The shortest day is over, and the year turns. I am already three weeks into my new year. I like this way of counting it. No fireworks, no countdown, no midnight stroke; just easing into the long nights, letting time pass, thinking, and watching, and listening. This works.
2014 is going to be MY YEAR because… I’m going to go bravely on, to walk with an open mind and an open heart into the new life that is stretching before me, and reach out and claim everything that is waiting for me.
In 2014, I am going to do… my very best to find an agent and a publisher for the novel that is so very nearly finished. I am going to proceed in my new job with enthusiasm and integrity, and with the joyful intention of moving on sooner or later.
In 2014, I am going to feel… scared, and exhilarated, and eventually, I hope, settled.
In 2014, I am not going to… forget everything that I have learned in 2013 about who I am and how I work. I am not going to pretend that I don’t feel what I am feeling. I am not going to be cruel to myself.
In December 2014, I am going to look back and say… thank you.
Looking back at last year, I am impressed by how right I got it. I do know where I’m going next; I’m already half-way there. The novel is all but done (at least in terms of words on paper; it still needs at least two savage edits). I have been scared, and I haven’t shut myself off.
And yes: that was a good year; it all makes sense now.