I have been craving sweets. Pecan pie, sweet muffins, and creamy mango ice cream. I wish I could have champagne. Artist friends are encouraging me to take the leap into…um…that would be food writing. Literary goulash. Poetic pie. A bowl of sautéed, chewy sentence structure. I’m told that there is magic in it.
First resolution: hold on to the magic in life.
After a horrendous summer that became a worse fall, I need an abracadabra on my view of resolutions. Gone are the weight loss aspirations; the obsession with changing my diet. I’m grateful for having an appetite again. Into the cosmic trash goes a daily commute made bearable by books and my iPod. A pox on those sorry promises to keep my apartment showroom spotless–anyone who knows me knows that promise could never be kept.
Second resolution: Make resolutions easy. Make ‘em realistic. Make ‘em something I really care about, that way they’ll stick.
I was thrilled on New Year’s Day to find that I had taken yet another step on my path to healing. I cooked dinner. My hands worked. Vegetarian Hoppin’ John. Cornbread. Greens. Rice. But there’s something I need to remember.
Third resolution: I’m still healing. Sitting is a good way to chop vegetables.
There are some things I know I’ll be doing for the rest of my life. Eating. Cooking. Singing. Laughing. Loving.
Fourth resolution: These are the things I must write about.
Over the past few months, some people have dropped from my world and others have become closer. It’s so nourishing to know who your friends are. Like a warm pudding. Comforting. Sweet. Sticks to the ribs.
Fifth resolution: Being grounded about how I spend my time and who I spend time with.
Easy enough. Simple. Like magic.
May your resolutions be nourishing, easy, and real.