A Letter to the New Year

Hello New Year,

Here I am, again. Grateful to be alive to see you. Struggling with the internal nagging thought of resolutions. But, here is the truth of it….

I will make no resolutions, for I set myself up for failure that way – and that is no way to approach you, this new year.

I will realize and accept that I come to this new year with everything that I carried (and maybe a few more pounds….) last year. There it is and there I am. Human, flawed, struggling, but still here. I still have the grief that I have been processing and feeling from all the losses as of late that also remind me of all the losses in my life. I still have the sadness. I still have the hopes and wishes and dreams. I still paint and I still write, although not as much writing as I would like to do. I still feel the loneliness that comes with living alone and aging, and yet I still also crave the solitude and quietness that allows me to listen to my soul.

I still procrastinate, still have not seriously begun de-cluttering, and still have a list of chores that I resist daily.

I am still afraid at times, in grief and sadness at times, joyful at times, and grateful always….for all of it (although some of it may be more pleasant to feel and experience, certainly).

I still acutely feel the pain of the earth….its creatures and plants and air that we have hurt so deeply.

I still feel the pain of this pandemic and all the suffering and fear and shock at what our world experience has become. I still feel the sadness and disgust at the politics and how we have moved away from basic human compassion and kindness with so much of the insane politicization of things that have nothing to do with politics.

And I also still see human kindness and compassion and striving to do better, to be better, to care for each other and for our planet. I see babies being born and they give me hope, although I worry about their future and the legacy that we are leaving them. And I still pray …. a lot.

And so here I am. No resolutions. Simply the desire and will to keep on going on, to keep living while this body is still capable of it. Still wanting to express myself to others with my words, with my paintings – to share what is inside me to anyone who may relate and thus perhaps feel a bit less alone. I am still among the living. I am still breathing. Still loving, which, after all, is the point of it all….Welcome, New Year. Let’s do this.