Bring on the Year of the Motherfucking Heart.
Bring on the Year of the Motherfucking Heart.

Bring on the Year of the Motherfucking Heart.

2015 was a rough year for so many of us in the world. Private and public heartbreak, hopebreak, lifebreak everywhere. I won’t list all the reasons, because you’re paying attention to the world and you know them already. And you know the way your heart feels bruised, like bad fruit, and how your bones feel heavy, like you’ve landed on the wrong world and the gravity is killing you.

But. But. But. But, 2015 was also a brilliant, bold, and fucking fierce year. 2015 was teeth and claws. Fur everywhere. Scratching and clawing for shit that matters. 2015 was a battlefield, a howling mass of force that wouldn’t shut up, wouldn’t sit down, and wouldn’t go quietly into the night.

Maybe that’s every year. Maybe I’m stating the obvious. Maybe I’m just getting old and I feel my wounds more this year than I have in the past. But I don’t think so. I think we’re on the brink of big change, and that takes its toll. I believe in fighting–getting down in the mud and dirt and blood–but I also believe I can change the world by kindness, human empathy, respect, communication, education, and the fierce beats of my blood.

And that’s why I am declaring 2016 to be my Year of the Motherfucking Heart.

What does that mean? Time will tell, but I already know that it means a few things:

  • More writing. I don’t protest, I don’t yell, and I don’t sign petitions. But goddamn it, I write shit that changes the world. And I will continue to do so this year.
  • More fiction. See above. Fiction fuels my heart, and when I’m fueled, I’m ferocious.
  • More time with and focus on those I love. As an introvert, an overworker, and someone who struggles with social anxiety, I forget to connect with other hearts.
  • More movement. My literal heart–the one that keeps me alive–needs to keep me alive a lot longer. And that means taking good care of it as I move into my mid-40s.
  • More sex. See above. Sex is good for the heart (literal and figurative) and it keeps me connected to my body, my passion, and my communication skills.
  • More kindness and human empathy. To myself, to others. Input and output, both. The world is hard, we’re all broken and wounded and scrambling for some tiny foothold. I have the power to offer a hand, a dollar, a kind word, and I will do so whenever possible.
  • Be the octopus. Adaptable, playful, inventive, original, and gives the best hugs.




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