Welcome 2025
We are each an eclectic version of the sum of our years. A painting created by the varied, countless elements of life. Specifically, our life.
Such as, where were we born?
What lessons did we take from the land of our birth, either consciously or by osmosis?
Who were the mentors who came to us—parents, relatives or teachers? And what of the lack of mentors? What manner of creativity in our DNA helped us to find our way on our own? What of late-arriving mentors?
Perhaps we are introvert or extrovert or both. We are conscious and unconscious; dreamers and downers; young and old; creative and dull; fearful and reckless; awake or asleep.
Perhaps we are some combination of all things.
Are you, like me, ever-changing?
As I stand in the early hours of a new year I am grateful to be alive.
Life is awfully scary at times. It’s unpredictability can knock us off our feet. Traumatize us. But like the paints shown here, mystery can ambush us in positive ways.
Adventure.
Aliveness in all its wonderful disguises.
Music.
Learning.
Art.
Friendship.
2025’s vehicle for me begins with the lens of a song.
Like its author, I sometimes get off balance with one philosophy or another. The resulting pendulum can disorient me as I stand firmly planted in values and then fall to me knees when life afflicts me with its mean-girl-form, laughing at my naiveté.
On the other side of the pendulum, I stand firmly planted in cynicism, taught by a father who said “if you never expect anything, you’ll never be disappointed.”
Sorry, dad. It’s really not that simple.
In the messy ways of the unconscious, a movie captured me in deeper ways than I realized in the moment. Taking me back to 14 years of age, in a quiet time of aloneness on New Year’s Eve, the life questions of that time apparently worked on me in my sleep.
I landed at the page today with tugs and memories connected to the tenderest parts of me.
- the poetry through which I view life,
- the praying part of me that will not give up on my existence, and
- the value of keeping my promises that can be as dogged as a bad habit.
Poems, Prayers, Promises.
Seems like an okay place to start . . .
