DEAR ALIZARIN: Pi and other mysteries of the universe

We all know that Pi equals 3.14. Repeating. We know what it is and we know that we do not know where it ends and somehow, we all live with that without anxiety and worry and without having to make up some lie to cover the fact that we do not know where Pi really ends.

Yet, with almost everything else we weave illusions and tell tall tales to ourselves and others -- our own expansive world of mythology -- to cover the fact that we do not know whatever it is we long to know or to cover the ugliness of ourselves we do not want to believe.

And they work, these illusions. Or so we think. Then a wind comes in and holes form. And we don't know anything. Like the beautiful, stable boat we have been sailing along in, sailing away from that person who is your Pi -- sweet, delicious, and evil without an end or explanation. We love the boat, we love our new journey, only to realize that we forgot to cut the very, very, very long rope and the tugging as the length is reached jerks you across the boat and a pain you thought you would never feel again rediscovers you. But you know, that it is not the end. You cut the rope, but you remember that, no matter where you cut off pi, it repeats, endlessly, regardless of what you do.

So, my new year's resolution is to stop trying to figure out my pi. I will choose the best story, go with it, and let pi keep repeating itself. Leave happy, well-wrapped endings for the likes of Hollywood. I still have my boat and while salt water sometimes splashes in to remind me that my wounds are still open, I can glide forward knowng this. This is my resolution to strive towards resolution, to not let the past sink me or anchor me to where I no longer want to be.

I also will eat better and exercise and be kind to others and myself. And I will wish for world peace and all that other good stuff.

Lychee