I no longer make new year's resolutions. Taking my vows twelve years ago I took on a herculean task to follow the precepts, and they are enough of a life's task. Right speech alone, as you can see, requires dilligence, energy and perceptive intelligence. I struggle most with this percept, as well as telling the truth, the most. So January 1 felt like plugging away, moment by moment, to have right intention and be sensitive and careful in all my thoughts and actions. If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Little by little.
Simple chores like taking down the tree and ornaments become ceremonies, when I am aware it could be my last Christmas. Asking for help to carry the plastic bins to the basement was my right speech. I called my younger daughter and asked her and her husband if they had some time to help, and they both came over later and made a quick dispatch of about ten bins. I don't like to "bother" people, and accepting that my husband and I are older and can't do some of the things we used to is part of seeing "what is so".
I have my gratitude journal, which I write in before bed, and it colors my days with what is blessed in my life and appreciation for my life. And I sleep well perhaps because of the thoughts from the journal. Resolving to keep the journal and the precepts makes for a very full plate, and one with healthy foods on it.
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