i only think when christiana does.

Every year, it seems I have one or two revelations that throw my entire universe into turmoil, give me a "Eureka!" moment, and inspire all of my friends to say "Really? You haven't figured that out yet?"

2008's major discovery involved a long, convoluted, and mostly drunken self-discovery process that ended in my realization that what matters to me most is doing things that matter to other people. If a Flynn does a remarkable thing in the forest and no one is listening, it seems, that thing will not make a sound.

It seems contradictory in nature, but one of the (actually many) things I learned in 2009 was that despite this pressing need to make myself known to the people of the world, I have my feet quite staunchly planted in a fear of any sort of fame. I discovered this the hard way one day while opening band fan mail at work and remembering just how insane a goodly portion of the population is. Then I thought about everyone I know who's achieved any kind of fame, and about how they all suffer from this really weird sort of self-awareness that usually ends up translating into a kind of congratulatory deprication.

Basically, it seems like a sort of terrible thing.

At some point, I figured out where to turn the focus to make these two forces complementary, and without even realizing it I became a much happier person. I don't need to write the great American novel to matter, I need to make dinner for my closest friends. I don't need to ever make a record; I need to make sure good conversation is had over good scotch on a fairly regular basis. I need to be thankful for my cookie-baking skills, and never to worry about whether my name appears in print, anywhere.

I've never felt less pressure than this past year. Still, I worry that I've also never gotten less done.