It’s the first of the year; the time when many folks are feverishly preparing a list of resolutions – near as I can figure – so they can feel really bad about not having done any of them come April. I, for one, am taking a stand against resolutions and, in their place, substituting gentle reminders to myself. A brief sampling of my 2013 list:
- Reminder #1: When you find a gorgeous, comfortable pair of shoes in Paris (or anywhere, really) that comes in two colors: buy them both. Even if it seems extremely foolhardy. That way you won’t spend the better part of the next four months scouring the interwebs daily, hopelessly searching for a pair in your size.
- Reminder #2: You are not your job title. Whether it makes you feel big and tall, or rather more like a speck of dirt. You are the person as seen through the eyes of those who love you most. Genuine, flawed, lovely and uniquely you.
- Reminder #3: Try your best to get to Barre class at Centerspace on Monday nights. Driving around with your workout clothes in the trunk of the car does not constitute “trying your best”; though, arguably, it’s better than nothing.
- Reminders #4, #5, #6, #7, #8: Take some chances. Do what you can. Be in the moment whenever possible. Play. Regret nothing.
Of course, reminders are really only necessary because we tend to forget stuff. Out of sight, out of mind and all that. So, I intend to pick out a lovely new journal in which to jot things down.