New Year’s Resolutions
by Ella Risbridger
I want to eat better; eat five-a-day and more raw and drink more water. I want to drink eight cups of water a day and some more at night. I want to cook delicious things and I want to eat only delicious things and not mind when I only really want a horrible cheap pizza because sometimes that’s fine too. I want to walk more. I want to cycle more. I’ve a beautiful bike and it’s a shame not to use it: I want to cycle to the park. We’ve a beautiful park and it’s a shame not to use it. I want to find the way to cycle to college. I want to cycle to college and to the station and to Sainsbury’s. I want to be outside more.I want to be inside less. I want inside to be more like outside.
I want to put herbs on my windowsill and grow tomatoes and chilli. I want to always have flowers in the house. I want the flat to be beautiful. I want to be more organised with the laundry and the washing-up and I want to paint the bedroom and change the kitchen lights and paper the back wall of the sitting-room with maps.
I want to clear the desk and make it mine; I want a space to write in. I want to write more. I want to be more disciplined with what I write and how I write and how I learn to write. I want to learn to write better poems and I want to learn to write better stories and I want to learn how to write better essays. I want to be able to write properly again. I want to work hard. I want to work at things for college and things for me and things for other places, too. I want to show other people things. I want to learn. I want to be able to learn. I want to be able to know. I want to never be tired of looking for new things and new ideas and new ways. I want not to be tired without cause; I want only the good kind of good-work-done tired. I want to be able to look for new things and new thoughts. I want to be well again. I want to do all these things so I can be well again.
I want to be well again and I want be happy. I want to be happy. I want to take stock of my good things. I want to number my fortunes and hold them up to the new kitchen lights to see them shine. I want to take those shining fortunes, shining people and tell them you made this better; I want to love them better and be kinder and wiser.
I want to do more good things for people I love and I want to do more good things for people I don’t love and I want to do good things for strangers; I want to help, because I am helped; I want to love, because I am loved.
I want to love lots. I want to love more. I want to be better at loving and better at giving and better at taking. I want to take help and not mind that I’m taking it. I want to take love and not question it. I want to take time and think I’m worthy of both my own and other people’s. I want love and help and time and I want adventures.
I want small adventures in the kitchen and big adventures on planes and strange adventures in graveyards. I want beautiful adventures with my typewriter and my favourite people and finding out good new things and doing good walking and good eating and good exploring and I want to look up, somewhere in those adventures, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point
if this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.
I want to notice when I am happy and I want that to be often. I want to be happy in my body and in my mind and both at once, and even more than that I want it to be okay also when, sometimes, I am not. I want to be able to recognise that sometimes people are sad and sometimes people are tired and sometimes people are ill and in that also recognise that sometimes, also, people are brilliant.
I want to try all these things and not mind if I fail. I want to learn to lose gracefully. I want to learn how to know when I am beaten. I want to know when to lose a battle to win the war, and I want to learn not minding losing the war so long as I have the people I love and the words that I write and the little things I love so much. I want to remember that laundry in a heap by the washing machine and the whooshing sound of deadlines don’t mean that everything is over; I want to learn proportion. I want to find a balance.
I want to find balance.
And also, I want to be the sort of person who can eat a croissant without getting crumbs in her scarf.
Are those possible? I think those are possible. They might not be, but I can bloody well try.