The end of 2021 is upon us. There is a melancholy relief woven into every December. It is a month of anticipation, cool breezes, promises made and broken by weather and loved ones, and most of all, of endings and the whisper of beginnings knocking on our doors. 

I have met the end of December with gratitude and joy, with heart-wrenching sorrow and disdain, and with fragile dreams of a new year that will be kind to me in the ways that matter. This year ended with a vicious heartache— the reopening of an old wound that has left lasting scars over decades. This year, like every other year, I’ve spent most of my time trying to find the path to healing. I can’t say that I was more successful this year than I was in any other, but on the world turns and on too must I tread. 

While 2021 has ended in sorrow, and the majority of it was spent in various states of anxiety, there were moments of joy and accomplishment. I’ll list the highlights of my 2021 below:

~I passed my B1 German exam.

~I finished writing and editing my chapbook.

~I started two volunteer positions with literary magazines that I enjoy.

~I read 80 books (out of the 75 book goal that I set for myself).

~I submitted my work 90 times to various publishers and literary magazines (from a goal of 23). 

~I wrote at least 500 words each day for NaNoWriMo and ended the month with 17,367 words.

~I received my first ever Best of the Net nomination. 

~I had eleven publications accept my work and give my poems (and photograph) a home.

~I co-founded and launched a literary magazine with Terri, called The Hyacinth Review. 

~I visited new places, got to see old friends, and meet new ones in person for the first time. 

~I bound my own book for the first time, which was something on my bucket list. 

~I went sleighing for the first time. 

~I started therapy in Germany, which is an important step on my healing journey. 

~I started really painting again and began to build a portfolio. 

~I accomplished nine of my thirteen New Years resolutions for 2021. 

Looking over the list, it reminds me that even within one of the rawest years of my life, there were still embers of happiness to be found. 

Every year I create resolutions for the coming year. I know that many people say that they don’t seem to mean anything, but to me, they serve as a guide and remind me throughout the year what I valued and sought at the beginning. It helps keep my life in perspective.

So below I will include my 2022 New Years Resolutions:

1. Remember gratitude.
2. Continue healing and don’t give up.
3. Be more honest with myself about what I want from life. 
4. Take care of myself— mind, body, spirit. 
5. Live more sustainably and consciously. 
6. Start (paid) work that I enjoy. 
7. Begin learning another language.
8. Work at learning to play an instrument. 
9. Try medication to manage my mental illnesses. 
10. Make more time for creative pursuits: writing, drawing, painting, singing, etc. 
11. Engage more frequently and in more meaningful ways with friends and loved ones. 
12. Read more books than last year (80+)
13. Submit to more publications than last year (90+)
14. Participate in NaNoWriMo— solidify a first draft of a novel.
15. Publish my chapbook or another collection of poetry. 

I will end this post as I always do, with some poetry bits written over the course of the last month:

In the midst of loving you my heart cried out/ I thought it was worship or orgasm, but no/ it was keening./ So long I looked for the wound./ I tore myself asunder, but the banshee in my chest cavity/ went on screaming into many lonely nights. 

She was me once, now I am a sand dune/ or a half forgotten dream still smeared on her pillow. 

From the bones to the myth that chokes me/ I am devoured by any and every thought of you.

I am wishing you all a kind, successful, and happy new year.

Love, Ari