The year of living dangerously

Another year.

I am sitting on the recliner at home here on New Years Eve. David and S. are already in bed and I am sure to follow soon. But first I have to finish the latte I just made. Not decaf. I am a rebel.

I was going to skip the obligatory end of year post, but as I am relaxed as I ever will be, the thoughts kept invading my head. You see, 2010 was a very odd year for me. It was the first year in many that infertility didn’t rule my world. Well it did, in some ways, but there wasn’t a single month of drugs, injections, cycle calendars, appointments, medical bills, and dashed dreams.

Instead I met a wonderful therapist that helped me heal the open wounds. I invested more time in my family. I lost some weight.

But I had some down moments too. I gambled on a new job at work that I didn’t get (and may have committed career suicide in the process- jury still out on that). S. lost his job, then got a new one, then left THAT job and got another new one. I gained back the weight I lost. Every pound.

2010 was a year of change and upheaval. And ironically, the (almost) start of 2011 brings me back to a familiar place from years ago. It’s as if I lived this life only to come full circle back to the beginning… to the enlightened me.

I don’t have any resolutions this year. Sure, I will try to lose the weight AGAIN for the millionth time. I will try to be good to myself and others. I will try to live in the moment. I will try to not shoot myself in the foot so much.

And I will practice patience. Patience is something I will need in spades this year.

But most of all, I plan to make this a year of stepping out of the box. I’ve gotten quite comfy in the little padded room I made for myself up to this point.

2010 was the year of thinking inward. 2011 is the year to throw caution to the wind and dream a little. Take a risk. Succeed or fail. At least try.

I wish you all a Happy New Year.

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