Writing has always been a part of me. A passion in me. I love words and writing the way some love math or science. Writing has always been a safe space for me to escape, deal, or find balance in my life. I am often torn between trying to convince myself to attend a writer’s conference or yoga retreat (both of which I seem to be frightened to do) in order to push the best out of me even more.
It dawned on me recently that the journals (yes, I have more than one) toted around for a year do not carry many of my thoughts. No. I hadn’t actually written in them ALL year. The one in my purse usually is filled with to-do lists or things of needing to remember (not thoughts). The one beside my bed remains empty. The one in the office is probably empty too. Last New Years Eve I took my words from a certain journal (kept the jacket of it because it was a gift and the handmade art in it is too cool so I keep other things, not words inside it) and I burned them. I burned ALL the poems and well, anything I had written on a specific life experience. I really didn’t see it as handicapping my ability to write. I saw it as a need to let go of something in what I thought was a positive way. I love bonfirin’ on New Years Eve…like burning out the old year to find a way to embrace a new one. I thought by burning my words I never wanted to talk about again (or others read when I leave this earth) would bring about peace. In a way it very much did…bring about peace…but also what came from it is I just stopped writing altogether.
I have just been carrying around empty notebooks. Sounds pretty pathetic when you read it out loud. But it is not nor can I sit in shame with it. For whatever reason my spirit didn’t write the way I use too and now for whatever reason (I lie, I lie, there is no ‘whatever reason’, I know the reasons and nope, I doubt you do) my words only hangout in my head, the occasional blog, text, or prayers said out loud.
I spent 2017 on a major mindful journey that I am certain has become a part of my daily life. In that mindfulness perhaps my words needed to stay hushed for a bit. Lord knows all too well that sometimes I can be misinterpreted easily or pop off with the wrong thing. Who the fuck are we kidding, this is a most of the time for me.
It is clear that 2018 requires some resolutions (perhaps printed and posted in the office to remind myself). Because here is the thing, it’s not just writing I stopped doing. It is much BIGGER than that. I stopped doing a lot of things. A lot. And few have noticed.
Whether I share words online or in a notebook I really should allow myself to let it flow again the way I have begun to flow in my yoga. And fuck anyone who dislikes it…because honestly, who is left to offend? I am only offending myself by crippling my mind with the holdings. It is unhealthy.
So my 2018 New Years Resolutions are:
- Write every single day..in a journal, here, there, wherever. Just write woman!
- Walk on the beach more
- Leave the house more often
- Face fears in losses, I CANNOT LOSE WHAT I NEVER HAD! (So, if I ever had it, let it come back to naturally). FEAR IS A LIAR!
- Entertain again
- Pursue what I have ALWAYS wanted to do
- Place my barefeet on desert dirt again. Somehow. I am so homesick for the desert.
- Keep fighting the sugars!
- Camp more
- Read more
- Watch less tv
- Stay in a mindful state as best I can
- Volunteer
- DO NOT GET SICK FOR CHRISTMAS AGAIN! REMEMBER HOW BAD IT SUCKED WOMAN!!!
- LIVE!!!
Reasonable resolutions…may your resolutions bring about a beautiful spirit, lift your year up, and much heart to your life. And more chocolate…cuz chocolate fixes everything.
The Ramblings of an Aging Woman... 