by Bella Rum

The sun is coming up. Light is peeping through the trees beyond the garden. I’ve finished my first cup of coffee. Uncharacteristically, instead of a second cup, I brewed a cup of tea. I’m sure I’ll have another cup of coffee before the morning turns to afternoon.

It’s time to embark on a self improvement plan. I’ve been reading Wenda’s, Daring to Write. She started a weight loss program a few months ago and has made great strides. I’ve been following her progress. Like most long term progress, it occurs over a period of time, signified by tiny steps. Sometimes the steps are so small that there are moments when we wonder if we’re still propelled forward.

Confession to follow. I’ve done a very bad thing. I’ve allowed circumstances and stress and pressure and grief to become an excuse for allowing my health to flounder. I’ve made some very bad choices over this past year. I’m not a spring chicken. Unlike when we’re young, our bodies don’t spring back when we’ve worshiped at the alter of self neglect for over a year – as I have.

Oh, I hate this next part. It’s time to take responsibility for my sins. Woe is me. I’m looking toward the New Year with a sense of relief. It seems to be where my coordinates are set. I’m one of those millions who see the New Year as a time for renewal, second and third chances and a time for redemption in many different ways. I know that it’s an imaginary milepost and we can make our own posts any place or any time we wish, but I’ve always embraced the New Year as an opportunity for change. So, the New Year it is.

My daughter-in-law made an interesting observation. She said that I should begin walking everyday and let all interested parties know that this is my intention. She said that people would respect it if they knew that I did. Not bad advice.

Okay, now for that second cup of coffee. Moderation is not my companion. I really need to shake hands and make it my new best friend.