I had big plans for 2019.I had big plans for 2019.
I'd wake up before the sun batted an eyelash and I'd go for really long walks, and let myself have really long cries and brainstorm sessions about the direction of my life and call up old friends and blabber on and on with them until it was 8am and then I'd come back up, gulp a green smoothie, get settled in and tackle my to-do list, pausing to get my 10,000 daily steps in and eat the kind of healthy meals you find in cookbooks and fold down the corners.
But you want to know what happened?
Well, not that.
I've done 99% of everything I swore I wouldn't do in 2019. I signed up for workout classes and crawled back into bed instead of going. I ate pizza twice a day, for six days straight. I spent too much quality time with my email. I sulked in bed until my alarm clock threatened to call for back-up. I didn't write in my brand new gratitude journal, not even for a day.
Everyone talks about how a new year is supposed to be for so many new things and so we make lists and promises and twirl around saying things like, "This year is my year!" and "Thank, u next!" and "New year, new selfie." And then the pressure catches up to us and we start to realize that big changes don't happen with big proclamations. They just don't. They happen because we make tiny, little, itty bitty, practically invisible, un-Instagramable changes.
I've done 99% of everything I swore I wouldn't do in 2019. The 1% thing I've done differently, I've really truly done, is try to find a way to laugh myself out of bed in the morning. I'm looking for more ways to not be the punchline of life. I'm looking at more ways to laugh at things that would normally get me down.
And so every morning, as I lie in bed and think about how nice it would be to get up, tie my shoes, and go for a walk, I find a way to laugh. I find a way to laugh instead.
There you go, baby step. There you go.