And just like that, January’s nearly gone.
(For the sake of tense simplicity, I will pretend it’s completely gone.)
It was a good month despite the fact that I spent a quarter of it sick.
The fact that I can say that it was a good month—in spite of having spent a quarter of it sick—is precisely why it was a good month.
So far, what I’ve discovered this 2015 (thanks to January) is that it is possible—through a combination of hard work, unrelenting diligence, selective remembering, and even more selective forgetting—to fashion a sturdy if somewhat unremarkable happiness.
The naturally bucolic will not appreciate the magnitude of this epiphany. The naturally melancholic will grapple with the barest hint of its possibility.
(I belong to the tribe of the naturally melancholic; grappling occurs to me like breathing.)
What I look forward to this February: infiltrating the tribe of the naturally bucolic.
Let’s see if the unremarkable can become remarkable.