Sunday, January 1, 2017

New Year, No New Me.

So, I've had an amazing Christmas through to New Year.

We've chilled, watched tv, I've read a lot (A LOT), I've baked, read, knitted, crocheted, and chilled a lot more.  I've had time to think.  No, I've *made* time to think.  I've written my new Bullet Journal up for the start of the year, and not started a new Journal to do it, making me feel overwhelmingly smug about saving money and all that jazz.  I've coloured in my Level Ten life graph and designed my goals to move me on.  I've not made resolutions, because how silly and 1980's are they?


Here's a question.

No, really, there's an actual question.

Why do we choose New Year's Day to start our new us? (us's? us')  Take this New Years for example.

We had a great afternoon chilling out, and then driving for a bit, and then a lovely evening with lovely friends, that morphed into a late but good night's sleep, the cooking of about 50 bacon sandwiches this morning to feed the assembled masses, and then a drive to somewhere to drop T off, and then driving back to ours.

Over the course of today I have not written anything until now (I'm part of the 365 writing group), I have not drunk any green tea, not done any Yoga with (or without) Adrienne, not done my morning pages, not done any Bible study, not done anything I said I was going to do.  Yes, this counts towards my word goal for the day, but that's not the point.  Or maybe it's part of the point.  Anyway.

Why do we choose a day to start when everything is going to be complicated?   Does this mean that I'm a failure with a naked tracker before we even start the year properly?

I'll tell you what I think - yes I will, it's my blog.

I think that it's ok.  That's not just me justifying my own rubbishness, it's me saying "Give yourself a break lady, it's been a busy day."  It doesn't mean I'm not going to try.  It means I'm going to forgive myself if I don't get it right.

My word for the year (because in some things I am in with the cool kids!) is Less.

Less as in, Less is more.

I've a list in my Bullet Journal of the things I'm doing less, but today I will expound upon one.

Less picking on myself means more supporting myself, more positive attitude, more getting things done.

Now, as I've been told before, I can be a bit of a Pollyanna.  I have been told that I am the kind of person for whom it is irrelevant whether the glass is half full or half empty, I am just happy that I have a cup and it is a beautiful cup.  This is true, and I know it irritates some people who don't understand.  I know that some people do understand, and they know why I am the way I am and that, for me, this is the light after the darkness and I have to choose the light.


How does that relate to less?

Less picking on myself, means that when I mess up, it's ok.  The BC is 13 now, heading to 14.  He needs me in different ways now.  I have time to not be perfect - to not be Mary-f**king Poppins - to work less hard on being the solid, always there, always putting him first, parent he needed me to be after Rich died, and take time for me, whilst being the parent he needs me to be now.

I have time to knit and crochet and all that, and to write. I haven't written properly for years, and that's where my focus is going.  Maybe I'll get nowhere, but at least I'll have tried.  Rich and Jack both believe in my writing, and that's enough for me.

Less telling myself I didn't do it today, so I've permanently messed up.  Less of that.  More of "You know what, you didn't do it because this and this and that happened.  So do it tomorrow.  Do it now if you have time, but if not, do it tomorrow."

So there we go.  No new me, same old me in fact, that wrote a massive list and didn't complete it all - but who doesn't care any more!