Turn the page, flip the calendar, here we are at the start of a whole new year. Resolutions–or rather the new clever term, revolutions–ugh, blah. Just try to be productive (I am currently trying, and failing), look around on the internets and you’ll see a barrage of ads and articles telling you how to living a better life, as if the one you have now is not enough.
I admit, I am a sucker for the listicle. 17 things to consider when trying to lose weight, 8 things you can do to be more awesome, etcetera etcetera. Someone, please tell me how to be happy, thin, beautiful, loved, in 21 bullet points or less please.
A friend posted one recently, 5 things you may regret at the end of your life. Maybe it was the mention of end of life or the word regret, but I clicked. And then, it clicked. Friends, this is no resolution, but it is a declaration. And a warning.
Regret #3: I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
“Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming.” — Bronnie Ware, palliative care nurse, helping patients be as comfortable as possible in the time just before their deaths.
Friends, I don’t know about you, but sometimes I get so lost in my own worry about what people will think of me, I forget how much I don’t actually, really and truly, care. Or shouldn’t care. Perhaps this is the beginning of wearing purple and getting old. Whatever it is, I’m laying it down.
Let it be known, here and now, this year forward I will express more (and fear less about what you think of me doing it). I will tell people when I see them being brave, or look great in those jeans. I shall not stay silent when you are sounding super smart, look beautiful, or have a piece of spinach in stuck your their teeth. I will show, in word and deed, my awe and wonder at the beauty of it all. I will hug your faces off. I will not limit my adoration or hide my feelings.
I will sing out.