2018 is here. Thank you to my cousin Karen for another line to keep me in my strong place this year:
New year's resolutions inspire some funny reactions. Some people make them and stick with them, like my cousin Karl or my brother Erik. Karl took a picture every single day one year, and Erik has been reading 50-odd books a year since I think 2014. This type of resolve is admirable, but it almost has the tendency to annoy other people who lack the strength to stick with a ballsy new habit announced amidst the joyful jubilee of New Year's Eve or the weeks leading up to it. I don't judge these people, these resolution-making-wannabes who stop going to the gym come February. I more judge the resolution they made, because it must not have been very important.
This year I'm flirting with the possibility of a "running streak." I want to run at least 1 mile every day of 2018, with 3-4 days per week being lengthier runs. I'm two days in and of course it's going fine, because I can do anything for two days. I've only had one day of work, though, and today's short jaunt felt hard and it was uncomfortably chilly outside. I'll just have to see if this resolution is important or not. I am the kind of person who drops something without an afterthought if I determine it's not enhancing my life (I suppose that is a euphemism for, "I am the kind of person who lacks resolve," but I am trying to have more self-respect this year, too).
Now it's time for some 2017 honest truths:
- I drank way too many beers and am developing a tastes for sauvignon blanc, which is certainly not surprising but definitely not a good thing.
- I did moderately well with healthy eating, but this hasn't really been a problem for me. Well, unless you count my candy-hoarding years between the ages of 7 and 9. I also have always exercised regularly, even when I was a rotund candy-hoarder. I just like to exercise.
- I did an excellent job "leaving work at work" and managing my stress levels in a relatively high-stress job.
- I completed an Olympic-distance triathlon in around the same time as I would when I was in college, which was frustrating because I actually tried to ride my bike a bit this summer but comforting because I am only getting older, after all.
- My Aunt Kay wrote periodically over the year and her musings have completely changed my perspective, on pretty much everything, for the better. She has battled ALS with strength and grace for over 4 years now. If she can handle that and still hold on to her humor, personality, and zest for life, how could I possibly complain about anything? This is not to say I haven't complained, because complaining - relentlessly and with extraneous verbosity - is one of my greatest talents. I complained last night after eating too much Tasty Asia and letting the reality of going back to work settle in for real. But it's more of a comic complaining now: "Oh, woe is me, my dad bought me dinner and I have a job!"
- The biggest thing I have now - after reading Aunt Kay's writing and being with my family and friends and really seeing the big picture for the first time in my life - is the ability to enjoy. I honestly don't think I've been very good at enjoying until this past year. But I've worked on it, my ability to experience pure joy (thanks for that phrase, Aunt Kay). I love falling asleep on the couch to crappy television at night with Adam. I love watching Ryder get excited about anything. I love getting to work early enough to feel organized and prepared, and I love leaving at 3:15 to get a good workout in in the daylight when I feel like it. I love seeing my mom when she gets back from Tucson, but I also love hearing her laughing over Facetime while she's in Tucson with her sister and the people who need her so much. I love walking up Indian Trail in Tucson with my dad, Erik, and Adam, and hearing my husband and my brother talk all the way up the hill. I don't mind being quiet on these walks, listening, or sometimes my dad and I will start playing and brazenly singing 70s music (much to Erik's chagrin). I love being in the mountains, preferably Arizona or Colorado, because both of those feel like home. I love being in the car singing, with my mom or Adam, driving to and from New Mexico.
I'd like to close with a picture from Santa Fe and an applicable Iron & Wine lyric, all the while wishing everyone a new year full of strength to stick with your resolutions (but only if they're worth it). The lyric comes from the end of the song, and it reminds me of myself when I was younger for some reason. I don't feel like I'm blowing away anymore.
from "New Mexico's No Breeze" by Iron & Wine
God gave you bobwhites
and the good kind of black night
when you left Santa Fe.
New Mexico's no breeze,
and you were so 19
you were blowing away . . .
