The house is clean, my exercise goal met, lagkagen stands at the ready – Happy birthday, sweet Theadora – and as 2018 runs slowly out, I think of the year to come. A year where I will turn 39. A year where Augustine will enter kindergarten. Where we will travel as far away as Taiwan to teach and learn. Where perhaps another book will be written. A year that beckons for a word to describe it. And so like in the past, I choose a word to help me focus as the year opens up and daily life returns.
More love, even when it is snuck in small moments and through small gestures.
More relaxation. Augi already asks me if we will go to the pool every day this summer.
More moments to sit quietly.
More moments to feel good.
More “I love you’s” and ” I like you’s.”
More thank you’s.
And even more vegetables.
More opportunities to say yes to and if no is said it is because it stood in the way of another more.
But also knowing that more does not mean all. That more does not mean unlimited. That more does not mean sacrificing my family to be more for others. But the type of more that comes with paying attention. With care. With a positive outlook that allows us to look back and realize that we already have so much and that what we really need to do is to realize it.
To give more when it matters. To know when to say no, more. To know when others should have the chance to be more, to be an ally more.
More for the good of others.
And so I wish you more, to quote the incredible Amy Krouse Rosenthal. More of what you need, not what you don’t.
Thank you for giving me more.