much happened and even more un-happenedIn January I believed the truth would set you free… even make the blind see. By February I realised that the blind were unwittingly the bespectacled of a darkish tint. By March I had come to see that it was I who was blind to the nature of their lack of sight… They were afraid of the sun and all the light that may come with it. By April I had realised much more than I care to share and I couldn’t write anymore. By May I was clear that the meetings of minds were intersections as opposed to the making of acute angles and my soul needed to pray again. By June I realised that well done to some was medium to some and rare to others. By July I saw that tweets were like sweets than feasts; an attempt to reboot one’s palette as opposed to broaden it. By August I saw quote-ers quietly unquote. By September I saw how high the bar of morality really was to some, or most. By October I came through for my hashtag partner and myself. By November I went public with how much I liked my town. By December I was ready to write again.
Twenty Ten, saw much gain and loss; the former mostly spiritual and intellectual and latter mostly material. It was a year of revelations of one’s soul and society’s capacity and role.
Twenty Ten, showed me my true colors, your true colors and their true colors. It was the year of the raw. The year where everyone came out naked and made a huge bonfire out of all their closets. For a moment, we were all in it together. That moment has passed. In our bid to survive, we slay the cattle we could find, eat their flesh, wear their skin and leave the weak, young and old behind. Twenty Ten was hard for all… but it was hardest for the morally inclined.
What I learned/reaffirmed in Twenty Ten:
- Just because it feels good doesn’t make it right
- Just because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it’s not going to
- We’re all mortal… all fallible… and most importantly vulnerable to loss
- If you have to lose your soul in the process of saving yourself, I don’t want to know what’s left.
If twenty ten made you numb, I will run as far as I can from where you came from. I always preferred you angry
In short, Twenty Ten was the ultimate year to #knowthyself.
Twenty Eleven will be the year of the pendulum and sails with little push and air. Twenty Eleven will be the year of grey waits and hopeful stairs; a year where hesitant ambition of Twenty Ten will attempt to find a home but only to rent a room. A year where I write again, I have a job again, and where I take the dues of others as my own. I enter it with confident humility, measured audacity and material spirituality.