hello, 2017

Two days ago, I stood waist-deep in the Hawaiian surf and braced against the push-pull of the ocean. I dug my toes in the sand and tightened through the core as stronger swells moved by and through me; I relaxed slightly when I detected the undertow had let up. Yet I remained vigilant against the natural force more powerful than me; 2016’s many surprises trained me well.

I contemplated my goals for the new year. Some I could count. Lose weight. Write more. Double the yoga hours I teach. Go on x number of dates. Save money. Volunteer. But many I couldn’t. Put the phone down. Listen better. Be more patient, thoughtful, present. Experiment. I grew agitated with this exercise. Should I set 17 goals? Or one for each month of the year? One quantifiable and one unquantifiable a quarter? A combination of work, family, creativity, travel?

A new swell of bigger waves moved in and I tried something. I didn’t grip so hard. Sure, the tide pulled me a little this way and pushed a little that way. That is life. I don’t want to constantly brace for the next big one. And I don’t want to make a super specific list of goals. Instead I’m recommitting to living an authentic life. When I focus on manifesting what makes me happy and healthy, I naturally achieve the named and unnamed goals embedded in body, mind and spirit.

If I can do that I will truly experience a happy new year.

Advertisements

old goals made new

The kids and I barely made it to midnight last night, leaving the warm house of dear friends before the ball dropped so we could get into our own pajamas and watch from the comfort of home.

“Okay, let’s go to bed now,” Jack said after the clock struck digital midnight.

“Where is the ball anyway?” Colin asked, eyes scanning images from Times Square.

I was all too happy to comply with the bedtime wish and as I tucked each boy in, I told them the same thing: I wish for us a new year filled with adventure, love and growth.

“Okay, me too,” Jack said, eyes drooping with the late hour.

“Yeah, I hope Jack hits his growth spurt,” Colin agreed as he rolled over. “I can’t wait for his voice to change.”

Adventure. Love. Growth.

Adventure. I’d like to take the boys some place that requires a passport. The Kerry Dark Sky Reserve? Safari? Greece? If going abroad doesn’t work out, there are adventures to be had domestically too. New York City awaits us in March. California and Maine always call. A big cousin reunion in Utah is long overdue. On the culinary side, maybe 2015 is the year I can get the kids to eat snails and frog legs. In the spirit of trying a new activity, I’d like to take them to the flying trapeze school for an afternoon.

Love. Love is tricky. How do I improve upon what I already have? I spent the last year feeling more present with my kids and doing the things that I love, both professionally and personally. I am fulfilled. But 2015 might be the year Jack has his first crush/girlfriend/heartbreak, and I’m going to have to figure out a way to help him through these angsty teen times without being interfering. Hopefully we make it through the year with him still wanting to hang out with me.

Growth. I have a long list. Defeat my fear of headstand. Add yoga teacher to my list of skills. Find jobs teaching yoga. Continue to write and get paid (more often) to do it. Go on a retreat, ideally writing and yoga themed. Listen more and talk less, but speak my truth when something is bothering me. I know I shouldn’t put learn a new language on the list because I’m setting myself up for failure but I’ve been feeling the draw to dust off my French books or pick up Spanish.

Some of these 2015 goals are repurposed from last year and some are intended to keep me on the path I’ve been traveling these last fifteen months. Less a set of resolutions and more a commitment to continue to take advantage of everything I hold in my hands and heart.

Happy New Year!