Stats, word of the year review and preview, feelings, plans…. my blog post notes on what the include, the standard stuff of a year end post but somehow the words seem to be evading me.
Somewhere, in this rambling old house, is a notebook with the rest of Charlotte’s story hand written in it. I wanted to be inspired to do the last 3 sections of it but never found the book. I also had another character arise from insomnia with many details flushed out. She’s still inside my head. Which I guess means on the inspiration level that ranks as a fail.
I’ve struggled since February, with a new to me, back issue of nerve pain. It’s made loads of things difficult and required a lot of TLC, meds, ice, massage, physio and acupuncture to be thrown at it. So I’ve felt like I’ve been uninspired in the fitness category and have really missed a lot of my usual activities. I’m also a stress eater and so have packed on pounds. Which feels like it undid all the good the year before had done when I was lifting weights, biking and walking loads. So now it’s back, slowly and carefully, to square one. It is, for 62, a truly minor line item. I’m still basically healthy as a horse and recognize how fortunate that makes me. So not a win for sure but on the way I hope.
There have been wins in the inspiration column but damned if I can think what they are. Which is why I guess the words are escaping me.
I mean I’ve written a lot of words this last year. 101 blog posts on this site, 365 on the daily photo site, a few in the travel/camper one and some exciting ones over at the original 1918 Eaton’s Eager site. So I would put that in the inspired column. There were some tough heavy posts about Indigenous matters, a few about mental health (as always) and a lot of #Sundaystills challenges. A few reflections on retirement, life in general and aging.
One never knows what blog post will gather the most interest and none of these top 12 are anywhere close to the reader numbers on older posts. But none the less as I read and review these ones, I recognize that my writing is honest, from the heart and occasionally funny. But that the titles mean nothing or my memory is bad…as I always have to review the post to remember what the title meant.
Overall it amounted to a lot of regular readers hunkering down with my words, something I am so grateful for. And, just perhaps, someone will feel inspired by something I wrote. As always the comments make my day. It’s the connection that I seek with my words. The sense that my words are heard and understood. So thanks.
Words. For over a decade I’ve done a word of the year. Some I’ve repeated twice to get a “handle” on them. Words such as disengage and balance. Adult children living at home caused me to use the first one a couple of times as I found that a huge challenge. They were boomerang children and it seemed to occur regularly that I would have to draw a deep breath and step back. Then I tried balance and discovered that, once committed to a thing or a cause or even a person, there is no half way clause in my personality. Took a while to learn that but now I accept that sometimes I go all in and once “it’s” completed I have to re-balance. Walks, reading, writing, creative time, better sleeping and eating habits. Which really rolls into self care. Not my strongest habit but one that I am now recognizing needs to be at the forefront of more decisions. I learnt a lot a few years ago after a very difficult work situation and blogged it here at Resiliency. Things I really wish I had sought out earlier than my final chapter of 38 years in the Operating Room.
I’ve been super blessed that each year my card making friend creates a unique one of a kind card for my kitchen ledge that features the word and it’s meaning. I’ve saved each one and put it into my attic creative space.
Which should technically bring me to this year’s word and the conclusion of this blog post. But… things transpire and time clicks on by and here the word and the post sit in limbo. The link for #Sundaystills by Terri over at https://secondwindleisure.com won’t be valid if I can’t find inspiration one more time.
Around me there are signs, songs, poetry, posts and thoughts. So it seems to flit around me but I’m not sure and I’m not sure why I’m not sure. Clear as mud hey.
A bit of a meandering thought here. We are prone to watching romantic comedies. Sandra Bullock stared as an FBI agent undercover at the Miss USA pageant. All the contestants were asked a question and their standard answer was “world peace”. She refused to give that answer but then in the end tacked on it on as an afterthought. It was like too “pat” of a concept, too big and too unlikely to happen.
That’s sort of how hope and light feel. Like they are shifty creatures, not ready to be used as a standard pat answer. Hard to tackle and grasp as a here is my WOTY and how I intend to live
through it by it. See how slippery it is. I mean we all turn on the light but are we lit from inside? Does hope spring from the light or does it grow in the darkness? Does the hope come from a low glowing light?
7 days and
17/1819 edits to the post. Long overdue. People are booking things into February now and New Year’s already seems about 2 months ago. The world, at many levels, feels full of doom and gloom and oh let’s not forget Covid.
So let’s hope. On many levels. Little hopes and big hopes.