In truth, I like the fresh start it represents and the opportunity to maybe have things organized once I'm done, but it's the process of getting there that troubles me.
Soooo, instead of getting started right away, I'm pondering the new year, Greg turning 40 and starting a new decade (one he's really looking forward to, I might add), and the unique wonderfulness of beginnings.
And seeing as how Grace got wind of my plans to de-Christmas soon and is consequently frantically reading all of the Christmas books one last time before they are locked away for a year, it seems only fair that I give her a moment.
I guess I love that as lost in a moment as I can be, a new year is still a new calendar that no one has written on - and it remains so until I take a pen in hand and start writing.
And regardless of cynical thoughts about my bajillion past ideas or dreams that have never come to fruition, that calendar stays clean with no plans or failures documented - until I try again, with my pen to own my new calendar.
And at the end of every year when I agonize over which new calendar to purchase (must have an emotional attachment), I am overwhelmed with it's newness.
I am overwhelmed with grace - the opportunity to begin again, again.
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