Last year I wrote my New Year’s themed blog post about the importance of not forgetting the past in favor of a better future. It seemed to me that people so easily hope to forget the past as the clock rolls over from December into January. A clean slate is much more attractive than a book of mistakes and regrets that wrote the early pages of our adulthoods — maybe even our childhoods.
I have no such words for this year’s first blog. In fact, I have very few words on any subject at all. To those of you who have been checking my blog and wondering when I might return, I apologize for again abandoning my post for two months. When last I left you I was writing another novel. Then I guess everything just got crazy, and the blog fell to the background.
Over the weeks leading up to now, I have thought about writing. Then every Thursday would pass me by again. I could list the reasons and excuses, but it’s a new year. Instead, I’m moving on.
I don’t feel new like so many people would hope to feel in the new year. But I do feel as if I have good opportunities waiting for me to find them in the future.
Like many others, I’m currently on a healthy eating/exercise plan, though I’m not stressing over the boundaries of said plan. I also have intentions of finishing my first novel this year…the one I had hoped to submit to the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Awards this month, which, yeah, isn’t going to happen. But I’m much closer to my goal than I was last year at this time. This past fall, I rewrote five whole chapters, and just last week I scrapped and began rewriting another two.
Then, just this evening, I picked up my clarinet for the first time in a good long while. Every couple of years I attempt to begin playing again, having given up the daily routine of it more than twelve years ago. Yet tonight, I practiced Bach … from memory. Of course I stumbled over notes, but I found them all, and the second try was even better. I’ve fallen from a size 3 reed to a 2, but I’m playing.
So I’m making these recent attempts my metaphor for the new year. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since you’ve written anything creatively, or how long it’s been since you’ve eaten broccoli, or how long it’s been since you picked up your guitar or sat down to the piano or tried to recall high school Russian. All that matters is you’re doing it now. And that you keep doing it, for as long as it means something to you.