they say that how you end the year is how you will see the year.  perhaps we can also say that how one begins the year is how one will live the year.

i think about my first week of 2013 to date: walking the surf coast trail from torquay to jan juc then onwards to bells beach … red wine … coffee on the esplanade … new year’s day with my creative revival … table talk with some pretty cool folk … a 43 km cycle from jan juc to queenscliff spanning an oceanic view to flat rural farmland to a horseback riding trail to small town suburban sprawl.  on the way home a 57km ride along the peninsula then tackling giant mount martha, quite a steep beaut tis she. 

a new year, not a bad start at all i reckon.

i have fallen once already (literally).  there have been some momentary tears (shockingly).  and a second of self-doubt (confusingly).  but of course, i bounced back with euphoric enthusiasm for the year that will be; the woman i will be.  ambitions (in lieu of resolutions) all-encompassing culminate at a delicious delicatessen raw ingredients while sipping on a carrot ginger juicy.  ah, sweet savoury bliss.

i leave an anonymous notecard behind hoping someone will find it, digest my words.  the humble hope that a message from a stranger will instill. 

so now sitting on a ferry with sailboats all around me, i breath in the fresh salty sea air and in writing this i come to realise that it isn’t necessarily how you end the year or how you start a new one that matters.  rather, it truly is how you begin and end each day that counts … and all the beautiful moments you live in between.

“for last year’s words belong to last year’s language … and next year’s words await another voice.”

(t.s. eliot)