Wednesday, January 1, 2014

from here

I've taken in as much air as my lungs can stand; I think I'm ready for it: another year, should I be so blessed to get to the end.

In truth, I've never been happier. This makes me nervous (because I've got roots made of faithless uncertainty, that's why). I'm also nervous about what's coming up: so much of what began in 2013 is going to deepen in 2014...all those lessons...oy. I stood up tall last year though, and at the end of December, danced and toasted and cheered, but this doesn't negate the weight of what I feel might be coming my way. Did I mention lessons?

I've actually got to be responsible with my money now, and my time - both run shorter than I'd like them to, and I'm feeling the crunch. Speaking of crunches...my gym membership is up in June. I should probably use that.

Then there are the books I still haven't written, the parties I haven't yet planned. There are many milestones ahead, and they're all made up of details; lists are my new normal. I haven't journaled in six years, but I've blogged somewhat, though not as much as I should, so I hope to do that more. Cookbooks stand at the ready for trials and testing - both of the recipe, and the cook - and there are school lunches, social gatherings, kind gesture intentions, and quiet evenings to provide for.

Daily schedules are already lining themselves up. I can hear the Master Calendar shouting orders from his regimented-horse-top, square-shouldered, stiff-spined post already, as each task clicks their boots into place: alarm clocks practice their beeping, papers shuffle upon the desk. My running shoes are the first ones in line, whooping and hopping up and down in expectation. Meanwhile, soft clothes stretch their way off the hangers, tea brews, blankets yawn in invitation. Two lines form, then intermingle. The contrast is the balance, and both sides are needed. Maybe this year I'll remember the balance. My heart is the overseer here, listening in the buzz for overtones, warnings, sweet sighs and pockets of joy.

All of this has me wondering, not about specifics (surprise is the stuff of life), but whether or not I've got it. Can I do all of these things? And then some? And handle my humanity in the process? I'm feeling a little faltery. But I've got a strong set of hands, an even stronger set to hold, and a million reasons to be thankful. There is an entire horizon of good in front of me, and the most beautiful moments yet to unfold, and I can't quiet contain my excitement for any of it. My overseeing heart suggests: it'll be just fine.

From here I go; at rest, with much anticipation. There is a year to be had, and I intend to make it the best.



photo source unknown.

3 comments:

anita said...

"And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad." - C.S. Lewis
xo

afterthoughtcomposer said...

time to hatch, doll.
xo
a.

Mama said...

I have every confidence in you. Above all, as you go, remember to rest in the Hands that brought you along.
Love you so.