Happy New Year, bitches. (my Devoted Dozen!)
A new year marks the moment when many people put loads of energy into changes and fresh starts. These are both good things – changes and fresh starts – and often necessary components of living a good life.
And let’s face it. Many of you fucked it up in 2017. You need a kick in the ass and a chance at a fresh start.
But as important as a boot in the butt is, so are reflection and gratitude, which (if you are doing them right) involve the same level of honesty.
Reflection involves looking back on what has been and measuring the value of it on what will be. The blessings, the sorrows and everything in between – they will all come again in the next 365 days of living. It is possible to be a product of your past and not a prisoner to it.
Gratitude also involves dipping a ladle into the stock of your life. Recognizing the role that others play in the positive things in it, giving credit where it is due, and forgiving yourself (and others) for mistakes that were made. Giving thanks also entails remembering that only stones tossed and tumbled become polished gems.
Resolutions Shmesolutions. My plan for 2018 is to keep living my life.
We tend to categorize our living paradigms through lenses of positive and negative. Being a dreamer is often mistaken for optimism, just as being realistic can get you labeled as a pessimist.
I don’t like those labels, certainly because they are reductionist, but also because I have found humans, as a general rule, to be much more complex. The glass is not half empty. The glass is not half full. It’s neither and it’s both and you’re missing the point. The glass of life comes with free refills.
And in my house, tonight, it is being filled with prosecco and joy.
In 2018, my goals will be realistic, my efforts genuine, my laughter easy.
I am going to be playful and mindful and happy.
Playful in my outlook towards life and love, mindful in my views of others and their experiences of the world, and happy in my skin, my space, my mind, my heart.
I can’t promise to be a better, kinder, gentler person. I’m not a good liar.
I won’t dedicate myself to new lifestyle regimes around health or fitness.
I’m too lazy. I love my body. And I love whisky.
I DO promise to show up in this space and continue to share life’s little treasures with healthy doses of humor and foul language.
Because I’m fucking charming that way.
Happy New Year, bitches.