5.1.18 Sofa-bound, making wishes with stitches
I would like a wardrobe full of simple clothes I made myself, in grey and green and yellow. I would like a knife and fork and spoon made from smooth wood, and a matching bowl and plate and cup. I would use them for every meal, wash them up and dry them, and wrap them up in cloth till next time, like a Japanese monk on a mountain. I would like my house to be as neat and clean as a new pin and for everyone who enters it to exhale. I would like to use everything in it, or give away the things I don't. I would like to learn how to draw with a sewing machine and to fill the world with birds. A wren to start with, I think, and then a blackbird, then we shall see what comes out next.
I would like to have the courage to only wish for things that don't place expectations on others, and that don't expect me or anyone around me to be someone else. I would like to stop making assumptions - entirely, if possible - especially about what I think will make me happy. I would like to have a new front door the colour of sea glass and to fill the front windowbox with geraniums. I would like to leave everyone feeling a little better than they did before I found them. I would like not to take myself so seriously and to laugh no matter what that day contains. I would like to meet the unexpected with more dignity and to spend more time stroking my cat. I would like to throw away less food and take better care of my plants. I would like to spend more time just watching and to always be doing something with my hands. I would like everything I wish for to be things I could set to right away, if I chose to. Not a 'one day' in sight.
I would like to write stories.
I would like to be wilder.
I would like these wishes to represent the full and honest wishes of my heart and not harbor secret agendas that I quietly, bitterly wish for instead.
I would like to say what I mean and live what I say.
That will do for this year.