This year we ended our holiday trip with a three hour drive home from my mom's house, arriving in the early afternoon. I drank two cups of coffee, and then Sun declined the generous parental offer of a nap in his very own bed, and dashed my hopes of cleaning the house with my caffeine buzz. I looked around at the bags to unpack, the mess my son was currently creating with a whine, while overtired and teething, the afternoon already beginning to grow dark and get away from me, the unspent caffeine buzzing in my veins and I felt frustration rising. I went into the kitchen, made a pizza and put it in the oven. While it cooked, I went upstairs and sat alone in the attic. Our attic is converted; it's a bedroom with diagonal walls, built into the roof of the house. I lay on the futon we keep upstairs for guests and stared out the window at the thick, white, fast falling snow. My husband called up to tell me that we were in a storm and would likely be snowed in through tomorrow afternoon. As I watched the cold, winter weather from the safety of my warm, wood-colored attic, I felt my frustration melt away, and turn to awe. I felt humbled by my luck and my blessings, and my earlier feelings seemed petty, unworthwhile and easy to release. I felt deeply humbled by the blessing that is my baby, unworthy of such a gift, and I rushed down the stairs to hold him, to breathe in his scent, to carry him to my husband and clutch his hand, and to kiss them both. I was overcome with a feeling of deep commitment to doing the best I can, not just for myself, but for them: for my family.
This feeling was so different than last year because last year I felt: this will fall into place. This will all fall right into place. It will happen like magic. I can see over vistas and into the heavens from right here on my couch and I can smile and make magic happen. This year I feel like: Now it's time to work. Now it's time to climb. Gather my loved ones close, and count my blessings. Now I must earn this, create this. I feel a calling this year to reach outside of myself in some way that I haven't defined yet. I'm still sitting with the feeling now, and it may end up taking some time to define, but last year I sat atop a vista and this year I'm in a valley, and I may have some climbing to do once I gather my bearings.
My New Year's Resolutions flowed from the moments described above. So last year's were a bit delusional and over the top, but I did eventually scale them down and achieve some of them, or steps toward them. Others I failed completely. And I think this year will end up being more of a recommitment to the day-to-day work of the same dreamy ideals I conjured into fancy last year. With, as will be my new annual tradition: a few wild and unrealistic dreams tossed into the mix as a shout out to my Inner Old Perv, and a wink and a thank you to the Universe who nurtures us, Old Pervs, delusions and all. Happy New Year!