Why? I'm so glad you asked.
I had quality time today with two of my best ladies for starters. Is there really a better way to spend a lunch and a dinner? There's not.
In the middle of those two conversations about life, love, the pursuit of happiness a
nd hormones on the fritz, I finally received closure on the book that I've been working on for a year. See, I finished it and turned it in two weeks ago, but it wasn't going to be really a closed chapter of my life until I turned in the final proofs. Today, I was
able to take the time to perfect the final pages of this chapter of my life and I couldn't be happier with the results.
Closure is important. People need closure on things so they can move on. Speaking of moving on, I was told today that I have quite an uncanny ability to do just that. I can close chapters of my life and it's good and shut. I wasn't always that way. I was involved with directing a fine arts program for 6 or 7 years and letting that chapter of my life go was slow and painful. I think I learned from that situation that the gradual isn't really the way that I can function. I've got to function in a sort of blunt mentality. But I'll say that I haven't abandoned my gradual methodologies all together, I've just let them evolve to work in tandem with my blunt nature. For instance, when I was prepping to move out of my apartment, I took all the pictures off the wall gradually over a week's time. That way, by the time I had to actually move out, it was quick. Like ripping a band-aid off.
Another example? You got it. I was the leader of an organization on campus, one that I was very involved with for two years. But when it came time to close that chapter, SLAM. It was over and shut. Heartless? No. It was just time to move on. It was great when it was there, now it was time to move along.
As if the understanding of my own blunt mentality mixed with the closure of finishing what I started wasn't great enough, I got to do one of my favorite things on the entire Earth: Drive down the tollway in the middle of the night, singing with the windows down and the dance music blasting. I think it might be when I am at my happiest.
Now, as I lay in bed, I'm watching some television and writing. It's like I've done so many of my favorite things all in one day. Other people may be out there trying to change the world and plug oil leaks. Me? I'm singing on the tollway, happy as a boy could be. (Really, after being sick for so long and my throat being closed up for a week, being able to sing again brought the joy back into my life.) I've got the joy. And it feels great.