Today is the first day since “The Holidays” that I have been home alone. I have a nice fire burning, and I’ve been catching up on some reading (“The Sun” mainly–have I mentioned how much I love that magazine?). I am glad to be where I am, but I am feeling as flaky and disconnected as the snow that is floating, falling, floundering outside. No place to be, but in such a hurry to get there. Bumping into other flakes and heading down, down, down–after occasional skips and drafts to the left or right–to land on some surface, somewhere, just anywhere.
And I, too, need to be grounded. Somewhere, but not just anywhere. I don’t really feel disposed to making resolutions this year. However, some planning is inevitable if anything is to happen at all, and I do have plans: to renew my teaching certificate, to buy a spinning wheel, to keep moving, to keep reading, to keep knitting, to keep writing, to look for the good in those things and people I already have in my life, and to stay open to new opportunities. I guess those will do. As well as the pavement or the shrubs or the lawn chairs on which the snow is landing. These surfaces will keep me in place for a time.
Maybe that’s what goals are for–keeping us in place, holding us together, grounding us in time. So for now I am here on the couch in front of the fire and watching the snow fall.
Happy New Year.