At the beginning of every new year I make a few promises to myself. I like to keep them simple but real. No ridiculous diets involving resisting cheese (never gonna happen) or intentions of completely changing my ways. It’s the little things that seem to effectively shift my spiritual journey anyway.
I will throw out all writing implements that are faulty in any way. It is inauspicious for a writer to hang on to that which does not write.
I will never title a blog with a listicle. I respect you too much. It’s pathetic that there’s even a word for a term intended to bait a reader for a click.
Not gonna think about making art for money. At least for this year. Granted I’m lucky to be in a position to do that. I had some success when the champagne was flowing and physical records were flying off the shelves. But I did something else: I saved. I never assumed I was going to have a hit every year. And I didn’t. Surprise surprise.
I’m going to work only with those whose company I enjoy. I don’t care how chart-exploding a rising star might be. If they’re an a**hole, I’m out. It’s toxic. It was Ok when I was young. I was learning. Youth is an excuse for so much. I know better now. Life is short. One day shorter every day.
I’m not going to partake in creating songs just because the algorithm is harmonious with a Spotify playlist. I want to be moved. Period. If I don’t wake up ‘the morning after’ yearning to hear that song again ASAP, it probably wasn’t worth writing.
I’m gonna get my album done. I don’t know what took me so long. They say that an artist has 20 years to write her first album and then 6 months to write the second. I’ve had a lot longer than 20 years to write my story so there’s plenty of material. And then I will try to get on that Spotify playlist. 😳
I will drink more water than humanly possible. My doctor told me that we lose a quart of H2O after 1 hour of talking! Yikes. No wonder I feel like a desert.
I’d like to film Confessions of a Serial Songwriter LIVE! Bruce proved the format works. My story is worth sharing although granted, it would have a slightly smaller audience. So what. Hello Netflix? Hulu?
I’m gonna update the dusty framed pictures in my office with ones that reflect my current world. I will, however, keep the one of Xtina and I as well as the one of Meredith and I filming the video of “Bitch.” These are big memories and 2 women that have changed my life for the better forever.
I’m going to try to keep my desk organized. It influences what’s going on inside my head. Messy desk, messy head.
What else? I will listen more — ask my friends what’s happening with them before I go on a rampage about me me me. I can suck the air out of any room, I know. I’m sorry.
Retail therapy: I will purchase less; invest in a few well-made garments so that at the end of the year I don’t have a closet full of dresses with price tags still attached because they’re too itchy, or too short or too tight. But they were so affordable! You get what you pay for.
Oh and, comfortable shoes, soft robes, soft jeans, soft t-shirts, soft everything. My body is thirsty for soft.
I will take inventory before I leave the house: keys, phone etc I’m gonna get on Apple Pay so if I forget my credit cards I’m good. Sunglasses check. Protein snack, Water bottle. Sweater for the market (do I sound like an old lady or what? It’s just that being cold is unpleasant and totally preventable. My wise friend Alex Forbes introduced me to a phrase from Shit Norwegians Say as we strolled Greenwich Village one snowy winter day — “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes,” Touche, Alex. If you can’t Columbia or North Face then layer up. And wear a hat.)
I will try to be more forgiving of those who don’t know any better and remember that it’s (probably) nothing personal. And even it if is (personal) I can only control what I can control.
I will watch less news. A half hour a day should catch me up. I’ll try to get my husband to watch less news too. (That’s not gonna be easy.)
I will meditate. For at least 15 minutes a day. I know how beneficial it would be to just take a chunk of time and stop moving. Reset. I’ll try. That’s the best I can do.
This is my friend Wally and his 7-month-old son Winston. It’s good to start early. It will become part of Winston’s spiritual life. He’s going to need it. (If my baby were this chill I mighta had a few more).)
There are more promises I could make to myself but if I can keep half of these, it should be a good year.
Happy New Year My friends. I hope you have one too.