But Most of All...

Although I don't typically make resolutions, when a brand new year rolls around it's pretty difficult to ignore the impetus of new beginnings, the opportunity to change things, do things differently, make significant improvements in one's personal life and health. Yesterday, Andi posted a list of "Things I Would Like to Do" in 2011.  That sounded good to me ~ certainly there are things I'd like to do with this New Year, but I accept the fact that time and circumstance may not always make it possible.

In that spirit, then, here is my list:

• Spend less time on the internet and more time reading books and/or articles of substance
• Spend more time with my friends, which will require me to make more of an effort to connect with people
• Write more on both my blogs, and focus on writing well
• Make some positive headway on two writing projects I've had in mind for a few months now
• Make music more often
• Learn something new, like the art of creating beautiful handmade cards ( I have several friends who do this, and their cards each holiday season are miniature works of art)
• Take a yoga class

There's one other very big thing I hope do to in 2011.  You all may not know it, but  I have a melancholy streak a mile wide and it takes an enormous amount of effort to keep that from ruling my life.  Sometimes, the effort becomes nearly overwhelming ~ those are the days I come home and either collapse on the bed, throw things against the wall, or sit in stony silence until I can gather the courage to continue.  So as I put together a list of things I'm hoping to do this year, this tops the list:

.

One of the things I learned in therapy was that happiness is a state of mind.  "You're not happy unless you think you're happy"  says Gretchen Rubin, of The Happiness Project.  So this year I'm making a conscious effort to think about what I need to be happy and trying to make it so.

I'll keep you posted on my progress <smile>

How about you?  What things would you like to do in 2011?  What brings happiness to your life?

Day One

This isn't your typical New Year's Day post. I'm not going to talk about all the resolutions I'm making.

I'm not going to wax poetic about the future and all the wonderful opportunities waiting to arise in the New Year.

I am going to tell you one of my favorite things about the New Year.

My new calendar.

If there's anything I love more than notebooks, it's calendars. Paper calendars, mind you, none of this digital scheduling business.  Sure, I could enter all my activities in my phone or on my computer (like my husband and most of my friends do).

But for years and years, I've carried a little weekly pocket calendar in my purse, with a pen or pencil attached, and that works just fine and dandy for me.  Of course, my life isn't all that complicated.  I don't have many any business meetings to attend, my social life consists of getting together with a friend for lunch or dinner now and again,  and I go to doctor appointments once or twice a year on average (knock wood).  Since the wonderful intervention of post-it-notes, I jot down my to-do lists, or phone numbers and stick it inside on the page.

A few years ago my husband and I were at a meeting with our financial planner.  The three of us were trying to schedule a follow up meeting.  I whipped out my pocket calendar and sat poised and ready while they fumbled through their electronic scheduling devices searching for an appropriate time.

"What about June 9?" I asked.

Wait. Wait.

"No, can't, have a meeting," Jim answered.  "What about the 14th?"

"That fine for me," I replied, glancing at the little square marked "14" on the page.

Wait. Wait.

"Oh, looks like I'm on vacation," our FP said.

After about five minutes of fumbling around, they finally found a mutually agreeable date.  Within seconds, I jotted it down on my calendar and put it back into my purse.

Wait. Wait.

Sigh.

Aside from the increased amount of time it takes to manuever through the days on electronic calendars, I like to see the entire spectrum of a week or month right before me.  It bothers me to see my life split up into sections of time small enough to fit into the screen.  I guess I'm a big picture person ~ I like having it all laid out there in front of my eyes.

That's why I keep going back to my paper calendars.  For the past three years, my calendars have come to me from marketing samples sent to our company.  There's always lots of choose from, and they're nicely embossed with the company name.  Plus ~even better~ they're free!  <smile>.  Although I admit that I do covet fancy day planners, like these from Levengers.

But I guess I'll stick with my little free pocket version.  It serves my rather uncomplicated life quite nicely.

Why mess with success.

How about you?  How do you keep track of your days?

Re-Entry, Re-Newal

You probably thought I was still languishing on that sunny Floridian beach, didn't you? I'm not, more's the pity.

No indeed, late Monday evening I took the silver bullet express straight back to the hell that is Michigan in mid-winter.  When I woke up yesterday morning, I was greeted with skies the color of a battleship, and just about as menacing.  But they coordinated perfectly with the two inch layer of ice carpeting the driveway, not to mention the three week old slushy snow that's still piled in mounds along the roadsides.

Ick.

"How can you stand to come back here after being in Florida?" my boss asked me yesterday morning.

"It's not easy," I replied. "It always takes me a few days to accept the reality of my situation and come to terms with it."

I must admit that this particular re-entry has been harder than normal, and I'm sure I haven't been the most pleasant of people to be around for the past couple of days.  Even the dogs seem to sense it, looking at me warily from a distance as if they're unsure whether it's safe to approach.  I've actually written three blog posts since I got home and deleted every one of them as simply too depressing to post for public consumption.

So I'm trying to get myself into a more positive frame of mind before the ball drops on 2011.

One of the things I hope to do in 2011 is write more ~I say that every year, but this year I have a couple of writing projects in mind that might provide the impetus I need.  Also, several of my blogging friends (including my son!) have announced their intentions to do more writing...maybe we can all keep each other honest.

And in that vein - Wordpress just announced a new initiative called The Daily Post, a blog on which they will post something everyday in an effort to inspire other bloggers to do the same.  Check it out - I'm planning on signing up.  Nothing like a new project to give me something to look forward to.

It's not quite a walk on the beach, but it'll do for now.

How about you?  What creative goals do you have for 2011?

Christmas on the Beach

The other day I was writing about traditions (or notably the lack of them in my particular case), which led to me musing on the possibility of deliberately setting out to start a new holiday tradition. Well, gentle readers, I believe I have found one.

Christmas on the beach.

We woke up rather late this morning, and when we learned we'd have the morning alone (son was busy packing and boxing in final preparations for movers tomorrow) decided to drive down to the beach.  It was just the sort of beach weather I enjoy - not overly warm, bright sun, blue sky, gentle breeze.  Forgoing the beach paraphenalia - chairs, umbrella, refreshments - we smoothed sunscreen on our faces and hopped into the car.  We'll walk for a while, we thought, listen to the surf, collect some shells.

I was surprised to find lots of people at the beach on Christmas morning, many of them families with small children happily playing the sand, gathering buckets full of the shells which are so plentiful on the Gulf Coast.   One little girl kept running back and forth from a huge mound of seashells, filling a strainer and then rushing down to the ocean and dipping them in the waves.  "How about if I just rinse, Daddy?" she asked, when her father encouraged her to spend some time sifting through for perfect specimens.

A young couple walked dreamily hand in hand, so obviously dumb struck by the sheer wonder of each other's presence that they might as well have been walking on Mars as on Vanderbilt beach.

Grandparents sat huddled in sweaters and blankets, their Floridian blood not accustomed to the unseasonably cool breeze off the water, but bravely soldiering on for the sake of the grandchildren.

And we walked, just as we had planned, barefoot along the hard packed sand, occasionally drifting close enough to let the chilly water stream over our toes.  I chose a handful of shells which I'll layer into the big glass vase I have at home representing my finds of countless trips to the beach over the past 10 years.  The surf's gentle rhythm had its usual calming effect, traipsing through the sand made us nicely tired, and after about an hour we were ready to head home for some lunch and a nap.

Now there is chicken roasting in the oven, salad greens washed and ready to be tossed, some good bread about to be baked, and wine breathing in preparation for pouring.  Our little family will soon gather to share a meal and celebrate the goodness of the past and the hopeful promise of the future.

Although some of our Florida traditions will soon be ending, I was well pleased with the new one we started today.

...and to all a good night

So here we are,  just minutes away the from Day of Days, the one all children everywhere have been anticipating, the one Christians the world over have been awaiting, the day we've all been preparing for in some way, shape, or form, since Thanksgiving. Christmas.

I've been writing about the holiday in somewhat generic terms and musing on memories of holiday's in general rather than delve into the specifics of this holiday in particular.  There's a reason for that, which I'll get to in a minute.   But first, here's what Christmas means to me.

Hope.

At its heart, the celebrations which have evolved in the past 2010 years surrounding the birth of a Jewish baby in a manger stall in Bethlehem, are all about the amazing possibilities which can occur in the life of an ordinary person.  Mary, the Blessed Mother, was just an ordinary young woman.   Joseph, her husband, was only a humble carpenter.  Neither one of them had any claim to fame in their society.  Neither one of them was special in any way.   Yet somehow they gave birth to a miracle child, who became known as Wonderful Counselor, Blessed Savior, the Son of God.

Hope.

None of that could have  happened without Mary and Joseph's willingness to take a chance, to embrace the opportunity that came unto them, to journey into the unknown and welcome the possibilities that lay at the end of their journey.

Hence, the specifics of this holiday in particular for me.

Within the next week, my son and his wife will set out on a journey of their own, moving from their first home where they've lived all of their married life,  into another state far away, into another way of life, and into embracing a new family of friends.  It's a wise move for them, an opportunity to expand not only their careers, but their social network as well.   It's a move filled with positives, a move filled with hope.

I'm nothing but happy for them ~ and proud, too, that they have the courage to take on another life change with all the unknowns and plunge ahead  with such aplomb.  Like Mary and Joseph they go forward into the future, following the star of their dreams, not knowing exactly where it will lead but holding faith in the hope of brighter and better things to come.

Of course, I'd be lying if I said I had no sad feelings - I've loved having the ability to fly here and see them regularly and easily, to have the double luxury of having a vacation home in the same neighborhood so we can combine seeing our kid with having a nice getaway in sunny Florida.  Having them close by to look over the house and pick us up at the airport has been a blessing, one we'll really miss if we end up keeping our house here much longer.

But I know that a life without change and growth is no life at all.  And though I sometimes have to be dragged kicking and screaming into it, I believe change is the backbone of the thing I call hope.

The promise of something better to come.

That's what I wish for my best beloved son, and for all of you on this Christmas Eve night.