the beginning of a new year holds all the same hopes every time it comes around. hopefully this year i'll lose weight at an astonishing rate and finally, after about 25 years of trying, be thin. hopefully i won't get behind on the housework or forget to get the washing out of the machine so often or spend so much money. hopefully this year will be the year i finally feel secure in my job, or the year i finally see myself excel as a mother. hopefully i will stress less, shout less, cry less, feel less ugly, be on time for everything, and smile all the time.
as if!
...but in the beginning, anything is possible.
these are my possibilities, my hopes, my moments of elation prior to disappointment:
1) this year i will invite peace into my life. i will take care of little things so that they don't surmount to a big pool of worry inside me and come bursting out through my tear ducts at inopportune moments, or even worse, in the form of terrible sulky behaviour in my home (of which i am to completely rid myself).
2) i will turn off the telly in favour of a quiet read, a bath, a conversation, or even an early night.
3) i will spend more quality time with the people i love, and less time complaining to them about my exhaustion, my stress, my worries or my angst.
4) i will create things when i can, invest in the process of creating, and refuse to be afraid of my limitations.
these are not new years resolutions. it's more of an attitude change i suppose. i'm starting this blog to not only record my thoughts and feelings as i embrace this new attitude, but as a discipline in writing, to force all these words out of me that seem to clutter up my unorganised mind and create something that is more than just a beginning. i wonder if this will be my only post?
