Sunday, 11 January 2015
Regardless of how the twelve months preceding it went, I always look forward to a new year. Maybe it's because I'm an eternal optimist, but I really appreciate the chance to take stock of how life is travelling and identify any areas which could use some attention and the opportunity to make new goals and seek out my desires. So I've been mulling everything over for a week or two now, with my note pad out and eager pen at the ready but the thing is, I'm stalling. My mind has been reeling and it seems like I've been stuck in some kind of limbo, a deer caught in the headlights and unable to step forward, unsure of my direction and there's something that has felt a lot like anxiety gnawing in the pit of my stomach.
There's no shortage of things I want to do and improve on, places I want to see, new experiences I want to try and goals I'd like to achieve. The thing is that I've not quite yet emerged from the fog that comes with the all consuming nature of a caring for a baby in her first year of life. A time when in spite of everything you've just gained, it is inevitable to feel to some extent that you might have lost something of yourself for a while along the way. To be oh so tired and perhaps momentarily a little unsteady about who you are beyond all of the mothering and the beautiful chaos of raising a family. I've just felt overwhelmed and sort of paralysed by all the possibilities, options and perceived pressures. There's so much I think I should be doing or aiming for that I don't even know where to start or what should be coming out top of the list.
But enough. I realised a day ago that I needed to be kinder to myself. To slowly start to find my way back to myself and the things that matter to me, shaking off any of the ugliness of comparison along the way. And so instead of a list of frantic goals, I have just a word for the year ahead...breathe. To stop and take it all in, soak up everything happening right here and now- the beautiful, the crazy and the mundane. To just be. During these sweetest of years when I am needed so much by my children, my time to forge my own dreams and plans is limited but it's not impossible. It means carving out little opportunities to be creative again and do what comes naturally to me, which will hopefully involve sitting down and writing here more often. So in 2015 I will do my utmost to concentrate on enjoying the here and now instead of tying myself up in knots about the future and how I can make everything happen. And actually, I have a feeling that everything will fall into place. It usually does. Thank you optimism, for always shining through.
Picture taken by Curt, on a walk at my parents farm on our recent trip back to England for Christmas.