Every year I make myself a calendar on a large sheet of watercolor paper. I draw everything out by hand, individually inking each square (366 this year). I hand write the dates, the day of the week, and the moon phase. Eventually, I'll draw out a design around the calendar and mark each special occasion with a little doodle. I pick a color of each month and paint each day as it passes.
This will be the third year that I make myself a calendar like this. I can't help but think of how fast the year goes while I'm making it. Didn't I want to lose weight this year? Wasn't I going to be happier? What happened to all of the time I had? There were days full of hours and hours full of minutes. Where did they all go? At the end of the year, what am I left to show for all of this time?
This was an exceptional year as far as my schedule went, but there was so much more I wanted to accomplish. No one stood in my way but me. I went into the year already writing it off. It would be the year I finished grad school, and most of the year would be tied up in that. I had blinders on allowing me to only see this year as something to be survived, not something to thrive in. I just had to make it through.
Would it be too much of a cliche to say that I want to be a better me in 2016? I know this is the time of the year where everyone, blogger or not, is thinking about what they need to do in the year to come. And would be it be too much if I said that this year I'm going to make a solid effort to make this a better year? Honestly, I could do nothing, and this year would be better than last year.
I'm not joining a group or starting a book. I think this time needs to be me exploring what I want, not what something is telling me to do. Finding my own prompts and finding my own way. I've spent the last three and a half years of my life learning how to help other people figure out who they are. It's time I spent some time on me.
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