An Albatross No More

Being stuck in my apartment with little else to do but clean and watch ineffectual daytime/weekend television, I was organizing my CD collection that, as of this writing, numbers about 4,000 and counting. I came across the eponymous Genesis album, which has as its cover a selection of "Perfection" pieces. The album, like many late-model Genesis offerings, was more a Phil Collins vehicle over his many failed relationships and divorces than a collection of quality offerings. Still, "Home By The Sea" and "Second Home By The Sea" and even "Silver Rainbow" are downright solid tracks. And "Mama" is a great tune, even if it recalls for me, in a weird way, some very freaky, disturbed people. "You taunt, you tease, me Mama, but I just can't keep away." Freaky.

In the process of ripping the CD while continuing to clean, I processed some of the album's lyrics, specifically those from the tune "That's All." "Tell me it's black when I know that it's white" took on different significance to me this time around, and I sort of knowingly smiled, realizing I was happy once again. It occurred to me that some people will always be in a cocoon of unhappiness, misery and dissatisfaction in life: the most familiar of the analogies is the "glass is half empty" mentality. A more real-world example, for me, is a recent Valentine's Day episode where I produced lavender roses for my then-girlfriend and she spent the better part of two hours in an all-encompassing funk because they weren't red. She attempted to salvage the holiday, and, in a microcosmic attempt to salvage the relationship, by recycling the holiday. In this case it didn't quite work, and, thankfully, I realized it never really does.

Overall, the past couple years has produced some very vivid, unfortunate memories of holidays, weekends and evenings that I have happily buried. They're still somewhere there in the subconscious, but they are -- and will always be -- reminders that mistakes are mistakes that can be rectified, discarded and stuffed into a closet.

So as New Year's Eve approaches, I once again am excited and looking forward to actually celebrating rather than surviving it as I had the past couple years. Being in a perpetually unhappy place, I discovered, is like wearing a yoke of 150 pounds of concrete on your back, but instead of it merely weighing you down physically, it does so emotionally. And I didn't quite realize this until August, when I finally shed the yoke, both literally and figuratively, for good. After a lot of pain, strife and difficulty, I was able to stow those Perfection pieces once and for all and face the future -- whether it's this morning, this weekend or New Year's Eve -- with optimism, happiness and a smile. Let someone else deal with the albatross -- I'll perpetually keep a half-full glass of water and a bouquet of freshly-bloomed lavender roses to remind me, without uncertainty, that I will never again let myself get shoe-horned, nagged, guilted, scolded, or brought into an unhappy, miserable world of disenchantment and disappointment. I'm back to perpetually smiling, and it feels good. 2005 is coming, and once I walk through that door, I'll leave behind the albatross, close the door, and never look back.