Naturally, at the start of a Gregorian calendar year, those of us who live by it think of the new. New year, new growth, new look at what’s right and what’s wrong with our lives and our world. Part of that comes from the placement of the new year so soon after the winter solstice, the rebirth of light. So many of our ancestors took that as a renewal of hope.

I have another reason to view this time of year as a new one. My birthday comes in hard on the heels of all of this, pretty much a moon behind the solstice itself. So naturally, my thoughts have turned the general direction of what’s ahead for me. Generally, I’m happy. I’m at the point where I’ve kind of got what it means to be me, to live in my skin, down. It doesn’t mean I’m complacent, but I’m certainly content. I can stand here and stretch out, grow into me a little bit more.

I’ve upgraded my Fitbit to a ChargeHR, and I noticed that right about then, I got more steps than I had been… fairly consistently over 3000/day. Now that’s not a lot, really. Certainly not the 10,000 recommended by pretty much everybody. But it’s better than what I’d managed before, and it’s not a huge goal. It’s also something I can look at and remind myself that “Hey, I’ve been doing this, all I’ve got to do is continue.” The bonus is that I’ve found myself looking for ways to meet and even exceed that goal.

I’ve decided my theme for this year is joy. Joy in what I have, in what I am. I’ve picked a few quotes that tickle my fancy with that. “Your body isn’t a temple, it’s an amusement park! Enjoy the ride!” “Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious.” and “The purpose of life is to fight maturity.” Another one that brings it a little more down to earth is “I define joy as a sustained sense of well-being and internal peace—a connection to what matters.”—Oprah.

My mini-theme for January is my own path. Parts of it are well-worn, both by my own feet and those of others. Parts of it hare off into mysterious tunnels and twists. I may have to backtrack over bits here and there. There may be parts where I’m trudging, there may be parts where I’m skipping and giggling and dancing. It’s mine to walk.

Tell me about it...