Love and Hope float...

...like balloons over Carnaby Street

London, December 2009

You may (or may not) have noticed that things have been a little quieter in this space of late. I've been inclined to post less frequently and I'm aware that I've been out and about visiting in the blogosphere a little less than usual too.

Part of this is the result of the last minute dash at work that always seems to find us running especially fast to meet the yes-we-know-we've-left-it-all-year-but-now-with-only-weeks-to-go-we-really-HAVE-to-have-it-please requests that seem to pour in to my team at this time of year. At least, most come with a please attached, not all. Many of these could probably wait now until the New Year but we always do what we can to support as many as we can before things slow down over the holidays. I understand the desire to check things off an annual to-do list and am only too happy to facilitate this if I'm able to. It does mean lots and lots of to-ing and fro-ing across the country though, for me and my lovely colleagues. And that means little energy to do much else except flake out when I get home afterwards. I hate it when life seems to pass in a blur like this and I hardly have time to draw breath but I know it won't be for too much longer (although... haven't I been saying that almost all of this year?!) Either way, I am soooooo looking forward to those holiday rest days... even my trusty little wheelie case popped a wheel last week as if to say, "Enough!"

Another part of it is that I have been feeling especially introspective and insular. Winter does that to me. Some people are energised by the cold, seem to enjoy socialising more, and find plenty to do during the long evenings... but that's not me. While there are many, many things I find to love about winter (most of which have to do with getting and keeping warm - open fires, hot chocolate, wholesome soups, snuggly blankets, layers of hats and scarves and gloves...) my instinct is actually to curl into a little ball, tuck my head under my bedcovers, and wait for it to pass. At this time of year, about an hour after it's pitch dark outside, no matter what the time, I want to go to bed. At the moment that makes bedtime (ideally) about 4.30pm for me. And I don't want to wake up until it's light again either. Properly light, not that half-light, grey-light that passes for daylight most days. Hibernation I believe this is called. Sounds very sensible to me. Of course, I can't give in to this (and my friends and family don't allow me to become too reclusive either) but some days it's very hard not to. I miss the light. Whenever my next big move, please, please, someone remind me that somewhere even a fraction closer to the Equator would be a good idea. Please.

Anyway, it's not all run, run, run, sleep, sleep, sleep, gloom, gloom, gloom around here.

Just like those gorgeous balloon decorations that were floating cheerfully over Carnaby street when I was there last week (against a rare glimpse of wintery blue sky), I feel there are things surfacing that make me hopeful for the months to come.

I've come to terms with the fact that this year has been a slow one and that not many things have been crossed off my lifelist, or everything off my 2009list (actually I was surprised I could count off as many as I did, which was great), so I'm hoping for a better year leading up to my next bunch of candles. My lifelist is a dynamic thing but my annual lists (I have a section for each of my alter-egos) are something I try to complete every year. I don't like incomplete annual lists but this year I'm cutting myself some slack. And just rolling things that still feel important over to the 2010list. Goal gurus everywhere groan. I hear them. I get it. But. My list, my rules.

So, with several rollovers it's an already substantial 2010list but I've gone ahead and added some more ideas for next year anyway. Mostly more fun stuff. Amongst others, new additions include:

• find a swing and swing on it as high as I can
• eat slightly less chocolate (and slightly more fruit)
• fly a kite
• write a proper outline for my first book
• start writing the book
• walk on a beach (more than twice in the year)
• grow something from a seed
• sleep under the stars
• restart pilates classes (and stick with them)
• cuddle my niece and nephews (actually, spend as much time with as many people I care about as I possibly can, although not all at the same time)
• walk or run for a good cause (raising awareness and hopefully some funds to donate)
• read some poetry again
• write some poetry again
• watch a consecutive sunset and sunrise (preferably over water)
• plan a sabbatical for 2011/2012
• volunteer again (regularly)
• eat three things I've never tried before
• catch a train to somewhere in the UK I've never been before (and spend some time exploring it)
• learn a new skill or two just for fun (mehndi painting appeals)
• document the times I listen to my intuition and the outcome of doing so
• enjoy an English High Tea (in the company of a friend)
• dance often (if not daily)
• and...

...when it gets dark and gloomy, turn on the lights.

p.s. I LOVE Lisa's idea for an alternative to a list. She's full of great ideas that lovely one! Perhaps I should add to my lifelist for this coming year, "abandon lists"? Something to think about for sure. In the meantime, I'm thinking of these new things on my list as new balloons in my bunch - starry, daisy-strewn, heart and rainbow balloons with love, hope and joy written on them.