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Has Anyone Seen My Can Of Bliss?

I read over my last blog post from 01/30/2022 with sardonic amusement at my heaping pile of audacity. I shouldn't have laughed. No. Not a single giggle should have escaped my throat and slipped past my lips that day. The universe heard it and took offense. Why wouldn't it? I was scoffing at it.

If the stretch of time between my last post and this one tells you anything, it should say that 2022 punched us in the same kissers that failed to stifle the laughter. Everything was a damn struggle, everything broke, everything skyrocketed in price and everything was irksome for some reason or another. We'd already be down and just get kicked again and again.

I shouldn't complain. I suppose I am not. I think I am more in awe of how ridiculously difficult it was as I review those 365 days of bullshit.

The worst part? We weren't alone. Almost every person I know went through hell too. Health problems, money problems, work shit, home shit, family drama, friend drama, life situations, and death situations. The more people I spoke to towards the end of the year, the more I learned just how rough everybody had it, just as hard as we did, though sometimes harder.

I am not saying that we were all living in a post-apocalyptic hellscape. All of us had little successes everywhere, sometimes bigger ones too. It's just that the fuckery well outweighed the non-fuckery, and it made it very difficult to keep the joyous high going.

What do you suppose was the catalyst for this utter malarky? Should I be woo-woo about it and say that the cosmic alliances were off-kilter? Should I look at the society that we created and say we did it to ourselves? Should I blame thy neighbor or thine gods?

No. I don't think any of those options are applicable.

What I am trying to say is that "life" happened.

It really happened.

For everyone.

Life isn't always pleasant,

or easy,

or beautiful,

or abundant,

or even kind.

I refuse to wallow in this any further. I also refuse to say that 2023 will be my year, that I will be the best me I can be, and that great things will happen because great can be just as negative as it can be positive.

I will say that I learned something from all of this. Or at least, I remembered something.

I forgot my gratitude. I lost my lucky-girl energy. I fumbled my law of attraction. Hell, I didn't just fumble it, I pretty much chucked it over a soaring palisade into a dirty river.

I think, as a collective, we all may have done this. I can't speak for everyone else though. This is just me being the armchair theorist that I always am.

I was speaking with my sweet friend, Betsey, just before the new year. We talked about our resolutions and I told her that I was keeping mine simple this year. My goals are to be more mindful for a better sense of peace and to alter my reaction to what life hands me.

I had given these two concepts a lot of headspace over the last few weeks. I finally saw what I had been doing. I was letting life control me in every aspect, and I was doing a very poor job of handling it.

So, to start off my new year, I created a daily gratitude journal where I can write very specific reasons why I am grateful for each day. No cheating. No filling it with pandering hogwash or generic platitudes. I have to sit and think about the things that touch my heart each day and write about them. This will help keep me focused on what really matters in my life. At least, I think it will. *see armchair theorist snark above*

The reaction part of my resolution will be more difficult. I am a passionate woman with staunch views and a fairly unyielding personality. In short, I am kind of an asshole, even to myself.

This is where mindfulness should come into play. I am going to fail, fail, and fail again but I have to keep trying. Practice makes perfect, right?

But I am not trying to be perfect. I am just looking for my lost bliss. Has anyone seen it?

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