It's odd to me how FEST marks the beginning of my internal calendar. I was telling CHNACAT about this earlier - that the whole January thing is just a formality. It's Fest which marks the beginning and ending of another year. For me, Fest offers the chance to try again - to start over after a renewal of sorts, a short period of getting to know myself again, to not only forgive but accept the imperfections, recognize the jumbled priorities and reevaluate.

Every year, I promise myself that I'll find a way to not fear life - well, I'm not sure I ever really fear anything but certainly life initimidates me at times - so, I promise to meet it head on accompanied by the exuberance with which I always leave Fest. Every year, I swear I�ll be less critical of myself and maintain the order of priorities that I find important rather than allowing societal standards to dictate those for me.

During the first week after, I remain determined in my quest to be more real, in a sense. The magic of Fest for me is how easily I accept myself there - b/c for me to achieve self acceptance really does require some form of cosmic intervention - so I have to believe that there is some mystical force at work there, possibly created merely by the strength of several thousand women, banding together. And when I leave there, I want to retain that sense of self - but admittedly, and as is obvious from my last post - it oftentimes proves illusory, sometimes slipping through my fingers in less than a week.

However, the experience of Fest never really leaves me and it's easier each year to consciously draw on the strengths gained and the lessons learned from there. And one of those lessons is for me to recognize that the fact that I'm not consistent in my endeavor to fulfill my new year's resolutions, so to speak, does not mean that I lost the whole war, just a battle here and there.

<< & >>