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:
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.