On the eve of a new year it’s become somewhat of a tradition around here (three years makes a tradition, yes?) to celebrate the achievements of the past year. (It’s my humble opinion that personal resolutions can, and should, be made with every new sunrise. And that attempting to make major life overhauls using the calendar as a motivator is a dangerous and disappointing game.) And despite the tone of general crap that the last year has taken for me, there are bright spots. The task of enumerating them felt daunting and I almost bailed. But when I forced myself to think it through, something happy happened. I started to feel better. The past months started to take on a brighter light. The months ahead started to feel less oppressive. Exactly the point I suppose. But still, a bit of a surprise. So, if you’re feeling like your year was unproductive, I invite you to dig deeper and find the small accomplishments. Count them and celebrate them. And then move forward and make more.
This year was about:
friendships, new and old
dreams, long abandoned, becoming reality
the imaginations of children (my amazing children)
family coming through for me again and again (and again)
facing fears and admitting faults
living it. every. single. day.
Happy new year my friends.
Sometimes, when I take a while away from writing, from this neighborhood of ours, I consider whether I might be finished with whatever might have been my business here. If it’s becoming a chore and a burden, well then it’s no longer serving it’s purpose as a place to expand and create. So I wait. I relieve myself of the guilt by dismissing it and I wait for something that needs to be said. And something always needs to be said. Still. It’s been a difficult year. For the most part it’s felt artificial to write about joy and it’s been too painful (or personal) to write about the rest. So I’ve been quiet. But to say that I miss you all is an understatement. And I’m not ready to move away from our neighborhood yet. But clearly, for me, some sort of transformation is underway. No longer a blog about quilting. Never the blog I had intended about parenting my special-needs child. No such thing as ‘just’ a mommy-blog. Photos. Words. Invaluable connections formed.
Thank you for being there. Here’s to more of the same and looking forward to whatever comes next.
Last weekend I had an opportunity to spend the weekend in Maine.
During my college years I made the trip between New York City (my hometown) and Orono (Google it) in one or another clunker so many times that my memories surrounding the drive might be tainted with a case of PTSD. But this trip was different. And not only because I wasn’t driving a 1978 Oldsmobile Cutlass Wagon or because I had a cell phone. I was a grownup (for as much as that means) getting away for the weekend. I had a quick bit of work to do and a hotel room waiting and friends to visit with.
And my camera.