A Symmetrical New Year
December is a month of excessiveness; It is like a cruise ship named Mania offering every delight at your fingertips in a neat little time frame. At the end, the passengers are tired, broke, and bloated. January offers renewal.
I love picking out an engagement calendar at the new year. To me, it's blank pages symbolize hope. I place the old and new calendars side by side and go through each month, transposing important dates such as birthdays and anniversaries into the new one. With the turning of each month, I reflect on all the notes jotted down in the old one; Orthodontist appointments, writer's group meetings, soccer practices, bunco, and volunteering, were standard entries. For a few months, a friend whose husband was deployed and I had a standing "Girls Night In" every Monday to watch a favorite television show. That had slipped my mind. I saw where my in-laws had come to visit and stayed for two weeks. Had it really been that long? Then there were the dates when the packers and movers came. Post moving, there were the interview appointments, the football games where my husband teaches, more orthodontist appointments and soccer practices. Old calendars are like journals. I can't bring myself to throw them away.
After the calendar ritual, I wonder what the new year will hold. I wonder for days, weeks. I wonder until things actually do happen.
But before the avalanche of activity hits, while I still have a free moment to visualize how I want the year to shape up, let me lay it out. I want symmetry. I want a year where the social, emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual slices of me are balanced. I long for meaningful friendships with fun-loving people where we live now. I'd like to carve out more time for writing and exercise five times a week. I want to be a nicer mom. I want to lose a few pounds. Unfortunately that means being disciplined and that's just too hard most of the time. December encouraged reckless abandon of proper nutrition, exercise, bedtime, spending, and schedule. I have a feeling January's going to kick my butt.
I love picking out an engagement calendar at the new year. To me, it's blank pages symbolize hope. I place the old and new calendars side by side and go through each month, transposing important dates such as birthdays and anniversaries into the new one. With the turning of each month, I reflect on all the notes jotted down in the old one; Orthodontist appointments, writer's group meetings, soccer practices, bunco, and volunteering, were standard entries. For a few months, a friend whose husband was deployed and I had a standing "Girls Night In" every Monday to watch a favorite television show. That had slipped my mind. I saw where my in-laws had come to visit and stayed for two weeks. Had it really been that long? Then there were the dates when the packers and movers came. Post moving, there were the interview appointments, the football games where my husband teaches, more orthodontist appointments and soccer practices. Old calendars are like journals. I can't bring myself to throw them away.
After the calendar ritual, I wonder what the new year will hold. I wonder for days, weeks. I wonder until things actually do happen.
But before the avalanche of activity hits, while I still have a free moment to visualize how I want the year to shape up, let me lay it out. I want symmetry. I want a year where the social, emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual slices of me are balanced. I long for meaningful friendships with fun-loving people where we live now. I'd like to carve out more time for writing and exercise five times a week. I want to be a nicer mom. I want to lose a few pounds. Unfortunately that means being disciplined and that's just too hard most of the time. December encouraged reckless abandon of proper nutrition, exercise, bedtime, spending, and schedule. I have a feeling January's going to kick my butt.
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