2015 was not my year. Man, was it ever not. Family upheaval, bad news, discontent, and a whole lot of binge watching television.
Life was meant to be more than I could have ever dreamed.
Something went sideways some years back. I'm not sure I could pinpoint exactly when, but I've let myself go.
My children stare at their iPads at the ages of 2 and 4 and barely look up some days, and I gotta tell you, that hurts.
But there are days when we get out, when we re-wild, when we find ourselves out among the trees and grass, when we get caught up in a game of catch the fish, when we teach the dogs something new, when we draw and dance and I remember what it feels like to be content.
To be joy filled.
2016 is my year. I've shed a lot of expectations I'd placed on myself, that had been placed on my by others and I'm remembering what I was like before I added these layers of crap.
This is my year.
Let it be so.