It’s a new year.
Yes, I know that’s both an obvious statement and one that’s a bit overdue, as it’s been a new year for more than a week at this point. Almost two. Usually I’m a day-one, fresh-start, on-the-money kind of girl. Rip-roaring through my goal setting on January 1, stating them publicly, keeping track…you know the drill.
Last year was a tough year for me. I know I’ve said that already. Started off with a family suicide in February and went downhill from there. Every time I righted, I found myself thrown off balance again by some new tragedy, large or small. My life suffered. My writing suffered. My health suffered. My friends and family saw little of me. I withdrew into myself, trying to find some semblance of balance.
I have higher hopes for this year. Much higher hopes. I have goals too, but right now I’m focusing on the hopes. I’m sure tragedy will come–it always does–but I hope I will hande it better. Carry it more lightly. Keep returning to my writing and my loved ones as a way to sustain.
I hope. I hope. I hope.
Kiss kiss bang bang, s.
Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. ~William Wordsworth
ps — Cool image by blackfantastic