I really cannot believe we're leaving town again tomorrow morning. It's for a good and happy reason, but we are all so tired and sick of suitcases and rather in serious need of some R&R which cannot be got in forty-eight hectic hours at home nor during a celebratory weekend away.
As I look ahead to 2016, as I see the excitement on social media, the resolutions being promised, the balls dropping every hour on the hour, I feel, simply, tired.
Tonight I will don a gold sequin mini skirt and heels and drink champagne and look back. I will feel grateful and shimmery and laugh with friends and peer forward too. I will come home and finish packing and brush my teeth and set an alarm. And I will look ahead to Monday when I hope to slow the train and pull it into the roundhouse.
I will sincerely do and mean all of those things.
The kids will return to school and Tom to work. I'll put the suitcases away and the few remaining Christmas remnants too. I'll write thank you notes and finally deal with the pile of clothes that I never wear but haven't yet parted with responsibly. Maybe it'll finally get cold.
I don't trade in New Year's resolutions, but instead plan to offer an intention, as my dear friend, Lisa, suggested. And that is to recognize and honor that I am not an infinitely charged battery. There is so much I want to do in this life and so many needs to meet. But what is a life lived if it's a fatigued blur?
It literally just occurred to me that I'm getting older. That I'm not immune to aging (fuck!). That in a short few months, I'll be 40. Which I have not one qualm about, but physical maturation doesn't give a fig about qualms.
So my intention is to live purposefully and energetically but less obligatorily. Why shine for others if the light left for me is dim, you know?
*This one goes out to the Trilium Waterholers and the Fabulous Foursome, among others!