Moment to Moment

[I was going to post a movie review yesterday, but something else--these thoughts--came up. Reviews can wait. Also, I'm still processing some of these thoughts, but I think the most important part is to get words outside of my brain so they can exist in the open air. Bear with me while I process online/in public. That's the boiled-down and historically-accurate essence of a blog.]

So. Today is October and I hate October. Not October itself, and not even what it stands for--I've come to appreciate Halloween, I enjoy scary movies, and I've added quite a few squash recipes to my repertoire. I guess what I hate is shorter days that feel longer, a slimy gray fog that seeps into every nook and cranny of my psyche, and (if I'm being truly honest) that ubiquitous pink.

I'm trying something new-ish this October (well, this week for starters...baby steps) in order to put off that seasonal cloud: doing one thing at a time. It's not revolutionary. It's not even an original idea--I found it here. I started playing this "game" on Monday--one where I do the one thing I'm doing as best as I can, then I do the next and the next. I'm not always winning at this game, but I'm playing. And I've found (so far) that when you do the things you do, you feel pretty good. Even when it was just sweeping the floor or brushing my hair--I swept the crap out of that floor and brushed my hair like I was Rapunzel herself.

Mindfulness won't necessarily vanquish seasonal depression, but it will hopefully keep me mentally aware enough that I can continue on with my life without letting the fog take over. As I reach my third year in this apartment, at my job, and with my boyfriend (a lot of things happened in the fall of 2011!), I'm realizing that my current living situation is the first one post-high school that's lasted longer than a year (or a semester). Since 2006, I haven't existed in one place without going through some sort of transition every few months.

I've come to embrace transitions as periods where I can shake things up a bit, do a little mental housecleaning, and feel like I'm improving myself--even if all I'm really doing is sweeping my "stuff" under the proverbial rug. After three years with no natural transition, I'm finding that it's gotten a little crowded under said rug. What I mean is: I'm not used to sitting with this stuff.

My first inclination was/is to pretend it doesn't exist. I'm awesome at denial. If that doesn't work, I'll force a transition by rearranging a room, signing up for a fitness challenge, joining a writing-centric blog community, or jumping from one experience high to the next. None of these things are bad in and of themselves, but when the excitement wears off, I enter robot mode until I can find something new. Not this year. I hope that by making my neuroses public, I'll hold myself more accountable for them.

So:
I'm not going to let stuff get in the way of my stuff.
I'm not going to pretend my stuff doesn't affect those around me.
I AM going to look at my stuff, live with my stuff, and deal with my stuff.

Thanks for reading as I figure out what my life is!