Happy New Year

Well, that was an underwhelming New Year’s Eve. Since it was Sunday night, no college bowls to watch. In the NFL, the Greenbay Packers beat the Minnesota Vikings, 33-10. Never a doubt as to who would win. 

After, I wanted to see the ball drop in Times Square. As we struggled with the TV streaming service here, I got out my iPad and watched Paul Anka sing John Lennon’s “Imagine”. Then, it was time for the count down. The glittery ball was not impressive on an 11” screen, but 2024 was here. At least on the East Coast. Since we’re on Mountain Standard Time, it was only 10:00 PM. However, the household is on baby time, as well it should be, so we followed Molly and Spaulding to bed. Maybe a champagne toast today.

My 2023 resolution was to catch up and stay caught up on reading my magazines, which I did. There are a couple of new ones waiting for me to come home, but I’ve developed a satisfying routine of reading an article in one or two each morning, What to do this year?

I’m enjoying my water coloring. Perhaps plan to paint each day, even practicing a technique. Another possibility, a New York Times writer touted the value of being aware of delight. Her stance is that after writing in a gratitude journal for a while, we become repetitive: my family, my friends, my job, good food, etc. Perhaps better to notice things that delight us. There would be, potentially, much that might catch our eye, and it’s not on our heads to think of things. They just await our notice. Her muse is The Book of Delights by Ross Gay, a series of essays on his journey in delight. I’ve downloaded it from the library, That’s a delight: I can read about a book, immediately go on the Libby app, and either start reading, or place the book on hold. That provides another delight when, weeks later, I get a notice that a book I’ve requested is ready for me. I’ve forgotten why I wanted it but surely there was a good reason.

In any case, she suggests that when we notice something that delights us, we put our index finger in the air and say, “Delightful”. This would helps us remember the event and perhaps include others in the delight.

I tried it a couple of time yesterday on our boring neighborhood walk, when I noticed some berries on bushes and some dried grass heads. Perhaps the plan is to find delight no matter the circumstances. Couldn’t hurt.

As for painting, that’s a real possibility. I brought my small pallet and notebook on this trip and have painted every day except yesterday. I’m using a water brush, which is a plastic brush attached to a reservoir of water. Each time I need to change colors, I just wipe the bristles on a paper towel. (Another delight: YouTube teaching videos.) 

Both painting and saying “delightful” aloud would move me out of my comfort zone, because I’d be more public about my thoughts. Grant is so kind in his appraisal of my art, but I’m still uncomfortable showing anything to him. 

Perhaps that’s my resolution for 2024: be more open to sharing my interior. TBD.