All posts tagged: New Year

Begin Again | edge of evening

Begin again

And so, again we start at the beginning. Maybe we even start a little way back, looking for the point where we lost ourselves in the pre-Christmas rush. Trying to pick up the threads of what we were thinking, what we were doing, where we were heading. Each time I resolve to hold tighter to that thread, but I think now that losing it — or at least setting it aside for a time — is all part of these years with young children. The trick might be to put it somewhere you will remember it; to pick it up again as soon as you can. So here’s what I’m doing: Waking early again to read in the still-dark house. (Solmaz Sharif’s stunning collection , Look, is making it so that I practically leap out of bed.) Noticing. Linda Gregg’s essay The Art of Finding is the thing I always come back to when I feel I’ve stopped seeing & so I’m doing my six things religiously. (“I have my students keep a journal in …

Last/first

Mornings beautiful for their encrusting of frost. Afternoons reading on the sofa. Silence at the turning of the year. Thinking about effortless effort. A year of something small: page after page of days in black ink. The company of friends, and the first year that T has been awake at midnight — tiptoeing down from the double-bed she was sharing with her friend and her friend’s little sister to stand wide-eyed at the pictures of the fireworks on the Thames. 1.30 & I creep to the loft ready to bring her home & find her and her friend both lying on their tummies, reading. Boys heavy with sleep and warmth as we carry them home. Starting the year a little jaded. I read Paddington stories, while B cooks a roast. The year ahead hazy with possibility. It will be the first year in seven that we haven’t had a child under two or been expecting another. That is something to marvel at. Moving to the next stage with grace. Never to forget how lucky I …

Resolve

It’s been sparkly and bright. Full of family, food, togetherness & love, and crammed with nearly all of the Christmassy delights we could have wished for. We’ve had a fortnight of near-total bliss and I feel so very lucky. Today the older two little ones are back at school & nursery, B is back at work, and it feels a little like the real first day of the new year. It’s bittersweet: the sadness that we’re not all hanging out together anymore, but the excitement of new projects & plans. The whole year ahead, it’s shape yet to unfold. And all that I wish for, really, is that we’re all healthy, all happy (on balance), all still here next year. Which is, perhaps, a lot. I haven’t made resolutions or chosen a word for the year. Instead I’m following Austin Kleon’s wise advice: something small, every day. Which in this case is fifteen minutes of writing (truly small), every day (truly terrifying). Somewhere, somehow, the commitment to just fifteen minutes. It’s a test of my …