Things I'm Loving Today:

1: The album Sigh No More by Mumford & Sons -- it is quirky, kicky and fun

2: Chocolate Peppermint Stick Luna bars -- they are so delicious. I have one every day as my afternoon snack

3: 21 by Adele -- near perfection

4: Audiobooks -- every once in a while, I just want someone to read to me

5: The fireplace in my bedroom -- there are perks to living in your parents' basement...


Everything is Okay

Yes, it has been almost exactly 2 months since I posted something, and that's okay. I'm also going to talk about resolutions on this, the 18th of January, and the month is half over. But, remember from my last post that I said I had some emotional purging to do? It took longer than anticipated. Not just the purging part, but the refueling part. So, here we are. I have emerged, finally, fully, from a dark place.** I feel vulnerable and slightly thin-skinned; wobbly and new. I have a secret, though (one I just remembered myself): underneath that thin skin is steel. I'm vulnerable and wobbly while I work on remembering that it's there, but I'm strong. I am. And I'm not going to feel bad about trumpeting my own horn. I'm strong, and I'm going to be okay.

With this newly rediscovered strength comes determination. Determination to make sure that I'm okay. I've given myself permission, and I've made plans. Most people call these plans "resolutions," but since I have been staunchly anti-resolution for the last decade or so, I'm calling mine "me-solutions." For me, it's not about writing down what I'm going to do every day, or not do every day, or "this year I'm going to..." or "by the end of the year, I'll have..." Because guess what? I'm not concerned about the year. I'm not concerned about "I must do this" or "I must not do that." I'm concerned about being okay; I'm concerned about me: knowing who I am, being happy with that, and finding a balance for my life. If it takes me longer than this year, fine. I refuse to beat myself up when on January 1, 2012, I'm still working on me. 'Cause I'm still gonna be working on me. And that's okay. 

Thus, my me-solutions:

1) Budget. I have one. And it works, mostly. However, I have a tendency towards retail therapy, which can play serious hell with a budget. So, a firm goal for a certain amount in my savings account by the end of the year (some goals require a time frame), and a set plan --already implemented-- for getting it there. A more strict plan, which will restrict my retail therapy-ing. 

2) Food. I have a weird relationship to food. I'm going to figure it out. I will learn to see food as fuel for my body and mind, rather than as the emotional crutch I've been looking for. I also have a plan for this, newly implemented. I think it will work.

3) Balance. I need some. My life has become so work heavy that sometimes I forgot I have a life outside of it. This is the biggy, folks. I'm going to gain a greater work-life balance. (I also have this sneaking suspicion that if I can get this figured out, the retail therapy won't figure so heavily, nor will eating my feelings....) I have a plan for this, too. Several plans, really, to factor in all parts of my life. I will still be working. That isn't going anywhere, and I haven't figured out how to leave it in my office when I leave. I'm praying that these other things will help. I have made time for more communication with God. I'll continue to fulfill my calling in the best way I can. I'll spend as much time with my family as I can. I'll still snuggle with Daisy at every opportunity. I have agreed to tutor a neighborhood kid in reading. I will continue to make time for reading for pleasure. I have found some old crafts I was working on, and started again. I have figured out an exercise schedule. I'll continue singing in my small choir. I will start taking singing lessons again, for the first time since high school, this Thursday. I am terrified and ecstatic. I feel good, friends.

I like my plan. I see balance in it. I see this: "May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself." --Neil Gaiman  

God bless all of you in this coming year. 

**Thank you, from my soul, to my family and friends who have stood by me while I wallowed in that dark place, and for your help in emerging. Thank you for loving me.