Checking in with 2026

NOT a list of resolutions

Three years ago, I wrote a January post about things I WANTED to do in the coming year—not a list of resolutions but of things I was looking forward to doing. Whatever I might have done in 2023 (or 2024), I’m looking back now to see what I still want to do and I’ve noticed I’m letting go of very specific goals… with the exception of #5:

Quilt and/or knit daily. Sitting with my earbuds, listening to a book that engrosses me or makes me laugh out loud, while moving my hands in a creative project puts me in my Happy Place. I want to have even one hour of that a day.

I’m now approaching my 75th birthday—not for many months yet but it’s on my radar—and I realize that I some things that were too specific have dropped off. The rhythm of my days changed in subtle ways as new events became more pressing—two major surgeries this past year; my son and his wife moving to Ireland and working on their house; starting the Robbie O’Connell Songbook. I think the process is now letting what is most important to have in my life is what’s rising to the top—the cream, if you will.

In writing my Morning Pages today I found myself creating a mental image of my days as a seven petaled flower. To be honest, it started out as five petals but then I found that wasn’t enough to feel “completeness”—the feeling of contentment in having a day full of things I wanted to do. Seven is my birthdate, a magic and portentous number. So seven petals it would be. I doodled and then created this image…

I’m seeing all kinds of relationships between the different petals. Some are verbs, some are nouns, some are both (garden?) Some are very (and deliberately) vague: move, music, connection. I think to aim at doing one thing in each of these petals in the course of one day would be an awesome achievement but maybe a bit stressful, if not outright exhausting. On the other hand doing only one is far from satisfying. It would be fun to create one of those spinner dials that I could spin sometime when I’m feeling at a loose end… rudderless. Although, lately, I’ve noticed that feeling a bit rudderless is really the precursor to creating something. It’s as if, like a seedling in early spring, I’m pushing, pushing up toward the light and air, struggling with the potential for becoming something.

One would think that, approaching one’s 75th birthday, one would be comfortable and certain about things—especially how to spend one’s days. But that seems to be far from my truth. I’m listening to Joni Mitchell say: “We’ll put on the day and wear it till the night comes.” Maybe that’s what I’ll do today. That’s what goes in the center of my Life Flower.