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Over in the scrapbook/creativity/art journal/paper crafts world I also hang out in, there's a thing, a sort of new years thing, where you pick one word to make your goal/ideal/mantra for the next year.
And every year I say, GREAT! THIS IS THE YEAR OF "JOY!"
Well, as with most things I end up putting this to the side after a few weeks.
But being determined to increase the amount of joy in my life, I just ordered from Etsy a necklace, stamped with the word joy, and hung with a blue bird charm and a seed pearl. {See how books like Ballet Shoes creep into one's life and create iconic symbols?}
Might be a little early to be thinking about new years resolutions, but that's my number one: "more joy."
Number two is "tell stories."
So, let me start with a story about joy. A very little one, although apocryphal. Or something. Family lore says that when my parents were discussing baby names for me, my Dad wanted to call me Joy. Clearly this is not what my mother wanted to call me as it is not my name. What my mother wants she tends to get. As some sort of stupid compromise they did make "Jo" my middle name. Why "Joy" wouldn't have done as a middle name I do not know. But the whole thing, for some reason, has always left me rather disconnected from my own name. Like I was supposed to be a Joy, and now I'm not. In all senses of the word.
So, 2011. The Year of Joy. The year of ME. And my stories. Whether they're written, or scrapbooked, or told with splashes of paint. Or hung 'round my neck.
This entry was originally posted at http://valancy-joy.dreamwidth.org/136996.html
And every year I say, GREAT! THIS IS THE YEAR OF "JOY!"
Well, as with most things I end up putting this to the side after a few weeks.
But being determined to increase the amount of joy in my life, I just ordered from Etsy a necklace, stamped with the word joy, and hung with a blue bird charm and a seed pearl. {See how books like Ballet Shoes creep into one's life and create iconic symbols?}
Might be a little early to be thinking about new years resolutions, but that's my number one: "more joy."
Number two is "tell stories."
So, let me start with a story about joy. A very little one, although apocryphal. Or something. Family lore says that when my parents were discussing baby names for me, my Dad wanted to call me Joy. Clearly this is not what my mother wanted to call me as it is not my name. What my mother wants she tends to get. As some sort of stupid compromise they did make "Jo" my middle name. Why "Joy" wouldn't have done as a middle name I do not know. But the whole thing, for some reason, has always left me rather disconnected from my own name. Like I was supposed to be a Joy, and now I'm not. In all senses of the word.
So, 2011. The Year of Joy. The year of ME. And my stories. Whether they're written, or scrapbooked, or told with splashes of paint. Or hung 'round my neck.
This entry was originally posted at http://valancy-joy.dreamwidth.org/136996.html
