I am getting to know 2013 very slowly. The path ahead is unclear. I don’t see the doors or the windows or even the cracks. I am not just sprinting in to it with abandon.
In 2012 I: lost 50 pounds (oh yes, I did); made great strides toward my masters degree which I will finish in May; chaired a local government commission; nursed my dad for a couple of months after his traffic accident (moving half way across the country to manage that); taught summer school and subbed during the school year; and travelled an insane amount. I am preparing myself for SOMETHING. A piece of me would really like to know what that SOMETHING is.
But another piece of me is cautious about the what the future brings. The anniversary of my mother’s death is this week. My daughter will be dead four years in February. I have no illusions. I know beyond anyone’s telling of it that this new year is as likely to bring heart wrenching challenge as it is to offer life-affirming opportunity.
The New Year, despite my ritual of welcoming it from the warmth of flannel sheets and comfortable PJs, offers neither security nor control.
So the best I can muster is cautious optimism. Optimism because I have worked really hard to remain open to new opportunities and all of the good that the world offers everyday. But caution seems like a reasonable approach when the path ahead can best be described as murky.
