In this moment, the promise of a new year is as tall as the thunderhead in the photo. Dense and electric and textured. All I have to do is reach out and grab it. The question is: why is seizing the day so hard?
Much is made of New Year’s resolutions. There are those who are into the anti-resolution, those who will only state their intentions, those who set goals, and even more who spend January 1 recovering from the final goodbye to the year before.
This week, I replaced all the photos on my inspiration wall with 8 x 10s of my favorite moments from 2014—vacation photos, vignettes of my starry-eyed teens, and a single shot of Bacon and I leaning against the sign marking the boundary to our personal paradise. They’re supposed to remind me of why I write. They’re my audience, but they also tie me to my comfort zone. I’m comfortable with my memories, even the miserable ones. Although it’s not on the wall, the cold night in the mud at the top of the mountain makes me wistful. After all, I lived to laugh about it.
It takes real strength to shove the clouds aside and focus on what’s ahead. Shaping the unknown into a new memory is the challenge of the new year. You’re invited to follow along. I’m sure to fall in the mud, but I’ll do my best to share a laugh about it.
CRISPLY SPOKEN 