Maybe its much to early in the game.

At the new year's eve service at temple, one of the rituals is the burning of one's defilements, or 'bad habits' as they gently put it. You have a piece of a paper, about 4x6 and a small golf pencil and a few minutes to write down all the things from the past year you want to let go of, send up in smoke. Last year, they started a new tradition of giving out a second piece of paper. On this one, you write down all the 'good habits' you desire to cultivate in the next year. Last year, I left my paper blank. I folded it in quarters and stuck it in my pocket and I still have it -- stuck into my 'writing altar' in the office which is basically my MFA thesis, lots of blank books, and inspirational notes on post-its. The emptiness sort of represented possibility of all the things I could and would do in 2007. It also represented the state of mind I was in, weighed down and paralyzed and trying to get rid of so much of my 'bad habits' that I couldn't even conceive of what positive aspirations I had.

This year, I wrote out my defilements and I felt like I had more jotted down than years' past, but only because I was able to write out specifically what things were bothering me, what I wanted to let go. And when it came time for the good habits, I knew right away what to right there as well, it was very clear the things I want to cultivate and do more of:

sit
write
breathe
speak
move
love

Now I'm about to drink coffee and pull out the paper journal and see the concrete 'resolutions' I made last year. I know that I did not achieve lots of them, but I'm okay with most all of it -- because I either learned something concrete about myself in why I didn't do it, or I'm okay with just adding it to the list for this year. Like learning to do a headstand.

You’re just the torch to put the flame to all our guilt and shame

It is the end of the holidays which officially means I'm ragged and ready to go back to everyday life, except the inertia of not moving is conflicting that. I'm reading This Breathing World and just now there was a passage about February and its cold and isolation and it suddenly hit me, oh isht, its nearly January 2nd which means its that period of dreary long winter months with no activities to break up the monotony. I mean, Thanksgiving/Christmas can be depressing too, in their own ways, but at least it has built in opportunities to dress up. And drink. And pass the time with travel or religious services or meals. Today, as a ritual for an auspicious year, we had black-eyed peas for good luck and sauteed spinach (greens, of sort) for good fortune and sauteed shrimp for good sex (this last one I created just today). The shrimp I made for my own plate had blackening seasoning and I hit the perfect amount and balance such that when I ate, it was my trip to New Orleans in my mouth. It might have made me cry but instead I distracted myself with the movie. We watched Hulk which wasn't too bad, actually. Then again, it came after Ride With the Devil which was overlong and tedious, so that might have affected my judgment.

Tomorrow I will go to the gym and act a little huffy in my head about how crowded it will be with New Year's Resolution makers, when really I am one of them, I just jumped on the train a few weeks early. But hopefully I will stay on it past March.

This evening, at the conclusion of our Ang Lee movie marathon, I felt like I needed to know what was going on in the outside world. I've been in a bubble for 4 days, with cleaning the house, cooking, having people over on Sunday night, going to temple last night, then vegging out and eating leftovers on the couch. It was 6 pm, and the News Hour with Jim Lehrer was on, and it made me miss being home in the evenings. For the most part, my job is working out really well, but sometimes the schedule is a pain, or at least has drawbacks. I suppose that is any work schedule though, really.

I was re-reading January 1 posts from years past and I forgot how rigorously I closely astrology, and so I went back to an old favorite site and read this. In honor of my 2001 self (because I am a Cancer and we put too much emphasis on the past, don't you know), I will post it in my journal. Behind a cut, of course.

( January forecast for Cancer, in case you are one too )

There's something so strangely comforting about the familiar language of horoscopes, with their constant talk of marriage proposals and business partnerships. Its like when I hear the church doxology and sing along without thinking about what I'm saying.