I am not one for making new year resolutions. I mean – what do you actually get from making them? Other than a feeling of guilt when almost inevitably they fall by the wayside weeks or even days after the clock has struck 12.
After all nothing has changed from the hours before midnight to the ones after. It is simply time slipping from one year to another. If there are things you want to change about yourself or how you live your life, I’m all for that. But you are still the same person that you were the year before. The change in digits does not change you. Change has to be wanted. Has to be aimed for at a time which is right for you. Not put in motion because that is what you ‘should’ do at the beginning of a new year. Otherwise it becomes just words.
I suppose though there is something about the changing of years that turns the mind in this direction. Makes the heart consider whether you are content or if something is missing.
So it seemed like an apt time to shake the cobwebs off something I started last year. I started a ‘list for living’ (original post ~ the life in your years) after reading about Helen Fawkes, the BBC journalist who faced her cancer diagnosis with a list determined to make the most of the life that she had left. I all too often feel like I am not living my life enough, all too often feel the regret of wasting days that I fear will haunt me when my life draws to its end. Unless I do something to change the status quo. Yet I am scared and it all feels too much. And I do nothing, nothing changes.
I grasped the idea of a list to help me celebrate being alive, to live this life. To give me a direction, the courage to take small steps. It seemed my life raft in the all too often stormy sea of my mind. Until I abandoned it when the black dog came to visit for an extended stay and life became more about getting out of bed, getting through the day rather than living.
That tiny change from a 7 to an 8 at the end of last year bought more than a change of year for me. It bought a new city to call home and with it countless possibilities for me to seek those changes so desperately needed by the me that wants to stop being so small, so alone, so scared.
So I have dug out my list for living, given it a little polish and posted it here for the world to see ~~~ List for Living
It is a work in progress, like me, like my life. I will update it as I update. With new wishes, with the changes and achievements I create. Wish me luck folks…and tell my anxiety and depression to go and do one so I can actually go for it this time. Though maybe I need to do this because of them rather than despite them. They are after all part of me and it is me that I am doing this for.