Newness

2010 is here. A long time ago, I would calculate that I was going to be 44 when the year turned 2000.... and then I didn't think much about time or life after that, because 2000 seemed so... futuristic. But it really wasn't, it was just, well, 2000. And then it was 2001, and 2002, and 2003, and here we are at 2010.

I have some knitting goals this year (I don't like to consider them resolutions, since I never really resolve to do things... I'm better at setting goals). Like, "Try to focus on two or three projects instead of 92." Like, "For Pete's sake, will you finish a lace shawl or something?"Like "Keep new stash acquisition at a minimum." (Believe it or not, I actually did pretty good at this one in 2009 - I received more yarn as gifts than I purchased, and I knit more from stash than I had done in previous years.)

Personal goals are going to be mostly in my head. Like, stop comparing what I do and what I eat to everyone else. My body is going to react differently and I just need to accept that. Like trying to follow some kinder, gentler principles in my life: Right understanding, right aspiration, right effort, right speech (especially right speech), right conduct, right livelihood, right mindfulness, right concentration. Like starting things that I know I should start ("begin - the rest is easy").

2009 was a rough year. Earlier tonight, as I tried to write in my journal about things that happened throughout the year (which I try to do each New Year's Eve), all I could come up with was "Aunt Irene died." Everything else seemed secondary to that. Yes, we took some great trips, yes, there were some great events (knitting and otherwise), yes, much yarny goodness was there, and yes, DH and I are still here and still love each other very much. But I will always remember 2009 as being "the year Aunt Irene died," just as 1997 will always be "the year mom died."

So, I'm definitely with Yarn Harlot on this one... "2009 - don't let the door hit your arse on the way out."

Shalom. May you have a peaceful year.