*gratitude

collage by: chasing after dear

I used to make resolutions. This year I just can't seem to find the courage or the energy to make a list of things that will be forgotten by Valentine's Day. But one thing that I do every year, that does stay with me (and at times eerily so) is chose a word. A mantra, if you will...

Its about choosing something to aspire to or to learn about or to experience. I pick a word that seems to be everywhere, one with deep meaning for me at that time in my life. This year, I have chosen (drum roll please): Gratitude. Being happy and joyus in the smallest of things, and choosing to carry that with me and be light instead of taking on the weight of negativity.

I have been feeling overwhelmed by the past of late. My current beside read has identified what I am feeling as grieving. Nice thought to go into a new year with, lemme tell ya. The definition being: anytime that you feel loss (whether real or perceived) you go through a grieving period. The longer you wait before allowing that to happen, the longer and bigger the process. With that word of warning I have chosen to allow it now, because I don't know what will happen if it gets any bigger...

I took a look at some of my old journals the other day. I was looking back to see how much I had grown, spirituality, emotionally from then to now. But all I managed to do was to walk away shaking my head and needing an appointment for an hour on a couch!
My journals have been my spilling over place, the place that I dumped all of the garbage of my mind so that I could clear some space out for normal functioning. The safe haven for my confusion and anger - which is healthier than letting it boil and fester... eewww. But all that laves me with is a residue of anger and resentment and spite... It makes all of life taste like I have just eaten a zinc losenge... it all tastes like ten-penny nails.

So this year I am following Patti Digh's advice, I will write what I want to remember... and I want to remember all the glorious, wondrous things about my life.

It's no wonder that I feel crippled by my past, when all I have left of it is a detailed record of every disaster, large or small that I have ever encountered! Recounting crippling details is no longer my objective... I am writing the history that I want to read. Selective memory in the best possible way. All the juicy, sticky, messy, laugh til you fall down stuff that life is made of. Living life like eating a peach... That's what I want to find the next time I am feeling a bit nostalgic.

Heres to a life of peaches and cream.