I’ve always maintained that January 1 was a senseless date to make resolutions. Most people are coming off a hectic holiday season and need to settle back into their normal lives in order to accurately judge what they want to change. It’s also smack-dab in the middle of a cold, dark season for most of us — and all you want to do is cozy up at home and sleep. Who wants to be all yang-ish and “Forward, march!” when you feel like that? You’re just setting yourself up for failure. But a few weeks into 2016, and I’m ready
It’s finally happening: by the end of this month, I’ll be in a new home. I’ll have packed up my cozy little one-bedroom, thrown out or given away old clothes, books and other possessions and carted everything to a new duplex closer to downtown. It’s all very exciting, coinciding with big changes in my life: the shedding of an old home coincides with expansions of heart and soul and love, all that juicy good stuff. And at the same time: oy vey, so much overwhelming emotion at the same time! On the day I signed the lease, I remember feeling
I love pictures of bedside tables — I think there’s something so tender and intimate about seeing what people sleep in close proximity to. I’m not a religious person, now or ever in the past. And though I’ve always had a sense of something larger, grand and immense out there, I’m loathe to call myself spiritual since I don’t have a daily “practice” of anything. (Except maybe hygiene.) But my bedside table has always functioned as a kind of unintentional altar, carving out space for what I treasure and cherish — things I find comforting and remind me of the
It’s been a loooong winter, and while I’m usually a fan of snow and doing wintry things, I have to admit that snow near the end of March is kind of a bummer. But I suppose it’s made me appreciate my home a bit more since I’ve had to spend more time in it, as well as appreciated the effort that I’ve put in it to make it cozy and homey since I moved in August.