December 31st, 2007

head shot

A New Year

One of my Christmas gifts this year was a raku pottery sculpture called The Optimist. 

It was done by my cousin Flossie (who doesn't have a web presence but I'll let you know when she does -- you will want what she makes) and it is, as we speak, moving around the living room trying to settle into the appropriate resting spot from which to bless our new year. 

Lots of folk are busy today, making new year's plans and resolutions, cleaning the house, cooking black-eyed peas. 

We are busy, too, unpacking duffle upon duffle of snow gear and dirty socks. Adding new wheels to old scooters. Opening bills and Christmas cards that arrived while we were gone. For some reason, in the midst of this, the organic pest control company showed up for their biannual visit and the girls decided they needed to paint lots of things with acrylic paints.

It is warm, under a bright blue sky, and we are happy to be home, but we're in a muddle of overwhelm. 

Which, by the way, is not exactly what I want to carry into the new year. 

Overwhelm? No thank you. 
Optimism? OK. Yes. That I can do.

It used to be that I let January 1st come and go with a simple glass of champagne and a kiss or two. September 1st always felt like my new year -- I love the academic calendar and there's something about new pads of paper and pencils that kickstart my sense of resolve. But lately, I've grown fond of this new year, too. Maybe it's that I need more fresh starts than I used to. As a mom, a writer, a partner, a friend -- in a body older than it used to be and with fewer decades sitting open ahead of me.

But regardless of age or logic, here we are. On the doorstep of another year. I do not have big plans (yet) nor have I made big promises (to myself or other people) -- although I admire those of you who do and have. 

For now, today, I'm sticking with The Optimist. I'm looking forward into this next year and actually expecting delight. Glasses more than half full, pages more than half full, arms more than half full, a home more than half full, a world more than half full -- of love, peace, surprise, wisdom, ideas and delight.

Happy New Year. I see great things in your future, too!