Button Up Your Overcoat (DeSylva, Brown, Henderson)

Last night my husband and I did indeed go out to dinner (Kamado's, a local Chinese/Japanese restaurant... delicious) and a movie (Seven Pounds... thought-provoking) and were home by 11:45 p.m., whereupon we opened a bottle of ruby spumante and had time enough for a toast, a few sips and multiple kisses before midnight struck - we then went out on the patio (with re-filled glasses and the bottle) and proceeded to stretch out on lounge chairs and watch/listen to the (next door and across-the-street) neighborhood display of fireworks... some of them dinky (roman candles and sparklers) and some quite impressive (think Apocalypse Now!).

We had called my mom and R's stepmom earlier in the evening... and then phoned all three of our children a bit after the ball dropped - one answered and wished us a Happy New Year in return... and for the other two we left voicemails. We then retired for the evening, taking advantage of the fact everyone else was out of the house - sweeeet... :-)

We'll get the family together over here about 5 this afternoon for drinks (I have another bottle of champagne in the fridge) and appetizers (as yet to be determined) - ringing in the New Year doesn't have to take place at the stroke of midnight to be meaningful...

So... after much pondering and soul-searching and contemplation (oh my!), I've determined that my Word of the Year for 2009 is... drumroll, please... Health, in all its many definitions: physical, emotional, mental and spiritual - in this whirlwind of a life I have (which remains lovely and satisfying, despite the madness and sorrow), I've not been doing such a good job of taking care of myself (major understatement)...

In 2009, I vow to do the following to restore and maintain my Health:

Physical: take my multi-vitamins every d*mn day; walk/exercise 5 days a week (including as-soon-as-I-get-out-of-bed morning stretches); plan and stick to a sensible eating program (a Life Style Change... not a Diet!); be in the bed as close to midnight as I can possibly manage; make and follow through with all the medical (doctor and dentist) appointments I've managed to back-burner for the last mumblemumble years...

Emotional: nurture important relationships, let non-functioning ones go; say what I mean, mean what I say, and do what I say I'm going to do; trust my intuition; choose joy...

Mental: more reading for pleasure, less computer time; remember the value of setting boundaries ("just say no"); honor the value of deadlines (my own and anyone else who is depending on me); seek out and embrace challenges...

Spiritual: I actually feel pretty on-track here, fulfilled with services/community at my local UU church (where I'm the Sunday Services Committee chair, as well as the promoter/producer of our monthly folk/acoustic concert series) - however, I would also like to make space each day for meditating/quiet time (something I always mean to do, but never seem to make happen); my new mantra (gleaned from a 2009 Live with Intention calendar I bought for myself a few months ago)... "Expect this to be a day of healing, awareness, harmony and gentle order." ~ Naomi C. Rose...

I am only 54 and should have a few more decades ahead of me (barring unforeseen circumstances), if I can be pro-active about my health, rather than allowing it to come last in every list of priorities I've ever made - this will take faith and desire... but it will also require discipline and focus...

I'm a Leo, for god's sake - Just Do It, Susan!

SONG: Button Up Your Overcoat by DeSylva, Brown, Henderson

BOOK: This is YOUR New Year's Resolution!: A 12 Month Health Mastery Program by D Tim Labelle

POEM: New Year's Morning by Helen Hunt Jackson

Only a night from old to new!
Only a night, and so much wrought!
The Old Year's heart all weary grew,
But said: The New Year rest has brought."
The Old Year's hopes its heart laid down,
As in a grave; but trusting, said:
"The blossoms of the New Year's crown
Bloom from the ashes of the dead."

The Old Year's heart was full of greed;
With selfishness it longed and ached,
And cried: "I have not half I need.
My thirst is bitter and unslaked.
But to the New Year's generous hand
All gifts in plenty shall return;
True love it shall understand;
By all my failures it shall learn.
I have been reckless; it shall be
Quiet and calm and pure of life.
I was a slave; it shall go free,
And find sweet pace where I leave strife."

Only a night from old to new!
Never a night such changes brought.
The Old Year had its work to do;
No New Year miracles are wrought.

Always a night from old to new!
Night and the healing balm of sleep!
Each morn is New Year's morn come true,
Morn of a festival to keep.
All nights are sacred nights to make
Confession and resolve and prayer;
All days are sacred days to wake
New gladness in the sunny air.
Only a night from old to new;
Only a sleep from night to morn.
The new is but the old come true;
Each sunrise sees a new year born.

QUOTE: "Every man should be born again on the first day of January. Start with a fresh page. Take up one hole more in the buckle if necessary, or let down one, according to circumstances; but on the first of January let every man gird himself once more, with his face to the front, and take no interest in the things that were and are past." ~ Henry Ward Beecher

"When the heart is at ease, the body is healthy." ~ Chinese Proverb

I Believe You (Todd Snider)

Here is a link to The Learning Curve of Gratitude, Mary Chapin Carpenter's This I Believe essay for NPR's Weekend Edition, Sunday June 24, 2007 - I've also copied and pasted it below...
"I believe in what I learned at the grocery store.

Eight weeks ago, I was released from the hospital after suffering a pulmonary embolism. I had just finished a tour and a week after returning home, severe chest pain and terrible breathlessness landed me in the ER. A scan revealed blood clots in my lungs.

Everyone told me how lucky I was. A pulmonary embolism can take your life in an instant. I was familiar enough with the medical term, but not familiar with the pain, the fear and the depression that followed.

Everything I had been looking forward to came to a screeching halt. I had to cancel my upcoming tour. I had to let my musicians and crew members go. The record company, the booking agency: I felt that I had let everyone down.

But there was nothing to do but get out of the hospital, go home and get well.

I tried hard to see my unexpected time off as a gift, but I would open a novel and couldn't concentrate. I would turn on the radio, then shut if off. Familiar clouds gathered above my head, and I couldn't make them go away with a pill or a movie or a walk. This unexpected time was becoming a curse, filling me with anxiety, fear and self-loathing — all of the ingredients of the darkness that is depression.

Sometimes, it's the smile of a stranger that helps. Sometimes it's a phone call from a long absent friend, checking on you. I found my lifeline at the grocery store.

One morning, the young man who rang up my groceries and asked me if I wanted paper or plastic also told me to enjoy the rest of my day. I looked at him and I knew he meant it. It stopped me in my tracks. I went out and I sat in my car and cried.

What I want more than ever is to appreciate that I have this day, and tomorrow and hopefully days beyond that. I am experiencing the learning curve of gratitude.

I don't want to say "have a nice day" like a robot. I don't want to get mad at the elderly driver in front of me. I don't want to go crazy when my Internet access is messed up. I don't want to be jealous of someone else's success. You could say that this litany of sins indicates that I don't want to be human. The learning curve of gratitude, however, is showing me exactly how human I am.

I don't know if my doctors will ever be able to give me the precise reason why I had a life-threatening illness. I do know that the young man in the grocery store reminded me that every day is all there is, and that is my belief.

Tonight I will cook dinner, tell my husband how much I love him, curl up with the dogs, watch the sun go down over the mountains and climb into bed. I will think about how uncomplicated it all is. I will wonder at how it took me my entire life to appreciate just one day."

SONG: I Believe You by Todd Snider

BOOK: This I Believe: The Personal Philosophies of Remarkable Men and Women edited by Jay Allison and Dan Gediman

POEM: Sunsets by Alan Brownjohn

Suddenly caught by how it seems
Possible and quite credible that,
In this last windless minute at

Sunset, that downspread of fields I watch
(Gazing past, from the vantage hill,
Just visible cows to the town) will

Have darkened a little – even though
You can’t measure this and it may be
Your eyes don’t tell it truthfully –

I sense a comparison with
Some points in the progress of love:
Times when each element has to move

At just the stage when you would want
It at rest – when, dispassionate-
ly, you would want to define and state

To yourself just where you stand. It may
Be a simple error to believe
That love runs on like that, you can deceive

Yourself quite easily. But
So often love seems to be set
On rushing you past anywhere you get

A chance to arrest it, and talk.
And in this, as with nightfall, you sense
That you cannot make much pretence

Of defying any darkness.
It leaves you no other choice.
It happens in front of your eyes.

QUOTE: "Believe nothing, no matter where you read it or who has said it, not even if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense." ~ Buddha