2011

At the risk of being, what? Fill in the blank. Here’s my end of the year reflections. It’s not the best of or worst of – I recommend the awesome lists compiled by the New Yorker for that. So again, at the risk of being ____? Here it is:

2011.

I started running barefoot. I stopped eating bread and pasta.

I began writing a journal, and a blog, and short stories.

I dug up dandelions and violets in the front yard. I got to talk to a lot of people. Sometimes I would just sit soaking up the sun. All the landscape trucks passing by would wave hello.

I’m working on balancing my chakras. It feels good.

I worry less about what people think of me. I worry more about how I feel about myself.

When I’m feeling sorry for myself I look around and find what I’m grateful for. That sounds like a cliché, I know. But it works.

I started seeing more light than dark.

I don’t vacuum up the spiders in the house. They’re useful.

I feed the birds.

I say hello to our fish in the pond whenever I go outside. “Hello Fishies!” The boys make endless fun of me for this. I love them nonetheless. The boys and the fish.

I walk the dogs pretty much every day. It makes them so happy. That makes me happy. Even in the rain.

Even in the rain.