Sign up for my newsletter and get a free chapter from English Lessons! Click here.

this is a page for

Browsing Tag: New Year

Read. Pray. Stretch. Breathe. Cook.

About five years ago, my therapist at the time took me outside during one of our sessions and instructed me to sit down on a step and close my eyes. “What do you hear?” she asked. “Um, cars on the road?” I said. “What else?” I listened. “Birds.” “What else?” “The wind.” This went on for a while then she asked me what I could smell. “Grass…flowers…” Then, she told me to open my eyes. She handed me a leaf. “Look at this leaf,” she told me. “Describe it to me.” I didn’t know what the purpose of…

2017.

2017. I know three things about it so far: It will be the year my first book releases. It will be the year I move home. And, I hope, it will be the year that I rest. I think above all else, 2016 made me aware of how tired I feel. I’m not sure I’m supposed to confess that sort of the thing in a New Year’s blog post, but that’s the truth. I am tired. In September this year, my dad and I attended the Harvester Island Wilderness Workshop, led by writer Leslie Leyland Fields…

2015: No More Clean Slates

The phrase “a clean slate” is kicked around a lot this time of year. People are encouraging others and themselves to forget the heartache or mistakes or tragedies of last year and begin anew. A clean slate. It sounds so crisp. So freeing. So beautiful. So…clean. But I’m beginning to wonder, is a clean slate actually possible? And even if it were, is it desirable? To start anew and forget last year, as if it never happened? I walk into 2015 dragging a heavy, messy, embarrassingly dirty slate behind me, and I think I’ve been under-appreciating…

In 2013, I Will Run

Running is not exactly a New Year’s resolution for me. I’ve been running regularly for about 11 years. I’m not fast. I’ve never run a full marathon. I don’t do sprint training or wear pretty Lululemon running clothes. But I know running’s rhythm. My body knows it. It’s familiar: slip on running shoes, turn on iPod, lock the door behind me, feet hit pavement, I’m off. I hate the first five minutes then before I know it, more minutes have passed and I’m circling home. I know running. I spent New…