A different way to start the New Year

Sometime in October I got scooped up in a so­cial whirl that kept me go­ing from birth­day parties to con­certs, dinner’s out and more day after day. That ended in mid-December when I headed south to spend two weeks cel­eb­rat­ing the hol­i­days with family.

So much fun! So much good food! And it was won­der­ful to spend time with fam­ily and friends! But, of course, the busier I got, the less time I had for writ­ing. Each week I thought that would change but it didn’t. By the time I flew home on the last day of 2025, I was ready to get back to work.

The last leg of my jour­ney was delayed for hours due to a thick shroud of fog draped over Vancouver Island. When the plane fi­nally touched down in Comox, I was giddy with re­lief. I just wanted to get home and back to “my real life.”

The cab dropped me off at 12:10 a.m. on New Year’s Day. As I stepped into the near black­out of my front door, I felt some­thing sub­stan­tial, yet squishy, un­der my feet. My im­me­di­ate thought was dead an­im­al.

I fumbled for the small flash­light I’d at­tached to my keyring. I didn’t find it but did man­age to open the car trunk and ac­tiv­ate the car alarm. Looking around at all the dark win­dows in my com­plex, I giggled and called out “Happy New Year!”

When I fi­nally got in­side and was able to shed some light on the mat­ter, the dead an­im­al turned out to be a large wreath someone had left on my door­stop. What a relief!

I love the New Year and the op­por­tun­ity it of­fers for big dreams and in­tro­spec­tion. I usu­ally spend about an hour plot­ting out what I want to ac­com­plish in the up­com­ing months.

I fully in­ten­ded to do that when I woke up the first morn­ing of 2026. But both my body and brains said no. I was tired, so de­cided to wait a day be­fore dash­ing off a list of projects.

The next day’s re­peat re­bel­lion of body and brain made me real­ize my en­ergy bank was empty. I de­cided to give my­self a couple of days to recover…which stretched into a week!

I ate and slept when I wanted, puttered, went for sol­it­ary walks in the woods and, aside from a few short emails and texts, com­mu­nic­ated with no one.  I was sur­prised to find it not bor­ing but relaxing.

When I did sit down to form­al­ize what I want to ac­com­plish this year, I spent a few minutes con­sid­er­ing what gave me en­ergy in 2025 and what drained it.

The an­swers were ob­vi­ous: en­ergy and joy came from writ­ing, tai chi, mu­sic, and spend­ing time in nature and with fam­ily and friends. The drains: too many ap­point­ments and too much socializing.

I love hav­ing fun with friends and fam­ily but, as a writer — and in­tro­vert — I also need alone time. I ad­ded “fix the teetertot­ter” to my 2026 list. I’m not cut­ting out any so­cial activ­it­ies out, just mak­ing sure there’s more balance.

And you know what? I found my mini-re­treat so be­ne­fi­cial, I ad­ded it to the list too.

Top photo by Rick James

Bottom photo by Dodie Eyer