This crazy thing keeps happening, one minute I look at the calendar and it’s just September. Now I look out my window (that is broken and doesn’t close), and feel the bitter chill of the November night. My dedication to write weekly again fell to the wayside as everything else, including Kim Kardashians two part wedding special, took precedence. But it’s November first today and I’m initiating my new years resolution two months early. How’s that for ambition?
Every fall I set goals for myself, little reminders of what I want to accomplish in the day to day. Rather pessimistically I lose steam sometime in the middle of October and try and cram them back onto my to-do list before the holidays, which ends up failing because I’d rather sit home eating pumpkin pie and listening to baby it’s cold outside on repeat. I’m confident this year will be especially bad as I’ve already begun the Christmas playlist and my room is merrily adorned with two full strands of festive holiday lights — the perfect recipe for an afternoon nap. And just when I see myself going down the path of no return, I find myself here, on my blog, talking to no one in particular about the demise of my goals. But it’s these moments here where I find myself back on track a bit firmer in my convictions to do what I set out to do.
After a rather chaotic and wonderful year indulging in my wanderlust and trotting the globe, I’ve been slowed down by my own self. The long story short is that in early August instead of going on a planned road trip in South Africa I landed in the hospital for five days with pancreatitis. No one is quite sure why I got it but nonetheless it happened. To keep the pity party going a few more lines, after planning for a trip to Kenya and Kilimanjaro in December I was told that that was not in the cards this year. Neither was drinking. Or traveling to any country with insufficient medical care. So here I am, staring at my list of ‘to-dos’ which include going to Kenya, trekking in the himalayas, and taking a tour of the Sam Adams brewery. I realize a few things are going to be put on hold, but then at the very bottom of this very long list it says four words that put it all in to place: less human. more being. I’m so caught up in what I cannot do, possessed by this sadness that really isn’t so bad. Finally, after rambling for a bit, I have decidedly kicked out the crazies in my own head, and officially have ended the pity party.
Here is my open list of goals and my resolutions that I’m going to write about over the next six months. Just six months because really, come May, come rain or shine, I’m going to be healed, hopefully with some better cooking skills and a few other interesting things in my repertoire.
It’s a work in progress but for now here is the short list:
- Do a headstand in yoga.
- Cook my way through a cookbook. (Which will hopefully and ambitiously include a tur-duck-in).
- Read books that should be read. Starting with a reread of The Great Gatsby.
- Go to Mardi Gras.
- Drive from San Francisco to Vancouver.
- Take a boxing class.
- Master the perfect Sunday brunch.
- Run the Boston marathon.
- Volunteer at the animal shelter in Boston.
So join me, give me recipes, road trips to take, books that should be read, places that should be seen, and music that should be heard. I’m hoping to write when inspired about something new, something discovered, and in the process plan to become a more devoted yogi, a better cook, a master of French toast, and a girl with a mean right hook.