Happy New Year...slightly late and somewhat discombobulated, but I'm still here, and that's a thing, isn't it? This year I didn't make any resolutions, a break with my usual tradition. Late on New Year's Eve night my sister asked me about it; she wanted to hear my normal list full of self-improvement schemes and book-writing plans. But you know what? I didn't have one, and somehow, that was a very satisfying feeling.
Instead of focusing on all the things I absolutely must get done, this year I think I'm going to focus on self-care. That's not to say that I won't be doing anything--I'll still be writing and gardening and teaching and traveling, but I'm going to give myself permission to not do some of those things as well. I'm going to allow myself to read away afternoons from time to time, or sit in my garden and just enjoy the flowers instead of endlessly worrying about all of the chores that need to be done. I'm going to write from my heart, and maybe a lot of it won't even see the light of day, but I'm giving myself permission to be ok with that. My family and I have heretofore been fortunate enough to be relatively healthy, comfortable, and happy, and I'm going to just sit back and enjoy that a bit.
Instead of that little voice inside me whispering endlessly about all of the chores/projects/tasks I haven't completed today, I'm going to focus on listening when it says, "You have my permission to do absolutely NOTHING right now. You have my permission to just sit here for a while, to finish that book, to color a picture with your daughter. You have my permission to just chill the fuck out.
So that's my resolution this year, if you want to call it that. I'm gonna chill the fuck out.
Now, off to read that book.