It’s officially 2015! A New Year brings new possibilities and hope for change. It doesn’t have to be massive, it doesn’t even have to create any impact on anyone but yourself. However, should it be strived for, and subsequently achieved, it could work wonders for your wellbeing. I’m not talking about those resolutions which have now almost become stereotypes. I’m talking about change (not resolution), improvement (not quick fix) which won’t only affect this year, but will continue over all of your years. Re-connecting with your true self, creating happiness and achieving an environment of friendship, love and trust. These changes will then infect all aspects of your life, aspects of your friend’s life and then bleed into your families. You’ll become contagious to all those around you. These changes don’t care whether your single or married, slim or overweight, introvert or extrovert. All it needs to work is you, and there’s nothing better than simply being you.
I’ve written my New Year’s letter to myself again this year, and instead of things I hope to achieve in 2015, I’ve put little monthly objectives which, if completed will lead to the goal. A proactive list of what to do rather than a list of hopes with no direction (although I must admit, there is still a couple of cheeky wishes in there too!) In March my first book of poems is going to be published. The first part of this menagerie is dedicated to the Soul. The most powerful part of our being and the one which defines us as individuals. We may all share a common interest but all our souls are unique. To balance this, it’s the soul which takes the most damage, absorbs the hurt, but equally gives the most to all of us and so should be treasured.
Now, I shall leave you with one of my favourite poems. Have a wonderful new year and I’ll see you in a fortnight.
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.