Skip to main content

january people.

New year's day I dont think I left the couch. Hardly. Except to go to chickfila, because I don't like black eyed peas...unless they sing.
The same exact couch my daughter had puked all over the day before. I was not sick, or in a rut or even nursing a hangover.  I just wanted to rest and I don't think was quite ready to face a new year.
I eventually got dressed and took my kids to the gym so they could swim while I watched all the people upstairs running no where on the treadmills. I did not join them. My kids or the people kicking off their new year's resolutions.

Day one of 2013 and I ate waffle fries and did not work out. Instead I watched about 5 hours straight of TNT.

I figured I could do this whole new year thing tomorrow.

And suprisingly I did, minus the peas.
I got up and made a list. A long one of things I needed to do that day, that I should have been doing all week. And I managed to scratch off almost all of them.
I wiped off the counters.
I made a second cup of coffee and did about 5 loads of laundry.
I thought about grading papers (no, I did not actualy grade any but this was still progress).
I swept the floor.
I went back to the gym and this time I worked out. Hard.
I emailed a few people I hadn't talked to in a while.
I paid my speeding ticket. Which took a good half hour and multiple phone calls to the fine city of Childress.
I downloaded a book I have been wanting to read.
I shaved my legs.
When soccer practice was canceled I got a babysitter and went on a date. A real date.
I wrote, which clearly I have not been doing in a while.
The only TV I watched was the night before's episode of Parenthood. And no one with any kind of taste could blame me for that.
I had a beer and went to bed early.

I woke up again today and made another list.
Even longer than yesterday's. This time it wasn't just stuff I needed to do like clean out my car and pick up my contacts --but things I want to accomplish this year.
Some were easy. Things I could check off today. Others were harder and scarier and I'm not sure I can  accomplish them.
but I wrote them down anyways.
caught up in the newness of the year.
of wanting to be better.
hopeful.
because it is January and that is what we do.
I went to the store and bought arugula. (and oreos).
I put what I spent into a budget app. (this maybe the most shocking accomplishment of the day).
I went back to the gym and did some sweaty yoga. (which I love but have done all of once in the last year!)
I made fig, brie, walnut and pancetta sandwiches (I'm not sure how healthy that is, but Tess has been watching ALOT of food network and I can't hope but soak a little bit of it in....and it was maybe the most amazing sandwich I have ever eaten....and made me add "buy a panini press" to my list of things to do this year).

At the grocery store, everyone was filling their carts with organizy things and healthy things. There were entire aisles for giant plastic tubs and anything made my Special K. (I should confess that I bought neither, but did buy some cake balls). The gym was so crowded that I could get a decent workout just from walking from my parking space to the door.
I hate January. I despise February. And pretty much any month that you shouldn't wear shorts and where it gets dark before dinner. There is a direct correlation between the amount of sunshine and my happiness level. And this time of year it isn't in my favor.
But I love January people.
People who, even if it is just a little while, believe that they can be better.
That this is their year.
That try. for a few days. or weeks. or months. to be kinder. healthier. holier. more of who they already are but just seemed to forget in the last few months. or maybe since last January.

Tonight while I laid on my mat for the first time in six or more months.breathing in and out drenched in sweat,  being my own january person.
someone reminded me to "honor the beginning"

"Beginnings can be delicate or explosive. They can start almost invisibly or arrive with a big bang. Beginnings hold the promise of new lessons to be learned, new territory to be explored, and old lessons to be recalled, practiced, and appreciated. Beginnings hold ambiguity, promise, fear and hope. Don’t let the lessons, the experiences of the past, dampen your enthusiasm for the beginnings. Just because it’s been hard doesn’t mean it will always be difficult. Don’t let the heartbreaks of the past cause you to become cynical, close you off to life’s magic and promise. Open yourself wide to all that the universe has to say. Let yourself begin anew. Pack your bags. Choose carefully what you bring, because packing is an important ritual. Take along some humility and the lessons of the past. Toss in some curiosity and excitement about what you haven’t yet learned. Say good-bye to those you are leaving behind. Don’t worry who you will meet or where you will go. The way has been prepared. The people you are to meet will be expecting you. A new Journey has begun. Let it be magical. Let it unfold."
— Journey to the Heart, Melody Beattle

Maybe I am a little late starting the new year, but today, I will honor the beginning. and tomorrow I hope to wake up and do it all over again.
And maybe in February. and March and even after the sun comes back out -- I can still be a January person.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

pace yourself

Tonight I went running with a friend ten years my junior. I asked her how far she was running and when she said only about 1.5 or 2 miles, I teased her that I could go at least twice that far. And to just let me know when she needed to stop. I have been running pretty regularly for the last few weeks. It isn’t long but keep increasing my time and distance. I’ve stopped getting blisters. I don’t suck wind after five minutes anymore and I was feeling pretty good about myself. Thinking I might even be able to out run this girl who was so much younger and obviously in more shape than me. As we started to jog I told her that I run pretty slow. Like my husband used to walk beside me while I ran, slow. And she slowed her gait a little bit for me but it was still faster than I usually go. I was a little embarrassed and was not going to ask her to slow down again. So I just ran at her pace. I stayed close. And was fading fast. A little over a mile in I was ready to quit. Again, pride, which isn...

pursue something else.

Americans like the idea of happy. of pursuing happiness. It is even one of our inalienable rights at least according to the Declaration of Independance. But I think maybe we should pursue something else. like love or joy or peace or contentment. and leave happy alone. Don't read me wrong. I am neither bitter nor cynical. Even my problems are good problems. I am positive. Half full. And most days I laugh a whole lot more than I cry. And simple things like a dance party in the living room, an hour alone in Barnes and Noble, the yellow pajama pants my son picked out for me for mother's day, potstickers, clean sheets, someone surprising me with coffee, jeans fresh from the dryer, a good song on the radio, or squeals of delight when I walk in the door all make my heart sing. They make me happy. For a minute. But when the squealing turns to screaming, my new pants are dirty, the sheets are in a jumble on the floor or the coffee runs out....where does that leave me? And happy isn'...

my first dance

My wedding day is a little bit of a blur. And it was a great day. But so many people and so much going on and so many moments that it is hard to remember them all clearly without the help of photographs. But I totally remember my first dance as a bride. And it wasn’t with my husband. Or even my father, or brother. I had quickly kicked off my heels and hid them underneath a table. Said my hellos and hugs and smiled until my face hurt. Someone ushered us through the buffet line and I piled my plate with hors d'oeuvres and headed to a table. But before I could pop a single shrimp in my mouth someone grabbed me firmly by the arm and pulled me onto the dance floor and into a jitterbug before I could protest. It was my husband’s granddaddy. A man I had only met about a few times and heard say about as many words. So I was a little surprised when he spun me around the dance floor. Eventually that night I danced with my husband. And my dad. And probably even my brother. But my fir...