Thursday, January 3, 2013

A New Year

I have a quiet moment, alone, perhaps the first since Norah was born. She is sleeping and I expect Robin to pull in to the lane way any moment with the rest of the gang, home from an overnight stay with Nanny and Papa.

I quickly tidied the kids' rooms, sorted through their drawers and cleaned out the stuff they've outgrown, threw some laundry in the washer, threw some wood in the furnace, washed the dishes, and tidied up the kitchen table.

Then I sat down with my journal. I love to write about my aspirations for the coming year on January 1st every year, but didn't manage it this year. I like to look back at last year's resolutions. Usually, I giggle at the fact that last year's were the same as this year's, and muse over the knowledge that perhaps I'm already as "me" as I can get. My weight doesn't change, nor do my exercise habits, eating habits, or strengths. 

Last year, I wrote that I would seek true connection, especially with myself. Other goals for 2012 included:

  • saying know when I was tired, and sometimes letting others down to honour my body's need for rest
  • connecting with my children; to pay closer attention to their needs and stages of development
  • to simplify our diet
  • to order/buy food in bulk
  • to allow my tastes to evolve so that I don't feel the need to include meat/dairy/gluten in meals
  • to bravely try things that intimidate me like growing my own food and building a root cellar
  • to value our money more, to spend it wisely on needs rather than wants
  • to connect with my husband and to improve my skills of expressing needs, listening compassionately, and sharing myself
  • clean, simple home
  • clean, simple food
  • peaceful hearts

And yesterday, with perhaps the first quiet moment we shared together since Norah's birth, Robin and I lay on our bed together, just talking in the winter sun that drenched us, taking time to admire the baby we created together, and to share our dreams for our future.

The above list about summed it all up. Each day, we get a little bit closer to living our lives more creatively, more courageously, and more simply. It takes time and it's so easy to get swept up in the cycle of get up-get ready for work/school-get home-eat-clean up-make lunches-bedtime routine-sleep and repeat. 

We dream things that seem impossible or irrational: homeschooling our children and not feeling so tied to the money we owe for our home/cars/schooling/other debts. It seems  insurmountable, to get from the life you're living to the life you dream of.

But what is it to be human, if not to continue striving to be better, to live better, and especially, to love better? I liked a quote I saw on Facebook the other day: "Today is the first page of a 365 page book"...

So, I'm three pages in now, and always, always hopeful that this year will bring about some of the beautiful change I'm dreaming of.



  1. "It seems insurmountable, to get from the life you're living to the life you dream of." So very true. I'm enjoying a few of my own to myself minutes for the first time today and am glad to spend a couple reading your words. We are in a similar position of wondering how to get to where we want to be from where we are now with debts and other obstacles standing in the way, but are continuing on and striving for something better right alongside you. I hope this year gets you one step closer to the life you dream of while you continue enjoying yours in its current state. Happy new year.

  2. Here is a quote I have borrowed from another blog that made me think of you, me and so many people with busy lives, who are trying to be appreciative in the moments when they can catch their breath!
    "No one longs for what he or she already has, and yet the accumulated insight of those wise about the spiritual life suggests that the reason so many of us cannot see the red X that marks the spot is because we are standing on it. The treasure we seek requires no lengthy expedition, no expensive equipment, no superior aptitude or special company. All we lack is the willingness to imagine that we already have everything we need. The only thing missing is our consent to be where we are.” ~Barbara Brown Taylor
    Lying on your bed in the sunshine, admiring your baby with Robin sounds like consent to me. Acceptance and consent. The rest will follow, bit by bit, day by day. Happy New Year to you! I look forward to being part of the remaining 360 pages. xo


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