I know for many people September heralds the start of something new but for me the promise of a slate wiped clean, of possibility, of potential, is always associated with the unfolding of a brand spanking new year.
New year's resolutions have long since been abandoned here in favour, in more recent years, of a guiding word to provide some sort of focus for a life simply being lived.
Yes, I have a number of small goals for the year, such as sorting out the house, reading more widely, cracking on with a writing project, learning to practise meditation, wasting less. The usual sort of stuff.
Hopefully, travel will also feature. I still have an untamed wanderlust and intend to see as much of the world as I possibly can whilst still able to place one foot in front of the other (and whilst funds permit).
Unusually, there are no definite holiday plans. I know the places I want to visit but the mister is less keen. Having said that, he's not keen on very much these days, an unfortunate fallout of an almost three year battle with depression. The lack of communication, enthusiasm and motivation is so hard to live with, for both of us, but it is what it is and I'm sure I'll carve a way through.
Which leads very nicely to my word for 2017: acceptance.
By that I mean allowing things to be as they are. Accepting that which I cannot change instead of being frustrated or critical or overwhelmingly disheartened when it doesn't. Like my body in yoga. Like the people in my life who are as they are. Like the situation my life so far has led me to. My reality.
That's maybe coming over as a bit of hippy dippy psychobabble but heck, it's surely worth a try.