Now that the winter holidays are over and we're back to school and work, I am again rising in the darkness (5:45 am). Most mornings dawn gray and drizzly. It is still dark when I wave farewell to A as she boards her bus for the 40 minute ride to school. Sometime between getting Little K out of bed and myself in and out of the shower, I might glance out the window. One morning last week I was lucky enough to see this sunrise. It was glorious like this for just a few moments. I took this shot from an upstairs window, and by the time I'd run downstairs and out into the street to get a more expansive view, the pink glow was entirely gone, and everything was gray again.
There is so much potential in a new year. This year we have big plans, and there is much to be accomplished. There are also mounting obstacles, from health challenges to financial uncertainty. The occasional brilliant sunrise I'm lucky enough to witness during these dark Northwest winter days are like a glimpse into the future -- a future that could be brighter if I could just conquer my fears and work hard at what needs doing. The low gray clouds that hang on me during the day are the process, which I don't enjoy and which fills me with sloth and dread. Then, the end of the day nears, and sometimes, if I can remember to look outside, I might see a spectacular sunset, or just another darkening descent into nighttime. I never know which I will see, but I have to keep getting up in the morning, and going through my days with purpose, ever hopeful that the future will be brighter.
Here are some of the things I am wrestling with:
* Losing weight and getting in better shape for the sake of my heart, which is already under enough strain from a defective valve. This has to be the hardest task on my list.
* Clearing out the clutter in my life. There is an entire room filled with stuff, all of it "meaningful" in some way. Half of it arrived when my dad sold the house that belonged to my grandparents, and I grabbed boxes of stuff that I felt shouldn't go to the dump: love letters between my grandparents during WWII, family photos, home movies and slides, projectors, mementos, a brand-new sewing machine, etc. Then there's stuff my mom keeps giving me: books and toys from my childhood, her childhood... things that belonged to my grandmother, stuff of possible monetary as well as sentimental value, but things that are hard to store and take up space. Then there are children's things I hang onto, to pass on to future grandchildren, or to pull out when friends are visiting with little ones. Things that are both handy to have and filled with memories. I have to come to terms with the fact that I cannot save everything, and that things that I don't wish to use or display need to find their way to others who might enjoy them more. I'm tired of being a hoarder, holding onto things because I "should" or "might use them someday." Then there is the garage, overflowing with camping gear, sports equipment, tools, lumber, etc. We can't even walk in there! This must change!
* Going back to school and getting retrained in a new field (a 3 year time commitment, and something that will cost a lot of money which may not be worth the investment) or keep applying for jobs that I'm unlikely to get because I've been out of the workforce for too many years.
* Planning a epic journey, on a shoestring. This should be fun, but the pressure is on because it is likely to be the last vacation we'll take as a family for a long, long time. The logistics, the cost, the expectations of all involved... it's going to be a lot of work to make it happen.
Can I do all this? I don't know, but right now the months and weeks stretch out ahead of me, and anything is possible. As a bonus, the days are getting longer. Wish me strength and determination. I need it.
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