2014 is here and without all the fanfare, resolutions and promises made in years past. I wonder why that is? Could it be that I’ve been disappointed so many times that I didn’t want to set myself up for failure? Possibly. Or maybe I’m not sure what my ‘resolution’ should be. Whatever the reason, it is January 18, almost 3 weeks into a new year’s journey, and I’m floundering.
I could start by looking at all the wonderful things I do have; a beautiful family, three wonderful grandchildren, a good job, great friends and a nice home. That would be enough for most people, but I’m getting itchy, I want more…but I don’t know what. Which is probably the reason no resolutions were scratched into one of the many notebooks I have scattered about the apartment.
I love photography…but my photos sit in my camera until I need one. I love to write essays…but my ideas have taken a hiatus. I love poetry…but can’t seem to get inspired…I love working with my hands; sewing & crafting….but I’ve not stuck with one idea…I would love to learn painting, sketching, watercolor…but have not signed up for a class. I fear my creative edge will soon be lost….yet I do nothing. And as the sun sets on each day of this finite life, I wonder how long it will be before I get my moxie back.