The First Day of 2006

We’ve been in Santa Fe visiting my mother and enjoying a brief break. I feel like The Thing That Ate New Mexico. I don’t regret a mouthful–the shrimp diablo at Los Mayos still lingers in memory, fat fresh shrimp in a creamy chipotle-infused sauce–but The Time Has Come, The Walrus Said.

So herein lie the New Year’s resolutions, an unsorted melange from the short-range to the wide-ranging:

1. Peel off the winter padding accumulated during varied stress points in late ought-five. This is a family endeavor, which makes it easier. Sandy has asked me to be the house chef for South Beach Phase 1, a job I am all too acquainted with. Out, wicked bread! Be gone, naughty cookie! I (shudder) love you, Mr. Cauliflower!

2. Put my heart and soul into finishing my MFA. I have one more full semester this spring, followed by a summer completing my major project. I am already grieving the end of this program. What a long, strange, chewy, crunchy, toffee-flavored, rainbow-colored trip it has been.

3. Clean the garage.

4. Exercise at least five hours per week. I’m now exercising about three hours per week, but increasing the amount I spend exercising has a small complicating factor. I read on the treadmill, and the Y only allows thirty-minute segments when others are reading. If I change what time I go to the Y, I can probably do an hour at a shot. (The idea of exercising without reading is unthinkable. I really don’t know how people do it.)

5. Try to get something published. “Something” here means an essay not written for library literature. I’ve cut myself a long leash on this goal, since I don’t want it to overwhelm my efforts to finish my MFA, but getting into the habit of sending stuff out over and over again is important. I already have some very prestigious rejections under my belt and it’s time to accumulate a few more.

6. Give my faith life a little more quality time. Say a few more prayers. Try to go to church a little more (though this is also back-burnered for the MFA). Say grace at most meals. Why don’t I ever say grace over breakfast? Is it because I eat breakfast standing up in the kitchen? Maybe I need to tape a reminder on the fridge. Peet’s french roast is a strong argument for intelligent design.

7. Continue to read widely, carefully, and closely. Know the difference between books that can be tasted or gulped, and those that need to be savored.

8. Make tiramisu at least once this year.

In developing this list in my head (during a very turbulent landing tonight when the whole plane fell stone silent except for two nervously loud teenagers and a crying baby), I realized I hadn’t included goals such as re-reading Chaucer or learning to ice skate (can you read while ice skating?), let alone anything work-related. The last omission is very intentional. I have my work deliverables–what I’m supposed to do–and I also have my broader hopes and dreams for MPOW. But I develop those goals on a different timetable than my personal life goals. I often wondered why work accounting calendars had to be so out of sync with our personal budget years, but now I think it is well justified. For everything there is a season.

As for Chaucer, I haven’t re-read any lately, but I do find myself re-encountering Shakespeare through various blind dates. I will start writing an essay and then remember, hey, someone told this story before, and did a better job, too. So I’ll re-read The Tempest or Midsummer Night’s Dream in one rushed but not unhappy sitting, not unlike eating breakfast out of the fridge. Which makes me wonder: if I can say grace for the food on my table (or on the top shelf of the fridge), why can’t I say grace for Shakespeare and other feasts of the brain?

Which brings me to my last resolution (which was almost a prayer in its own right, forming in my mind as the plane lurched in and out of the clouds and people bit their lips and squeezed arm-rests), and it’s a resolution that is more of a wish and a hope for not just me but all my friends near and far: to keep marching to whatever drums we hear, to enjoy and celebrate the way we encounter the world and share our gifts. So many of you reading this have touched and enriched my life, just by being who you are. You set a model for my life. Happy New Year!