a new year and serendipity again

1 January 2009

This new year’s eve I sequester in. 

That’s nothing new.  I’ve never liked the big whoop it up party scene, kissing people I barely know because it’s ‘tradition’ and the collective countdown to the dropping of the ball. Celebrating the ‘moment.’ What moment?  What now?  Pondering that was never something I felt I needed to do while mingling amongst revellers.  Oh I’m still a party girl – but that particular ‘moment’ has always felt awkward when experienced in a crowd. Dinner with close friends and/or family – now that’s a way to usher in a new year.

But this year I sequester in.  I consciously approach a private new year’s celebration this year.  I don’t have any great thoughts to think, any great plans to make; I just want to enjoy this gift to myself. I make soup. In my bathrobe. I watch Fred Astaire.  I open champagne at eleven.

In the morning I awake with a contented heart.  I sleep in a little, then, headachy for doing so, make coffee.  I spend much of the day in the same bathrobe, feeling ‘nesty’ and cutting out pictures for a collage, re-potting plants and washing the kitchen floor.

The ‘nesty’ thing is odd.  It’s not unusual for January, I think lots of people experience it, especially in this wintery country.  I used to thrive on my own ‘nestiness.’  But I’ve been without a home to nest in for almost five years now.  Oh I’ve had nice places to live in, in nice neighbourhoods; but I mean a home in my heart. In the five places I’ve lived in since leaving Windsor, I’ve never completely unpacked, never truly set up a bedroom or a kitchen.  I thought this place would be the one, but it’s not. Half my things are still with my girls a year after I left them.

Don’t go thinking that’s a tragic thing, because the minute I stopped thinking of it as tragic, it stopped being so.  Home will come to me when it’s good and ready.  In the meantime I’ll continue to impose belongings on my daughters and not organize my bookshelves in any pleasing or logical way and my closets will remain a haphazard mess of summer and winter and half full suitcases.

With the turnover of this new year I am grateful that I am really, really moving past a perplexingly difficult four and a half years.  For the first time in a long time, I can sit alone in my kitchen and feel comfort in things like my dishes, cast iron pot and wooden table.  I move through the rooms today feeling restful.  Restful and ready for the adventures the universe will bring in 2009.


The other day I wrote about my recent focus on dolls, and how serendipitous events keep happening that seemingly lay out a path to create.  A few days ago I encountered the blog and website of a doll artist and expressive arts practitioner.  She offers online workshops and based on the work I’ve seen, and her writings, I thought her workshops seemed a great value for anyone who might stick her/his toe in the proverbial waters of expressive arts.  Today the artist writes to me and tells me I’ve won a draw for a free spot in one of her workshops because I posted a link to her website on mine.

Given my new year’s resolutions – to be kinder and gentler with myself, and to commit time to creative pursuits – I would say this is yet another wonderful coincidence.

As 2009 unfolds, I’ll just keep riding the waves.  And I think a lace curtain for the kitchen window would be nice.


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