What January means to me

This year, I’m going to make a resolution that sticks. 

Sound familiar?

Yup. Me too. I used to say that every January.  I used to line up all the things I needed to improve on, what I wasn’t happy with and set up a really depressing to do list of just how much my life should change. 

I’m sure you can sense my tone. I’m not a fan of New Year’s Resolutions.  You might ❤️ them and that’s great. 

For me, I always found them a way to focus on dissatisfaction rather than the amazing, the good, the perseverance and wonder of what I’ve experienced  over the last year. 

Do I have hopes and dreams? Yup. A Facebook fortune teller quiz recently told me I’d have abundance in 2017 and I’m down with that. (And we all know FB quizzes are the truth tellers of life.) 

What I do love about the new year is that it’s a chance. A chance to remember all the amazing things that I’ve experienced, good, bad and in between. A chance to catalog and organize what those mean to me. 

Our memories can be fleeting. As I get older, they fade easier. There is always those big, glossy memories that are picture perfect. But sometimes it’s those quiet, simple moments that make everything come into clear focus. 

The day I sat on our couch and watched Fixer Upper with my husband and son. 

The day one of my best friends and I hit the road in a road trip like we haven’t taken in twenty years. 

The moment watching my brother marry the love of his life but also that shared laughter at dinner afterward. 

Watching my son and his cousins play a video game together. 

Leaving a meeting at the new job with people I love working with and a job that challenges me and interests me every day. 

Rain. Family mornings. Quiet alone time after every one has gone to bed. Day long text threads with a friend of one upping funny memes. 

All of these moments are small, but also so big. These are the moments that make up my life. My focus. My drive. My choices. And January is a time when I try to remember them all, to lock them in the scrapbook in my head. It’s the month to be so very grateful for the life I have. 

I hope January is such a month for you. 

One Comment

  1. Jeannie Ruesch wrote her first story at the age of the six, prompting her to give up an illustrious, hours-long ambition of becoming a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader and declare that writing was her destiny.

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