I’ve been on a quiet bender. A writing radio silence. Most writers know they just need a deadline. I thought I needed a muse; the muse as some form of motivation. But like a fitness coach, it’s not their counting and cheering while you do the reps, it’s mostly someone holding you accountable. In my case, it is only me. I decide what my priorities are. When our priorities aren’t right, it’s because excuses are too easy. I remember a line I heard many years ago. It came from an episode of the Dr. Phil Show playing in the background. He said one thing I’ll never forget. He was speaking to a woman about her weight issues, and said, ‘You can get really good at making excuses about your weight, or you can get really fat.’ Really good at excuses or really ~the other thing~ 

Excuses blanket emotions we don’t want to deal with. Get to the root. -Brocka 

I haven’t wanted to read through all my mother’s journals, because of truths I might not want to know. I haven’t wanted to write, because I haven’t wanted to sit in silence with myself.  

Let’s start being honest with ourselves, first.  

I’m not a big resolution person. Little, non-consequential things I want to implement are o.k. I did take all my work shirts to the dry cleaner this past year, saving myself all the ironing time. The money was worth it. I’ve always applied the concept of a new year to my birthday though. Aging and finite time are paramount on birthdays, and this seems more compelling than simply ringing in a new year.  

I did not read as many books as I usually knock out. One of them was 1000+ pages, so that’s a legit reason. I did, however, finish the entire Andrea Camilleri catalog. His Inspector Montalbano series is twenty-eight deep, and they were such a delight! They’re both witty, dark, and filled with Italian culture set in a make-believe near Sicily. Pure charm and human introspection. He died in 2019, and I knew this reading trip was one I wanted to take.

We are hula-hooping in the backyard. The sun is warm, but the breeze keeps the sweat from our skin. We are laughing at ourselves; adults being silly. You’re a pro. You joke that you could compete if ever there were a competition. We all love these small wins. Anything to get a leg-up. Anything to feel an accomplishment. Celebrate the little things.  

Here’s to you!