So as I stumble my way out of 2015, my only real hope for next year is that it is better than this one, and my only resolution is that I make it better. Somewhere along the way, in the last twelve months, I lost the essence of who I was – who I am. I stopped writing in March. I didn’t think I had stopped; I thought I was taking a break, but nine months later and I have yet to write much of any great value since.
Of course, December 31st is an arbitrary passing of the baton from one year to the next, but it’s as good a point as any to make some changes.
…so it begins tomorrow.