… of the year.
All morning yesterday, Cheerio was on fire.
“I haven’t eaten anything this whole year. This is the first time I’ve peed this year. I haven’t showered since last year.”
She’s ten. She played this little game because she thought it was hilarious and clever. And it was, but mostly because of how pleased she was with herself.
When I take her shopping for clothes, she can look at something and know immediately if she likes it or not (mostly not). She does not take a moment to ponder what her friends would think of it, or what the kids in school would say. She just listens to her own voice in her own head. She will turn eleven in 2013. I hope that by the end of this year, she will still be listening to what she thinks and feels, but I know those other voices are lurking. I know because it happens to most of us.
I will turn 40 this year.
I’ve heard from many of you (and Oprah) that during our forties, we begin the journey back to ourselves. I am packed and ready for departure.
I feel that I am a fairly genuine person. I generally say what I mean and mean what I say (like Horton) and my actions are usually on par with my true intentions. My actions and my words are mostly genuine. (Yes, I am taking notice of my use of qualifying adverbs). My thoughts are the problem. That dialogue going on inside of my head can be very loud and questioning, and, sometimes, it prevents me from taking action at all.
I won’t buy that shirt that I really like because others might think it looks ridiculous. I won’t ask someone to meet me for lunch because she might think I’m weird, and besides, she is probably busy and isn’t really looking for new friends. I won’t stop in the middle of the sidewalk and take that photo because someone might drive by and wonder what the hell I am doing.
My actions are genuine. My words are genuine.
My inaction is false, untrue, disingenuous, and not a representation of me.
I have many ideas about how I would like to improve myself and my days during 2013. I want to take more photographs and drink more water. I want to write more fiction and read more books. Eat consciously. Journal more. Less stuff, more experiences. Find more friends. Put myself out there. Stop hiding. Say yes.
But I can’t do any of those without listening to my own voice and quieting the rest (Except maybe the water one. That seems pretty straightforward.).
I am an imperfect, but good mother, wife, and person. I know this to be true. I no longer need the perceived voices, opinions, and judgements of others to help me make choices and judgements of my own. This year, I wish to strip down (figuratively – calm down, husband) and expose the rawness, the core, the ten year old within, if only to myself.
So, 2013, year I turn 40, I welcome you with open arms, a willing, unguarded heart, and a quiet, peaceful mind.
Okay, not a completely quiet mind, but I’m getting there. I’m heading in the right direction.
Cheerio just now said, as I was typing this, “I’ve only taken one shower all year,” and then snickered to herself. She is my hero.