December 31, 2015. Lola’s Lakehouse.

We’ve traveled tremendous distances
across a vast abyss, to circle around a star.
It took us three hundred and sixty-five days,
only to end up where we started.
New Year’s resolutions are like this,
endless circles around who we wish we could be.
Even though the shortest distance between
who we are and what we want
is a straight line.
We circle.
We go through motions.
We compromise.
We bow to status quo.
We lose our footing.
We stop moving.
We stop being.
We stop being ourselves.

What if, instead,
we say:
“This year, I will walk the shortest distance.”

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