More Hugs

That's my resolution for 2013, and I'm sticking to it.  

Just saying it out loud makes me smile.  Putting it into action makes me smile.  Thinking about it makes me smile.  I've not even begun the new year and I'm happy already.  I think this one may be a keeper. 

In the past, I have considered the concept of patience and I have embraced radiant health.  The former moderated my waiting-in-line behavior, the latter gave me a year without illness or injury.  The next year, in a perforated state, I was forced to do more than consider a concept and avoid the flu - I was the picture of enforced inactivity, stuck in a holding pattern with nothing to do except visualize my bones knitting together. I'm not sure they count as resolutions when there is no choice involved.

I re-read the last post of 2011; I've certainly come a long way.  I am not mired in the past, though I am still dealing with the consequences.  I am less labile, more focused, ever more pleased with the direction my path has taken.  I am ready to create more love; I've spent the last year harvesting so much of it that it seems only fair.

I've taken my cue from Ms Levine's kindergarten class.  They wrote stories about kindness which they read and then presented to me.  Their reward for all that work was the chance to give me a hug.  I sat on a little kid's chair as, one by one, five and six year old authors opined on love and caring and being kind before they turned, some shyly, some with great enthusiasm, all with real emotion, and put their arms around me.

I've said it before and I'll say it again - it is impossible to be sad when little ones are hugging you.  

As the anniversary of my intersection with bullets approaches, I find myself becoming a bit twitchy.  I'm more comfortable with the memories, and parts... some awful parts.... are coming back to me.  A year ago, I might have spent some time down the rabbit hole.  This year, I'm finding myself out and about, soliciting donations for GRIN, walking with Amster's brood, filling the holes that used to suck me down and in with hugs... and standing on top of those hugs to reach a breath of fresh air.

Sometimes, the hugs aren't physically delivered.  Sometimes, they come packaged in a door held open with a smile, or a boisterous Thank You! from a Salvation Army Santa.  I'm concentrating on giving them more than getting them, counting on the Beatles to be right about the rewards coming my way.  

Hugs are non-judgmental.  Hugs are asexual.  Hugs are a spontaneous reflection of joy or compassion or anything in between.  They are all about sending the love, and they don't require a thank you note.  They can be used to take the edge off a prickly situation, and can convey what words, at times, cannot.

Mostly, though, they feel good.  

I'm sending the first of many New Year's Hugs to you and yours, denizens, with sincere wishes for a wonderful year ahead.  After all, the sun came up this morning, and we were all here to see it. By definition, it's a good day!