Here we go again. The holidays are over. I need a holiday.
I’ve already failed to do the simple things I promised myself I’d start at new year’s: exercise, stop eating sugar, write every day. This is my half-hearted attempt to do one of the three. I’m not optimistic about the other two.
My year of exploring poetry forms is officially over. I’ve been thinking about what to do next. I’m tempted to leave things to chance, go back to writing whatever comes out that day without the imposition of theme or form. I’m not sure how that will go. I’m afraid I’ll let too many days slide by without writing anything. But that happened last year, even with my assignment set for the month.
It didn’t matter in the end—I wrote until I didn’t.
I wrote until I had nothing to say.
I wrote until life intruded too much.
I wrote until obligations to others seemed more important than promises to myself.
This year I need to figure out how and where writing fits in my life. There are a lot of other changes I want to make, things I want to do. New habits, like exercising. And better choices, like eating well (which means taking time to cook healthy food). I want to read more books and waste less time online. Oh, and declutter the house. That might take a bit more effort.
For today, this is the best I’ve got. Or the most I’m willing to try. Or something in between.
The new year snuck up on me, and I’m unprepared. I’d like to wind time back a month, maybe two. Try this all again. But on I go—forward, like it or not.
May this year be better than last.
*A note about the header: I know it’s out of focus. I was trying to capture the ice on the trees before it melted, while still keeping my phone from getting dripped on. It’s not a great shot, but I haven’t anything better at the moment, so I’m using it for now.