Time to Begin or Time to Not

It's officially a new year, which can be daunting when you've spent the past two weeks with hardly a clue as to what day it is, what time it is or whether those things matter at all. If those things really don't matter, then you can eat dessert at any time without needing to think of more practical things like a proper meal first.

Or mulling the Big Things like what you're doing with your life in The New Year. There's a lot of pressure to start something (that book you're always talking about!), to set new goals for yourself and then IMMEDIATELY on January 1st begin working to attain such goals.

Much like the snail I slowed down to watch for five minutes in the midst of a Georgia hike on a gorgeous December something day that was 70+ degrees, I briefly considered, as the snail poked it's head out of its cozy little shell, all the things I wanted to accomplish in The New Year.

This is how it went:

• Self-publish my first book, THE MOON SPINNER

• Wonder if there is any point to self-publishing when I am no one with zero social following and less than zero desire to build a large social following

• Finish up the re-write of THE ETERNAL NIGHT SOIREE and reivisions for MIDSUMMER HAUS

• Query once those manuscripts are ready

• Face rejection

• Keep going

• Plot at least 1 new book (Beauty & The Beast but Beauty murders the Beast?)

• Does anyone want to read anything I write?

• Does it matter if they do?

• Probably start SWANN'S WAY because lofty goals be damned

The cute little snail, hopefully, had no idea the spiraling crisis it induced by merely poking its head out of its shell to enjoy some sun and forage for...whatever snails eat. I wouldn't want to put that on a snail, anyway, but it did make me wonder why we put all this pressure on ourselves in the very first days, weeks and month of a new year.

When. it's still winter, we're sleepy from all the time off and significant amount of mashed potatoes consumed between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Wouldn't it be better if we just...didn't begin something new? If we just relished in small, comforting hobbies to ease ourself into the New Year with grace?

I'm normally all in on a to-do list, but something about not having one feels nice, for once. I can still write, work on my pages, but I can also paint furniture or sew or feed the birds brave enough to land on my mitten in the bird sanctuary.

And, I can still blog, which despite this being an entire rambling post about not wanting to do things is something I enjoy and got a little away from last year. Where else can I ramble without an end in sight?

So, catch me here when I'm here, hopefully at least once a week. And, more importantly, catch Beatrix Bobbit who is dying to tell you about what Mr. Bobbit did with the Twelfth Night cake she baked.

Hope the end to your 2025 was wonderful, wishing you a slow, cozy and comforting January! Oh, and speaking of ramblings, please watch THE SECRET GARDEN if you haven't in a long time. It was incredibly beautiful and had 0 CGI which is the opposite of coziness.

Sarah :)