I have a confession. As much as I love the holidays - and I DO love them – I love the end of the holidays almost as much. Packing away all the trappings and tinsel, filling the fridge with healthy food after weeks of over-indulging and most of all thumbing through page after blank page in my calendar. They’ll gradually be filled up with birthdays and anniversaries, a dear friend’s wedding, special trips and everyday appointments. But today they are still wonderful, white and error-free.
I long ago gave up on making predictions. Life is full of surprises – some more wonderful than you imagined, some more heart-breaking and some that confoundingly manage to be both. But later today I will take a quiet moment to write out aspirations for this New Year. Some will be mundane (MUST get back to the gym!) and some will reflect the private hopes and wishes I have for myself and for my loved ones. I already know that by the end of the year I will have exceeded my expectations on some and been disappointed on others. But they’re a guide not a score card and the most important part is the beginning, those quiet moments as I centre myself at the dawn of a New Year.
So as I load the empty champagne glasses into the dishwasher, brush away the confetti and the little white slips of paper from last night’s fortune cookies, as I pack away the silly hats and noisemakers for another year, I will start as I mean to go on: making order out of disarray, reveling in the comfortable and familiar routine of the everyday, counting my blessings and celebrating the simple things: a hot cup of coffee, favourite music in the background and a new year with no mistakes.
Happy New Year.
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