As I've said before, I'm not big on New Year's resolutions. So this year, upon the advice of my wise friend Holly, I'm doing a birthday resolution of sorts.
Let me explain.
Recently at a happy hour, I was telling Holly about how, for some reason, the idea of turning forty was really bumming me out. I'm not a person who gets hung up on age normally, so it was really weird feeling the weight of this day coming at me. FORTY. It just sounded and seemed so damned serious. Well, Holly told me that a friend of hers had started choosing a word or a "theme" every year on her birthday, and that Holly had adopted that practice as well. Not a resolution, per se, but more like a mantra...a touch stone...a core value that helps guide the choices you make for that year. Holly's word for her most recent birthday had been "Health," and she suggested that maybe choosing a word myself might be helpful.
So I started thinking. And thinking. And obsessing,. And trying like Hell to come up with a word that felt honest and right. Finally, I landed on it: Balance.
Whenever I become unhappy or stressed or even sick, it can almost always be traced back to something being out of balance in my life. Work is taking over home. Fried foods are taking over fresh. Negativity is taking over positivity. Wine is taking over water. Worry is taking over sleep. TV taking over books. Small annoyances seem like big crises. You get the idea. Things get out of whack when you stop paying attention, then WHAM, you're unbalanced, unhealthy, and unhappy. So this fortieth year of my existence, I will let balance be my guide and see where it takes me. Hopefully to a place with lower bloodpressure, fewer pounds, more rest, and increased joy.
And speaking of joy, is there anything happier than a cat in a sunbeam? Not much.