Reflections and Resolutions

It's 2015...almost and, like everyone else, I'm looking forward and looking back and trying to take stock. We've got a little tradition of writing small notes and dates on the corks of celebratory bottles of beer and wine throughout the year, and on one evening before the new year arrives, we concoct a festive beverage, dump all those corks out on the bar, and read them out to each other. It's something we saw somewhere a few years back, and it's fun.

2014 was a year of major change and new beginnings for us. After almost two years of near constant transitions and a leap of faith that took us across two states, we now feel our feet firmly planted on the ground in a place we love. It's kind of amazing how new places can steal your heart. Could be the morning mist drifting down mountains, the smell of the mud and grass, the waddle of a chubby porcupine out back, the discovery of hummingbird moths, the warmth of a sunbaked porch swing, or the dappled shade offered up by a certain tree. Doesn't matter. There's just a moment when the flow of incessant racing thought stops for a split second and your senses take over. It's intense. You feel deeply alive, and that's it. You're in love with that place and that feeling.

This is not to say there aren't days when the suck of mud on your boots or that inch of ice on your car doesn't drain your being to the core and make you want to stay inside in flannel pajamas drinking adult beverages. That happens too. Only somehow even that's more okay in the place you love. Day after day, the place you love just IS. You come to accept the mud and ice as part of the package. You buck up and grow to wear it as a badge of belonging- the kind of stuff you can laugh and bitch about with the old timers at the coffee shop (once they get over your New York transplantiness and your ridiculous Wellies).

 

Just being in the place sets the tone. My morning coffee tastes better as I peer out the kitchen windows at the giant pines in the backyard. Their trunks are gnarled and swirly with rough bark fallen away in spots and yet, they're entirely grand. I often wonder about all they've weathered over the years, and I feel a little more fortified just for knowing them (full disclosure: also often pray they don't come crashing down on our house). During moments like this, a place reaches out to you with all your weathering and crooked parts and gives some sort of celestial bear hug. It's so damn reassuring. It puts you more at ease with the flow of life, makes you sincerely happier, and maybe even lends you greater clarity. Let's hope!

So enough reflecting, on to 2015 resolutions. I'm skipping the dead-end lofty goals that are destined to become new year roadkill after a couple of weeks (days?), and focusing on the stuff I feel ready to stick with. Committing to the list this year means it's time to part ways with the daily social media fix.  It's going to require self discipline for sure. I'm a bit sad already as I know we risk losing touch again with many folks we enjoy. And we'll miss the wonderful photos, the witty commentaries, the jokes, the recommendations, and the convenient news and articles, but when I'm really honest, too often I spend too much time just surfing around without much true joy, connection, or meaning. So, the plan is to spend more of that time in the three dimensional world admiring trees, reading books, gardening, making stuff, taking walks, cooking, writing, taking photos, watching the kids grow up, having celebratory beverages, and enjoying family and friends face to face.

We'll be sharing from time to time on this blog, or you can always reach us by email or phone. I do hope many of you will connect with us once in a while and let us know how you are or come here, stay, and share the latest. Wishing you all a wonderful new year and more time with the ones you love in the places that inspire you. All the best in 2015!