I see posts on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram claiming 2023 as their year. That they’re manifesting good things and positive change after what feels like decades of global trauma.
Not me, though. I’m approaching 2023 as Steve Irwin would approach a crocodile. With cautious optimism and a healthy dose of respect. Granted, Steve Irwin died on one such escapade so the metaphor is somewhat flawed. But we’re going to ignore that and focus on my point, which is that we will enter the new year as though it is a minefield that we are confident enough to navigate so long as we don’t get cocky.
The only thing I’m ‘claiming’ for 2023 is the spirit of maintenance. I’ve gotten to a solid place in my mental health. Maintaining it. I’ve gotten to the best place I’ve been with my weight in over a decade. Maintaining it. I have a great relationship with an amazing guy. Maintaining it. I’ve been paying off debt at a steady rate. Maintaining it.
That’s the energy I’m putting into the universe for the upcoming circuit around the sun and I am hoping that energy is rewarded with what I’m asking for – homeostasis.
bye for now!