I cherish rituals and, every year, between December 27 and 29, I empty my battered 30 year Filofax of its one-page a day diary and insert the refill I bought back in October. I go through the pages half- filled with pencil scribbled notes, hunting for friends’ and family’s birthdays to annotate in the pristine new diary: even if Facebook and my phone do remind me in much more technological ways of these festive events, taking the time to copy them over makes me feel closer to the people who crowd my heart, while evaluating the year that has just passed in the space of 15 minutes. Appointments, things to do, the satisfaction of the check marks – all that has populated 365 days is there, at a glance: happy, sad, indifferent.
It’s been a hard year in many ways but not a bad one. For 2015 I am not looking for sweeping changes, emotional windfalls (although a financial one would be rather welcome) or course-altering decisions. Rather, I am hoping for a fine-tuning on the journey of acceptance I have embarked on:
- Finding grace in the drab and the annoying;
- Keeping my thoughts clear and without fear of voicing them;
- Ramping up the “being of service” part of my life.
- And, finally, stop complaining about having too much to do. My friend Silvia made me promise I would take it easy during these few days of vacation in the desert between Christmas and New Year. I am proud to say, I broke my promise as I went about working out, cooking casseroles and chicken pot pies, running around with the dogs and embarking on a project research on behalf of a friend that, frankly, could have waited until next week.
That is who I am and it has served me well: the lists, the obsession for keeping my house clean, the baking of extravagant cakes just because, the perpetual movement are, in the end, always counterbalanced and they kept my life interesting. So, 2015, bring it on.
May your year be gentle, generous and may you choose to spend an itsy-bitsy portion of it on our couch.