2017: it was the best of times, it was the worst of times (apologies Charlie, apparently I have no qualms about bastardizing the greats for my own narcissistic look back at the year).
I absolutely refuse to spend too long ruminating over a year best described as ‘relentless’ but in the interests of posterity and catharsis, my 2017 was sort of a little bit the living embodiment of that Britney circa 2007 meme. NB no heads were shaved. The opposite if anything, this mane is getting more Cousin It by the minute. I digress.
Don’t get me wrong, the peaks have been mountainous – huge professional leaps, the most job satisfaction I have ever enjoyed, reaching a decade of marital whatsit and finding all the zen. The troughs have been chasmic. Those chasmic lows have taught me a whole lot this year – about the kind of woman I am, the strength I can pull from my darkest recesses when needed, the kind of life I want to live, the art of resilience and the unbelievably restorative power of skidding around the kitchen in my socks. I already knew the last one.
In the interests of thriving in 2018 rather than just surviving (it rhymes, you’re welcome) I’m engineering a year in which:
- There are no sub-par cups of tea drunk. That kind of self loathing is no longer welcome here.
- My body continues to be something of a temple. I mean, I won’t be giving up Curly Wurlies or a decent Cotes Du Rhone (hashtag wine wanker) but I have signed up to run my first half marathon in over a decade – gulp – and I’ll make a conscious effort to remove the post yoga lycra before popping the cork on a bottle of red. Balance people, it’s all about balance.
- The soul feeders take priority – the people who challenge me, make me laugh, are fun to be around. Because why would any sane person choose to give their energy to anyone else?!
- I am rarely without a book in hand.
- ‘No’ is not a dirty word.
- I write.
- All of the shoes are fabulous.
- The sea* features heavily. I’d like to never be without sand in all kinds of unsightly places.
- I explore the world a little more (Vienna, Amsterdam and Norway for starters).
- The kitchen dance party is a daily ritual rather than a weekly treat.
- I continue to push my professional limits.
- I choose happiness. It sounds all kinds of glib and twee but it took a good thirty years for me to figure out what happiness looks like for me, I won’t be letting go of that any time soon.
Whatever your plans for 2018, I hope you find a way to choose happiness in the big stuff and in the tiny little moments in between. Happy New Year. Almost.
*interchangeable with husband/spaniels/step daughters/shed/ sand as appropriate