Happy New Year! I haven’t made any grand resolutions for 2015. Not after last year’s. Because I still don’t have a packet of tissues in my bag. Or Wet Ones. Or stamps. And if you can’t manage those small things, well, there’s little point in trying to aim for anything bigger, right?
Be kind (and don’t watch E4).
No. I figure that keeping the five of us alive for another year will be enough for me. Seven, actually. If you count the cats.
I’m not against goals. But I have decided that I’m not a fan of pressure. Particularly the self-inflicted kind.
So this year, I’m going to be kind. Not just to others. But also to myself.
I’m also not going to drink. Eat chocolate. Or watch E4.
What are you waiting for?
The other thing I find about resolutions is that they can take you away from the present moment.
You’re so busy focusing on doing the thing you’ve challenged (tortured) yourself to achieve, you miss what’s actually happening. Right now.
This can be a downside of goals in general. A good friend of mine often says that her husband is always striving for the next thing. He says he will be happy when he’s achieved X. But the reality is that Y then comes along, he decides that will make him even happier and off he goes again.
At what point do you stop, become aware and realise that actually THIS is it. Right now? Your life. That your happiness currently lies in serving up fish fingers and peas? (Sorry.)
Erm. Perhaps, now?
(And also what a brilliant excuse to just sit on the sofa. And watch E4).
This moment will pass.
Lots of things last year helped me to see that it’s only what’s happening now that has any real meaning.
Not least of all, the people who lost their lives tragically and suddenly in accidents like the Glasgow Bin Lorry incident and the Air Asia crash.
But possibly the greatest influence has been The Boy with No Name. All six squishy months of him.
He has taught me that things change. Frequently and quickly. That nothing catastrophic actually comes from a bad night’s sleep (and anyway, tomorrow he may sleep better). That it doesn’t matter if I don’t function brilliantly (or even at all). That an extra sugar in my tea is sometimes enough to get me through.
And that I can eat as many Twirls as I damn well like.
Where do all the socks go?
These days I stumble through life in a bit of a blur. With dark circles, rather bad hair and odd (sometimes no) socks. Yet somehow I’m more aware of what’s happening right now than I ever have been.
And it’s not just because the future with three kids is sometimes too terrifying to contemplate.
Or because my cognitive abilities are so hammered by the monotony of motherhood, that I’m no longer able to form a thought. About anything.
But because this is where I need to be. Right now.
And, you know what? It’s enough. For now.
(As long as there are Twirls).