What can you do in a year?
Learn a language. Birth a human being. Milk the art of quizzing. Reacquaint yourself with an instrument long forgotten. Raise a puppy. Fall in love. Read. Write.
I have tried to do as much of the latter as possible. It was a year ago that I wrote my first ever post, which would eventually become this newsletter. I thought it would be a good way to keep in touch with people I didn't see often: former clients, contacts, friends, collaborators… Little did I know that it would replace face-to-face contact entirely.
I'm not sure if it's habit, determination or indeed the pandemic that's kept this newsletter going for a whole year. My suspicion is that it's something more profound than that. A desire to connect, to build bridges, to forge a way where there was none.
What could it be? What could be more rhythmic than habit, more compelling than determination and a lot more pleasant than the pandemic? It's you, my dear, that has kept the words flowing.
For sticking with me week after week, for giving my thoughts and ideas your time and attention over and over again. Without you, there wouldn’t be a newsletter.
So let's raise a mug of something hot to the words, to being one step closer to spring, and the power and persistence the small act of writing – and reading – embody.
Here's to you
To you, who is a new reader, welcome and thank you for jumping on board. I hope you'll feel at home here.
To you, who has been around since the beginning, I salute you. You were there when 'one day' became 'day one'. Thanks for sticking with it.
To you, who reads my newsletter week in, week out, I thank you kindly. It's good to know that there's someone out there in the woods who hears the trees that I fell.
To you, who shares your thoughts in comments on my posts, thank you for your generosity.
To you, who takes the time to show your appreciation with a click on the little 'heart' button, I'm grateful.
To you, who, when we speak, still talks about the newsletter that I sent six months ago, my sincere thanks. You've no idea how much that makes me smile.
To you, who texts and tells how my ramblings reflect your week, I doff my cap. The reminder that these words have a life with you too is humbling.
To you, who emails back your own thoughts, responses, and random musings, a thousand thanks. You remind me that we're in a conversation; physically separated, socially distanced, yet connected through words.
When there are no handshakes, no three-dimensional smiles, no tangible atmosphere, words are even more important.
Long may your words matter,
The Weekly Writing Reflection
Each week I share an inspirational quote and a writing prompt. The idea is for you to spend a moment doing some active reflection through writing.
Here’s your quote for this week:
“Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
And your writing prompt:
Today is the best day of the year, because…