There’s always some trepidation for the first post of a new year. It’s the same as when I get a new notebook and then wait for something epic to happen so I can dutifully catalogue it. It has to be amazing, or poetic or at very least symbolic  before I can justify adding it to the annals of history.

Does anyone really want to read about the first time the dog learned how to roll over in exchange for a treat? (Tho, that did happen. And the dog finds it enthralling, I’m sure)

But seriously, the first missive of 2010. The year we make contact, if one is to believe Arthur C. Clarke.  Or, if one tends to put more emphasis on a film’s tagline.. something wonderful is about to happen. I really don’t want that to sum up this year. Honestly, that seems to sum up every year for me.

Instead, I want this year’s tagline to read ‘something wonderful is consistently happening.’ Enough of this expectation of  life we’ve got going on. Crikey! Is my first blog of the year truly going to be another rehash of that live in the moment tussle I’m always having with myself? Is it okay to constantly harp on the same things as long as they remain pertinent to the day to day of existential enumeration? Could this be the year I find something new to enumerate about? Is it possible to use the word enumeration more than 3 times within the same paragraph?It would probably be easier if I could be sure that I’m using it correctly in the first place, however, considering I am too lazy to look the word up, I’ll let it stand.

Ok, so the first, the premiere, the precedent setter. January is a tabula rasa of sorts. It doesn’t matter what went down in december, because that was last year. That was 2009, the year of endings. And here we are in 2010, a year of speculative beginnings.  In some ways 2010 feels  alittle more auspicious to me, much more so than 2000 did. It seemed there was a vast difference of opinion as to when the bloody milennium started, so is it any wonder that 2000 felt a little lacking in futuristic promise? But here we are now. I must admit, I typically have some ideas of what I want to see happen in the course of  a year to come. But this year I don’t feel so much of that. I know that often it is wise to set both long and short term goals, to give something to move towards. I don’t necessarily feel up to doing that at this point. I’ve spent so much time looking forward to the places I’ll go and the people I’ll meet. But for right now, all I desire to have in my future are a windowseat on a south facing wall, a garden and a piano I can play any time I want. I want them to be all in the same domicile. Where are they exactly? Which time zone? Which latitude? Which longtitude? That part I don’t know yet. I’m in no hurry to find them. They’ll still be there in August as much as they are there now.

It could be argued that these three aspects of settled living could be found in many different places at the same time. Of course this is true, but I can only be found in one place at a time, regardless of how it feels in my head now and again.  But settled I shall be. It feels as though in past years all of my movement has been frenetic, disjointed, without concern for the next place. Only ever sure that there would be a next place. AAll of my plans have been so that I would end up somewhere, never sure where, never sure why one place was any better than another. Merely convinced that I had to find it. And now I know what to look for. I’ll know it when I see it.

It will have a garden. It doesn’t have to be the kind that grows in the ground. It could easily be a sun filled patio, with containers of all sizes, flowers adding color and scent. A night blooming jasmine, a hoya plant, passion flowers. Flowers for the sake of flowers. My garden doesn’t feel the need to be practical. Sometimes frivolity is necessary. But enough going on that I’ll be able to have my hands in dirt, wonderfully vital mucky dirt on a regular basis.

It will have a piano. An actual piano, with hammers and strings. I have nothing against electric pianos/keyboards, but there’s something about the sound of a piano that seems pure to me. 88 keys, all in accord. 88 keys that respond, even when there is no power. I can as easily play by candlelight, as not. The room is bright, the colors vivid, but not overwhelming. The windows are abundant and open to fresh, clean air. Here is where I should be careful with my manifestation. I’ve pretty much just ruled out most cities with the fresh clean air thing…How about, the windows are abundant and open to beautifully scented breezes. That seems a little more forgiving.

There will be a window seat on a south facing wall. Large enough for two people cozy. Or one person, one book, one cup of tea and a cat comfortably. The window will open out. I don’t need all of the windows in the residence to open out, but it just seems as though window seat windows should.

At this point, I’d love to put in a bid for a kitchen worthy of baking in and a bathtub…a dreamy sort of place type bathtub. It’s always important with manifestation to ask for exactly (emphasis on the exact) what you want. But I feel like this place, this magic cottage/apartment/house/tree/happy place can’t help but have an amazing kitchen and bathtub if it’s the type of place to be already outfitted with a piano, a garden and window seat in a south facing wall.

Well, as far as starts to the year goes, this one doesn’t feel too bad. It’s a quiet beginning, no determined gestures towards achievements I’ll feel like a big loser if I don’t accomplish them. No major declarations that this will be the year I find a baby, or win the lottery or become a mail order bride.
I can say that I would like music in my life. I would like good food, good friends, sunsets and risings, both of sun and fresh baked bread, shaped into loaves by my hands. I would like to sit on a surf board and feel the shape of a wave underneath me, hear the sea whisper her secrets. I would like to be aware of seasons changing. I would like to hear cats purr. And so I will do all these things. And not just this year.

It doesn’t have to be monumental to affect us, after all. In fact, I think often it’s the little things that do the most, but the changes are so slight that we might not notice so readily. Perhaps this is the year we do. Make contact, that is.