When I lost focus as a child, my mother provided a reminder.
“Take care of Monique,” she told me. “Worry about Monique.”
It was sound advice then and it is sound advice now. I didn’t always appreciate it. Mom provided reminders when I wanted to focus on what someone else was doing or something someone else had. I didn’t want to focus on me when I could have something over there or do something new. Eventually, I decided Mom was right and took care of me. It worked for a long time, until little by little, for reasons known and unknown, I stopped heeding her advice.
The result: I’ve been chasing goals instead of taking care of me.
There was a time when I really did focus on what was important, and I thrived. It sounds selfish, but it’s not. Everyone around me does not require my attention. Everything that happens around me does not require my energy. I must reserve some of that attention and energy for me.
2012 marked the 10th anniversary of Mom’s passing. It’s been 10 years since we’ve talked, argued, or laughed together, and I am amazed by how much of her is still with me.
In 2013, I will do the work I need to do, and the rest will fall into place. That’s called patience. I will believe everything will work out in the end, and it will. That’s called faith. I will focus on what’s truly important, and life will be less chaotic. That’s called balance, and I’m looking forward to it.
So long, 2012. Bring it, 2013.