Delightful Progress.

The year is nearly over, and I have chosen my word of the year for 2018. But before I think about that, I want to think about ways I've touched 2017's word, Delight.

Yesterday, I went to 2nd and Charles with Bruce and sorted through used books of poetry. I've gone through a fair amount of poetry lately, reading all of it aloud. Reading it aloud helps me focus and really experience the poem (even if I don't "get" it). I think that is what warmed me out of a reading freeze. I'm still struggling, but I am making progress.

Bruce bought me a bipolar-disorder-related memoir; now, we're reading it together. I want to be a serious and joyful reader. I've challenged myself to be a bold reader.

I came nowhere near my annual goal to read 52 books. But I did make it half way, 26, despite months of reading trouble. I call that progress. Reading is a delight.

I had trouble with writing too but not as much. I started a new journal on Christmas day. I'm writing in black, gold, and pink. Choosing specific colors for a journal is a delight and a motivator.

I've kept detailed "To-Do Wish Lists" (so called because I don't expect to accomplish everything on the list) to help me focus. Crossing off an item with a pen in that day's color is a delight.

This year, I think my heart has softened. I feel more loving, which is powerfully frightening and delightful. I hope that excess love has delighted someone.