I've Realized I'm a Happy Person at Heart

That's not something I would have been able to say about myself for most of my life. I spent years of my life thinking about what was wrong with the world, judging people who didn't live the way I thought they should and obsessing over the ways I didn't think my own life measured up to the status quo. But I've noticed things have been different for me lately.

It's not that my life changed. I still have the vast majority of the problems I had before and could well be stuck with some of them for the foreseeable future. I just have a better attitude than I used to. Some of that seemed to come with age, but the rest really was about a simple perspective change. It's a change I'm grateful for, as life is just better this way. After all, I only get one of those... a life. I don't really want to waste mine griping, complaining, and judging. 

Life's never going to be fucking perfect.

I used to think that I couldn't be happy until I got specific details of my life in line. When I was an awkward teenager, I thought being prettier would do it. Later on, I thought meeting someone would be the answer. Or finding a way to run a business out of my home so I wouldn't have to spend so much of my time at an office or behind a cash register somewhere. Then I met someone, got married, and still wasn't happy with my love life, so I got a divorce and started daydreaming about the day I'd meet someone better. Once I had a business, I wanted a better one doing more exciting work. 

There's always going to be something else -- some other part of your life that downright sucks or something monumental you finally achieve only to realize your life still isn't the way you want it. And the vast majority of those solutions you thought were going to solve all your problems come with brand new issues of their own. If you wait to allow yourself any measure of happiness or contentment until everything's perfect, you're going to be waiting until you drop dead.

Reflections on Life After Watching Disney-Pixar's Soul

I finally got to see the new Disney-Pixar movie the other night -- Soul. Being the giant, overgrown kid-at-heart I am, I get very excited about new Disney films as a rule, but I was extra eager to see this one. Not only does it have a Black lead and contain many references to Black culture -- something I'm happy to be seeing in more media -- but jazz music is an integral part of the film's theme, as well. I've come to love jazz, especially as I get older and increasingly excited about different kinds of music.

I liked the film very much in general. Still, I especially enjoyed its primary message about the concept of life purpose and how it addressed many common questions people have on the subject. 

• What does it mean to have a life purpose?
• Is your purpose about your profession of choice or something else entirely?
• What does it really feel like to finally realize your most significant, dearest goals in life?
• Where do little pleasures and daily experiences fit into the picture?
• Is it possible not to have a purpose, and what happens if that's the case for you?

At nearly 45, I've managed to answer many of those questions for myself, but it took me a while. Joe was my favorite character, so I'd love to say I was just like him -- maybe a little misguided, but always sure of what I wanted to do with my life. I'm really the spitting image of Soul 22, though. 

Like 22, I believed that I didn't have a life purpose for an extremely long time, especially when I was younger. While everyone else my age seemed to know exactly what they wanted to do with their lives, nothing seemed to resonate with me at all. I did know I enjoyed being creative -- drawing, writing, playing piano, and the like -- but there was no way to turn those things into stable livings that actually appealed to me back then. I didn't want to put on a suit and design logos for some soulless corporate entity or settle for teaching schoolchildren about the things I wanted to be doing myself. I especially disliked the idea of having to commute to an office every day.

"Christmas Means Family" Is a Full-of-Shit Statement

Clark Griswold is still my spirit animal.

Now that November's over and December is officially here, we're officially in the process of shifting gears at my house. That means the Christmas lights are lit on a nightly basis, and we've officially started our yearly watchings of some of our favorite holiday films. Last night's pick was one of my personal favorites -- National Lampoons Christmas Vacation. 

The older I get, the more I think I relate to Clark (Chevy Chase) on a level I never did when I first fell in love with this film. I keep holidays very low-key these days for all sorts of reasons, but I'm usually the person in my household that does most of the planning for holiday celebrations. I put together the menus and do all the cooking. Back when my living situation allowed for it more, I used to get pretty into decorating my apartment and trying to make it feel like a magical place to be for the holidays. Sometimes I'd go overboard or fail to plan ahead well enough and wind up shooting myself straight in the foot, just like Clark, but it's probably not too hard to understand why.

Growing up, I was a very idealistic child, and my home life failed to measure up in many ways. My parents stopped loving each other at some point when I was a little kid but made the "honorable" decision to "stay together for the kids" anyway. I don't know who they thought they were fooling, though, because it was pretty apparent that neither of them was about that family life. My dad openly dated other women and was home as little as possible, even around the holidays. My mom more or less just gave up on domestic life -- hated to cook, hated doing the mom thing, and hated keeping house. Each of my parents bad-mouthed the other to my brother and me non-stop, so that was fun.