Looking Back . . . Then Forward

Last year was a tough year in many ways. Hard things to face and hard things to do. It is painful to confront trouble, deal with it, parcel out the good from the bad and re-orient your perspective so you remember and learn from it all. The year 2010 was one of sifting and sifting and sifting through the chaff and the riff raff to find the gold.

Maybe because of that pain and trouble, things feel especially sweet this year. A couple of really good things have happened in the lives of my friends and family this year. Things that make me want to do a happy dance for them. Just regular things like health, good jobs, and happy accomplishments, but things made all the sweeter because I've learned to treasure and hold the golden things wrapped close to my body, close to my ear, close to my heart and listen for the whispers of relief, the shouts of joy and the silence of peace.

"And men are, that they might have joy." (2 Nephi 2:25)

Notes to Self

• It doesn't matter that I don't actually own a TV, the Internet has changed the whole TV-watching landscape and I still watch far too much of it. 
• I don't have babies of my own so I like to spend time with my nieces and nephews. I haven't had as much time lately to do that and when I do see them it is like my heart expands and wants to burst in those moments. They are growing so tall and growing so big, so very, very fast. Where are the sweet babies they were just a few years ago? I am amazed how quickly they change and how much they take a piece of my heart with them every time I say goodbye to them. 
• Time is hurtling by. Way too fast for my comfort.
• I snuggled up and watched some movies this week. It was my mental health reprieve. I am a sucker for British/Edwardian/Austenian kinds of film with a strong dose of anything happy or hopeful. Unlike a  few years ago when I couldn't get enough of dark, deep, thought-provoking films. Right now, I am only interested in sunshine, hope and overcoming at all odds. 
• I love my Grandmother's couch, my sweet yellow chair and my 1930s cherry mahogany dining table but they are all almost too nice for my house. I worry too much about them staying nice rather than living with them. I think they would fit perfectly in a living room and then I could buy family room furniture and a sturdier casual dining table. 
• I like my little Pear Tree Cottage but I'm growing up. I'm still years away from it but I want a house. A real, live house of my own with a living room, family room, study, and big kitchen. It cracks me up that I now fall asleep to dreams of gas stoves, stainless steel appliances and dining chairs. 
• I can imagine myself as a mother, always have, but I have the hardest time imagining myself as a wife. I think my romantic life needs a boost. 
• I used to wonder at what point older adults gave up on the idea of marriage, a spouse or a family. I know now. They never do. 
• Living alone was fun at first--doing what you want, never answering to anyone, making and leaving messes without worrying about them--but the initial pleasure has worn off. Life was meant to be lived together surrounded by the daily, constant work of loving others. 
• Change is hard. 
• I want to go out to eat more. I want to have more dinner parties. I like good food and good friends. 
• I've noticed a lot of bad habits lately that have cropped up over the past few years. They are like really big weeds in my garden. I don't like them. 
• Hard work makes me feel better. I'm just really well-practiced at delaying its arrival.