I don't remember making many new year's resolutions in my life and keeping any I remember even less. It could be either due to the lack of memory or the lack of character. I've always thought real change has to stem from something deeper than the change of date and calendar. And I'm slow - I can't implement changes that I've thought about for two days. Or a week. I need more time.

I do remember one resolution which I made a couple of years ago and where I failed miserably. I promised myself I would start writing. Something. Anything. I ended that year with a realisation I hadn't written anything. Well, I had written plenty, articles and blog posts and such, but not anything I had thought could take the form of a book one day.

This time I didn't make any resolutions but the idea that I really should start writing hasn't let go, on the contrary, it has crept closer and grown bigger. And so it felt really natural - when I realised I was going to spend the New Year's Eve at home and by myself - that I could use a nice free evening to battle my fear and feeling of inadequacy, and well, start writing. I took my laptop home from my office on the previous day, I made some tea and ate an eye-wateringly expensive chocolate (always helps with inspiration!), opened my laptop and wrote with shaking fingers some paragraphs on a topic that is very close to my heart right now. I don't know what it will turn into or whether it will turn into anything, I don't know if anyone else but me will ever lay their eyes on it. To show it to someone else requires courage I don't yet have. But I have started. It feels equally exhilarating and scary.

Yesterday after work I realised I can't write just any moment a thought crosses my mind because I usually keep my laptop at work. So I found a beautiful little golden and black notebook which my dearest A. had given me a while ago, and started scribbling my thoughts there.

If mom was still around, she'd probably smile and say nothing. When seeing a fisherman standing somewhere for hours on end or seeing anyone else doing something she didn't think was overtly meaningful, she would gently smile and say, "Well, at least they're not harmful."

So let me walk around with my golden notebook and write down my thoughts. At least I'm not harmful.

But the real reason I tell you this is that I'd be very grateful if any of you cared to ask me, say, in March (or better still, in October) how I'm doing with this writing thing. I could use some accountability. Truly.

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I would post some heartrending new year's music here but all I can think of it this. I'm sorry.

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Happy new year!