The physicist John Archibald Wheeler once opined, "Time is what prevents everything from happening at once." In the past, I've found that sentiment mildly profound, but much more so recently, as I reach the end of another year of my life. At no other time in my existence have I so acutely felt the passage of time as in the past 12 months.
I'll be straight-up with you about the relative scarcity of my troubles: No one close to me died. I didn't lose my job. I didn't lose any money off my retirement plan (probably because I don't have one). I'm not behind on mortgage/car payments. I am not suffering from a severe illness. I still have a roof over my head, and three meals a day to give thanks for. I understand that relative to the rest of the world, (hell, even relative to a lot of people I know), I have much to be grateful for.
Nonetheless, during the past year, I have experienced tremendous personal and professional loss to an extent that I could never have predicted a year ago, and I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that this has been the most difficult year of my entire life. I've spent many-a-day cursing myself over my colossal mistakes, wondering how I could have screwed things up so badly, squandered so much goodwill, wasted so much potential. Much of my time was spent in regret, and the fact of the matter is that I would give anything and everything I've accumulated over the past year (e.g. money, incredible and valued experiences, a modicum of internet fame) just for a chance to do my 2008-2009 all over again.
Some of my feelings for the past year are perhaps best summed up in this monologue from Synecdoche, New York, delivered by an actor playing a priest at a funeral:
In a recent podcast episode, I discussed how this scene, with its randomness and heavy-handedness, holds in synecdoche everything that's wrong with the film Synecdoche, New York. But there is so much about it that speaks to me, not so much the "Fuck everyone," but rather: "There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make. You can destroy your life, everytime you choose...You only get one chance to play it out."
Up until this year, I haven't really thought that any of my decisions have had significant or lasting consequences on my life. For too long, I've foolishly believed that, with enough hard work and perseverance, any of my mistakes could be undone. But this has been the year of irreversible decisions, a year where my stupidity has torn asunder bonds that may never come together again. I've learned the painful way that sometimes in life, you only get one chance at doing something right (or in my case, two or three chances. But then that's it!).
So yeah, it's been rough.
But do you know what's awesome about life, and what's beautiful about America? Despite everything that's happened, there's so much to be grateful for. For undeserving guys like me, there are such things as second chances. And most of all, there is hope. The future is awash with the possibilities of the unknown, and while it's terrifying, it's also exciting. As horrifically awful as the past year has been, I remind myself that there's way too much good stuff to look forward to, even if I don't know what it's going to be. For those I've hurt, I take solace in the possibility of forgiveness. And for those who have benefited from my presence, I'm grateful to have shared in your lives.
The future energizes me and gives me strength. The possibility of a new chapter in my life constantly lurks around the corner, luring me away from the pain and regret of days past....
May the next 12 months be better than the last. For all of us.
Given all the teen-like angst and emo sensibility in the first half of this post, I should probably counterbalance it with some positive energy. Specifically, I don't think people in general take enough time to be thankful for the good in their lives, or to say to people the things they need to say. Maybe they think about it at Thanksgiving, but I like to do it on my birthday too (conveniently, the two dates are separated by about 6 months, giving me a regular interval for thankfulness).
Thanks go to my close friend, Wayne, who has been instrumental in guiding me through this past year. Without his constant listening ear, his companionship, and his candor, I probably would be completely lost right now. I will be very sad when he moves away soon.
It's been great getting to know my brother, Mike, better this year. I've always looked up to him for his monstrous degree of talent and for his tenacity. This year, I've begun looking up to him as a brother, a son, a leader, and a decent human being.
Thanks to Peter Sciretta, editor-in-chief of /Film, for plucking me out of obscurity just about a year ago and letting me play in the sandbox that is his powerhouse of a film blog. In the past year, I've reviewed Watchmen with Kevin Smith. I've chatted with director (and personal hero?) Rian Johnson. I've done a commentary on Groundhog Day with NED RYERSON (AKA Stephen Tobolowsky). Certainly, it's been an unforgettable year for me in the realm of movies, and I have him to thank for that.
I am grateful for my /Filmcast co-hosts, Devindra and Adam. It is difficult to deal with me and to trust me. You guys have done both for longer than anyone (including I) could have possibly expected. The same also goes for all of our listeners, especially those who have written movingly about how our show has affected their lives. And of course, to all our awesome guests who make the show possible.
I am extremely grateful to Dan Trachtenberg, who has become not only a great colleague, but also a trusted friend.
I have been blessed to have in my life people like Sara, Gabrielle, Angie, Thai, and the countless other friends who I've made or become closer to this year (who I've rudely left off this list on account of the fact that it's 3 AM as I write this), whose counsel and patience have become invaluable to me. I am so grateful for all of you, as you have helped me through difficult times in ways you probably cannot imagine.
And finally, to my true love: There is so much I have to say to you. As long as even the slightest chance exists, I will hope. I will pray. I will dream. Me ke aloha, a hui hou...