The Dream Time

Some of you hit the ground running on January 1, stuck with all your plans, and are right now witnessing the sparkly fruition of all your New Year's resolutions in this very moment. 

The rest of us feel very happy for you.  Really!  We'll just celebrate you from a safe distance (inside the metaphorical or literal snowstorm) while we take another mournful glance at our calendars, feeling daunted and counting our new gray hairs. 

As I've said before, personally I no longer tolerate the heavy pressure around New Year's resolutions.  This is mostly because the only results I ever saw from that plan involved gallons of ice cream and hours of HGTV.  Expecting total clarity about the year to come while packing away the holiday decorations and nursing a hangover makes about as much sense as expecting 18-year-olds to correctly determine their career paths.  Culturally we do these things, but often these practices create stress instead of support.

What I do now, regarding New Year's resolutions, is wholeheartedly embrace January as my dream time. 

Dream time, you ask?  Yup.  Dream time.  January is the dark, comfy cave from which my hibernating dream kernels eventually emerge.  Given enough quiet time and space, my resolutions practically announce themselves!  February 1 is my real New Year's Day. 

So, if you've been wondering where January went and what happened to your resolve, please don't fret.  All is well.  You can always begin again!  In fact, you're completely welcome to join me in spirit on February 1 to declare intentions afresh.

Warmly,
Julie
P.S.  Welcome to all you newcomers!  It's marvelous to see you here.