It’s the first day of the new year, and I’m moving away from a holiday of rest and relaxation toward a more structured routine for the weeks to come. That includes a return to regular blogging, as well as regular piano practice and regular exercise. These are not to be considered New Year’s resolutions; rather the word ‘regular’ means they are all things I try to do most days but took a vacation from for Christmas. Now it’s back to work.
My son Kevin sent me a poem yesterday that conveys exactly my thoughts on making resolutions. The author, Erica Reid, was new to me; but an online search revealed she is a “Colorado poet, editor, educator, and critic,” according to her bio on the Western Colorado University website.
What if a new year dawns & I don’t change?
Each January finds me as I was:
still moribund, still sensitive & strange.
I buy blank planners, scrub my house because
I crave the start a bright new year can bring—
but as I drain my last flute of champagne
I wait for change, & don’t feel anything.
Whatever I have been, I shall remain.
Somehow, the magic misses me. My friends
sign up for 5ks, vow to watch their weight,
or learn to knit. I’ll drink & overspend,
I’ll scarf the untouched French fries off their plate.
The world will count from ten, then kiss & cheer.
It’s me again. It’s yet another year.
Thanks to Kevin for sharing and to Erica for writing.
Tomorrow: Answers to questions readers have never asked.
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