All good things must come to an end…

One might think this a strange title for a blog post to begin 2019, but with all beginnings there is the sense of something ending, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. But enough with the powerful imagery - I am not actually referring to the end of 2018 and all the good things it brought (which in fact were many), but rather the end of my streak of good health. That’s right, after constantly boasting of escaping the festive period without illness, I find myself bedridden, diseased, and feeling more than a little sorry for myself. To top it off my whole household is suffering. Percy alone is chirpy, which is rather the reversal of the norm. Hence every sentence is punctuated by me periodically coughing my guts up, leaking a few tears of pain and self-pity before blowing my nose, telling myself to ‘suck it up and deal with it’, drinking some disgusting tea that promises to make me better and snuggling back under my day blanket in an attempt to feel human again. It’s not quite the way I envisioned my January, but nevertheless I shan’t let it dampen my spirits. My illness was not conducive to a heartfelt rendition of Auld Lang Syne, but I did not let it hold me back from a midnight toast, a wonderful evening spent with friends, and general joyous jubilations for the waving goodbye to 2018 and the seeing in of 2019 - my most exciting year yet.

It is very easy in this life to feel as if you haven’t achieved all that you wanted to, or all that people expected you to. We live in a world that is fast paced and high stakes, where careers are a badge of honour and wage packets are flaunted, but I hope this is not at the expense of pure and simple happiness. A few months ago I found myself looking at my life, frustrated, angry and disappointed in myself for not having already made a success of it. Then, after a little reconsidering, I realised that great things aren’t particularly likely to happen overnight, and I was expecting the almost impossible and then lashing out at myself and others when I didn’t make it happen. But this is why 2018 has been such an important year for me. Yes there has been a sense of achievement, what with graduation and taking a show up to the Fringe, but more important than that there has been an acceptance of and embracing of failure. For too long I have been terrified of failing, but failure is a byproduct of ambition, and of aiming high. I would rather fail having tried than never to have tried at all. So I enter the new year with an air of excitement, ambition, but also realism. I will try my very best, I will be a better human, I will work hard and take up any opportunity I can, remaining positive, optimistic, and never losing sight of myself in amongst all the stress and upsets life may throw at me. Because more so than ever I feel very lucky to be alive (even if at half pace at the moment), lucky to have my friends and family, lucky to be pursuing something I love, and I hope this rubs off on all those around me. There are so many little joys and victories in life, whether it’s doing a small good deed every day, whether it’s reading a book you love, recommending a film you enjoyed or just generally ‘spreading the love’ as they say.

…Oh dear...I think the infection is making me delirious and slowly killing my cynicism. Let’s hope I get better before I get any more gooey on the inside…here comes another coughing fit…