To be honest, the end of last year was really lacking it. And my new years resolutions for that matter were just a bit tired. A bit weary. But inspiration has struck, finally.
It was carried down by a midnight run and blog post. And with it has come a desire for serenity, self-understanding and knowledge.
I don't like rules and strict resolutions. I like making them, but then they stop me from achieving my goals. I work better on a feeling, or an aim. A sense of how I want to feel or where I want to go.
And I've realised that I think I want to find my person. An author that intrigues me so much that I can't get enough. That I read their letters, their essays, their journals. It was Sylvia Plath, and to be honest it could still be, but there could be somebody else. So I'm on a new quest, and I'm going to read and read until I find them. And then I'm going to read and read some more.
I read an article about someone who read effectively a book a day. I'm not planning something so drastic - in fact I'm not planning anything at all - but what I took from it was how he did it, and it wasn't by giving up his work or time with his family. He said he replaced all his reading, and watching, with reading books. No facebook, no youtube, no re-watching old episodes of Grey's Anatomy. Just book upon book. And that sounds like bliss.
And I'm not saying we don't need down time, a little time to not be productive. But it's so easy to waste time. To see a week go by in a flash, without a second to let your head catch up with it. So I think it goes back to awareness. Just being aware of what I'm doing and where I'm going rather than letting it all carry me along with no real sense of direction.