little black journal

Seeing as how I succeeded in making good on almost all of my 2012 resolutions (damn you, Economist!), I’m doing the resolution thing again, hoping 2013 is another year of growth and fulfillment.

Sabbath more intentionally.  As much as I adore our quiet Sunday afternoons at home, I want more out of them.  More restoration.  More introspection.  More preparation for the busy week ahead.  I’m on board with Nance in her belief in the life-giving power of a true Sabbath.  I want to make sure that I’m resting with intention – not just holing up and zoning out.  This might still mean a hard-core nap, or an epic reading binge on the couch, but it also means turning everything off for a little while and asking Shane how I can pray for him.  It means opening my journal and processing my anxieties and joys as I put pen to paper.  Letting the quiet drown out the noise.

Be more involved in managing our money.  Shane has always been the finance guy in our house, paying the bills and managing our investments.  I’ve been A-OK with that – I completely trust him and am not that interested right now in knowing how our Roth IRAs are doing.  But after sitting down with him on Saturday and sorting through our 2012 purchases on mint.com, I’m seeing the value of setting a budget together, checking in regularly and really looking at where our money is going (and where we want it go).  Turns out I might have a weakness for shoes and Shane might have a weakness for expensive cocktails…  These things aren’t exactly surprises, and they aren’t exactly bad, but it’s important to understand how they add up.

Make art.  Regularly.  2012 was kind of a creative wasteland.  I didn’t draw or paint much, I didn’t make it into the print studio even once.  And I missed it – it was disappointing and discouraging and draining to be so out of touch with my artistic self.  So I’m back on the horse this year – I have registered for a screen printing class to kick-start things and have the highest of hopes for a year full of inspiration and productivity.

Cook dinner at least four nights a week.  Last year we set out to try new restaurants; this year I’m setting out to cook new things.  I have joked about how often we eat cereal for dinner, but it’s actually not that funny – more evenings than I’d like to admit, Shane is tearing into the Puffins and I’m smearing an apple with peanut butter and telling myself that’s a legitimate source of protein.  The breakdown seems to be in the planning stages – if we have a menu, I absolutely don’t mind being in the kitchen and preparing a meal.  If we don’t have a plan, this happens:  -“What do you want for dinner?” -“I dunno.  What do you want?”  -“I dunno.  Raisin Bran with a side of Wheat Thins?”  Ahhhh!  This has got to stop.  Good news is, we’re currently on a roll – three straight nights of healthy homemade meals!  General Mills stock might plummet.

In addition to my traditional list of resolutions, my mom has encouraged me to enter this year with a theme in a mind – a word that will focus my mission and attitude for 2013.  I’ve thought about this a lot over the last few days – what do I want the bigger picture to look like, beyond my list of practicalities?  This has been a harder exercise than I imagined – probably because I wanted so badly to come up with something original and complex and deep, but kept circling back to something obvious and super-simple.  So I’m going to stop overthinking this and start dwelling on a message of hope.  God and I have gone round and round over this matter in the past couple of years.  I’ve prayed fervently for hope, he’s tried to give it to me, and then I’ve politely turned it away and locked up my heart, telling him thank you, but I changed my mind and would like peace, or forgiveness, or acceptance instead. Because hope is scary – it makes you vulnerable and open to all kinds of disappointment and hurt.  And it prompts you to challenge the status-quo – relationships could be richer, work could be more meaningful, big BIG things could possible if you shed that cloak of doubt and complacency.  So here’s to a grand 2013, full of hopes and dreams and all manners of bright and shining miracles.