Don't Kill the Bird

I am still working on the mental list of New Year's Resolutions. Every time I think about what I'd like to accomplish this year, I can think of nothing beyond the moment. I guess that's pretty healthy, but I think that it probably has something to do with the fact that I just don't want to start blowing air into the hope balloon only to have it popped by the poking needle of the shit sandwich that life sometimes feeds us.

Yet, isn't that inviting failure into my life?

If I continually try to protect myself from the downs in life, I am sure to miss the opportunities for the ups. I'm not game for that right now because I'm a believer... in miracles, in people, in goodness. If I become intimidated by silence, indifference or rejection, haven't I failed, even though I have chosen do nothing?

Tori Amos sings a song and there is one line that plays over and over in my head everytime I think of making my list of New Year's Resolutions: "There's just an empty cage if you kill the bird." It seems to be a reminder to me that if I neglect moving forward with my dreams in order to thwart pain, then my heart is dead, like the bird and I am simply left with an empty cage. Do I defend this empty cage? Do I keep it unlocked and hope that the bird returns when the shit sandwich has been handed over to someone else?

I'm not quite ready to make that list, but I will indeed make it. I just need to strengthen my wings a bit more so that when I am ready, I can fly away from the cage, alive, and return to it as a resting place, as a spot to relax and refuel between conquests.