Christmas came and went. Quick. Just like that. And now we find ourselves in the month not coincidentally named after Janus, ancient Roman mythology's two-faced god that looks both to the past and the future. He is the god of both endings and beginnings, the god of doorways and transitions. Totally appropriate.
All confident I was going to eat 2011 alive I came in with guns blazing, all cocky with my post I had crossed out #1 on my year's bucket list so early in the game. Running a new race distance was just one of the several things I set out to do. And then kaput. First helping of humble pie. #2, for me, just didn't happen. It was a relatively simple goal. Step into the kitchen and make something. Anything really. I stepped into the kitchen a lot (half a check for that) only it was to sort and organize. In all honesty, I'd rather clean the bathroom than cook but I was more determined than ever I'd whip up some new dishes. I joined a cooking class, listened intently, asked a ton of questions, took down notes, went home and replicated the dish that very evening. Just that once. Never again. Remind me next time to resolve not to make any more resolutions. Or maybe I can keep putting it out here so I'm forced to get around to it.
But 2011 was, well, interesting. I found comfort in cancer, in growing old. I discovered what ice cold really feels like, I breathed the same air as Bono, I bitched about insensitive souls. I learned to be thankful, I discovered new places, new spaces, I even told my children my truth.
For starters I've learned not to get too crazy with the list. And so for this year I shall, in no particular order accept, listen, read, embrace and reach out.
I want some parts of me to be like this child again: wide-eyed and eager to face the world, less cynical, less skeptical.