Weeks one and two didn’t count. I can do better.
I will do better.
I will be inspired by the love in my home.
I will start 2025 tomorrow.
I have two kittens. They are brothers.
They keep me up most nights.
In the morning, I will wake up grateful.
I will avoid the urge to ask the universe for 5 more minutes.
I will get up and get dressed. I will do school drop-offs. I will go to work. I will smile.
But before I begin the day’s tasks,
I will watch fondly as my sleepy kitties climb into my warm bed.
They will do a little kitty dance as they snuggle into a furry twisted pretzel.
They are so cute.
I will avoid the urge to get another.
I will read a book. A real book.
Not a cute one with rhymes and pictures.
One with pages that have “that” smell.
My bookshelves are lined with books like that, and I promised each one that I would be back.
I haven’t been back.
I will avoid the urge to collect more things that I cannot commit to.
I will make time to get lost in a story.
I will go on adventures with my mind and make up for the ones I have missed with my body.
My body.
I will love my body. No. I will fall madly in love with my body, with myself.
I will heal. I will heal my soul. I will heal my children.
My children.
Wild and tenacious. They are relentless.
Full of kindness, wonder, and good.
And goldfish crackers.
I take that back. They never get full. They always want more.
I will give them more.
More giggles, more games, more time, more love, more food.
I will pay more attention. I will watch them. I will observe.
Laughing, fighting, playing, and messing.
Chaos.
But I WILL NOT YELL. My mother yelled. I am not my mother.
I will help them clean up their messes, I will make their bed, I will tuck them in.
I will read them one of those cute books with rhymes and pictures.
Three if they ask.
I will join them for a snuggle until they are peacefully sleeping.
They are perfect.
I will avoid the urge to have another.
I will try to fill the next Thirty-One Million Two Hundred and Forty Thousand Seconds of our time with love.
With goodness and wholeness. With warmth.
I will appreciate the madness that is my life.
That I have created.
And if for a moment, under all the pressure, I lose sight of that,
I will avoid the urge to implode.

Round and Round I go on a carousel
For years its been
Now the cycle stops
Where there is room for mountains to grow
New opportunities to arise
For new ways for everything
Making new friends
Meeting new people
Starting from the same roots
But different colors and petals
Most importantly setting boundaries
with the people that mean the most
Positivity for the mind and soul
For the strength the waves give you
Pushing you until there is no more
Not letting disappointment be at the top of the ladder

A new year upon us-two zero, two five,
I wake up refreshed, feeling sharp and alive.
What are my hopes and my dreams for the year?
Goals, aspirations, in all I hold dear.

Pen in hand, paper waiting, ready to write,
No doubts in my mind, no ‘if’, ‘maybe’, ‘might’.
This year will be different, this year I’ll succeed,
In fulfilling my aims, follow-through with the deed.

Arise early each morn, a smile on my face,
Greet my hubby with coffee and a loving embrace.
Our union prevails, my soulmate for life,
I’ll pay more attention, eliminate strife.

Tackle my chores with a positive mien,
Approach them with purpose, keep everything clean.
Purging and tidying, structure to all,
Things in their places, the big and the small.

Reign in on the hoarding, collecting, and such,
Shoes, books, and trinkets, too many, too much.
Curb my impulsive purchasing way,
Consider the need before I hit ‘pay’.

I’ll watch what I eat, keep it healthy and smart,
Limit the food that’s not good for my heart.
Drink more water, lay off of the booze,
Exercise daily, a few pounds to lose.

Cut out the cookies, the donuts, the chips,
They all can attest to the growth of my hips.
Self-control is the answer, I’ll do it, I will,
When my tummy is growlie, with veggies I’ll fill.

Try out some yoga, for body and mind,
Meditation and stretching to help me unwind.
Daily walks in the park with my pooches in tow,
Content tails wagging, eyes all aglow.

Appreciate nature, the stars in the sky,
The wind in the trees, the birds as they fly.
The crispness of winter, the promise of spring,
Summer sun urging plants, autumn harvest to bring.

Treat others with kindness, all judgement forsake,
Talk less, listen more, be real, not fake.
Be true to myself, identity strong,
Don’t believe those who tell me I’m wrong.

Now last, but not least, my family, my kin,
Cherish old memories, new ones begin.
Spend more time together, share stories and dreams,
Both laughter and worries, minute or extreme.

I’ll follow the map of the goals I’ve laid out,
I’m determined and focused, know what it’s about.
It’s me, but I’m better, if I stick to my trail,
The challenge is real, I know I won’t fail.

Another turn around the sun has begun
And I must greet it with gratitude and ambition.
Can I make my fortieth round worthwhile?
With enough effort, luck, and gumption… perhaps.

First, I’ll quit the habit
Of sucking toxins into my lungs,
The smoke so unappealing
To my dear loved ones.

Second, I’ll sleep soundly,
So as to follow the sun,
Arising in the dewy dawn
And dreaming under the moon.

Third, I’ll train my brain
To stay sane and focus,
Focus on the words of each page,
One after another until I’ve completed a book.

Fourth, I will grab that pay,
Earned fairly and duly with grit,
In a position only I could play
For my gifts will finally be seen.

Lastly, I’ll return to the wilds,
With all my needs on my back,
Traversing mountains and rivers,
Curling down nightly into the earth.

Imagine what could be with these goals achieved.
All the good – and not just for me.
A stronger body and a stronger mind
Will contribute endless gifts to society.

promises and good intentions,
all made in wintertime
will find the spring, then
summer heat,
and autumn’s cooling breeze
then wintertime and promises
that either came to stay or
faded when the gold June moon
seemed tethered tight
and goals had half a year
to come to stay in place

so just this year…

I will set aside the rules and lists
of what I need to do, and
will instead allow the things
I want to do to take their
place in hours where chores
have had their way with me
for decades past their usefulness
I hope to celebrate the days I live
and not what I accomplish
for when I’m gone, who will care that
my laundry was always done?

Dear Unsealers,
An acrostic poem about my goals for 2025.

Looking ahead to this next year
I strive to be more present and
Value and appreciate the good, the bad, and the mundane
Each day is a new opportunity to learn and grow
I want to take more leaps, without being afraid
Not worry about what other people think, or things that have not happened
Take my time, and stop rushing from place to place
Have more fun and laugh even more
Enjoy the little things and savor…
Moments with my family, friends, and pets
Opportunities to bring joy to others, and…
More time alone, for self-care and self-reflection
Each day I hope to embrace a little change
Not stress about anything trivial and…
Truly remember that each day is a gift

Dear Unsealers….

Dreams bloom from behind the pages,
Whispers of stories through life’s stages.
Words take root, their branches spread,
Revealing dreams merely stuck in my head.
The author inside, bold and true,
A world of wonder unfolds as each new story blooms,
With words that shine and visions clear,
Inspiring hearts far and near.
From quiet corners to center stage,
I’ll write my name in history’s page.
With every step, my light will grow,
A beacon for others, the path I’ll show.
A sought-after speaker, strong and wise,
My voice will soar, inspiring countless lives.
With courage and passion brightly shown,
I’ll show the world how much I’ve grown.

Hours fading while my desire continues commiserating

I will wipe away the cobwebs in my mind to see what I might find

Putting down the phone to discover the unbeknown

Facing a challenge of the heart, mind, and soul, that is how I’ll roll

They say that it’s too late for you, but that won’t change what I’ll do

There is no substitute for hard work, will, and a positive attitude

Write, write, and write some more, that is the only solution for sure

Rejection is the expected, but it will not get me dejected

Need to secure an agent, though I will need to be patient

Win a contest or two, feedback will help me get a clue

Land a million-dollar fee, they don’t know I’d do it for free

I’ll even try to write a poem and maybe take my first award home

GOALS ARE FOR SUCKERS.

Who cares?

They won’t exist long enough for me to achieve them.

The world changes too quickly for me, and many of us, to reasonably keep up with.

How many professions and passions have been rendered out-of-date in the last two decades? In the last 10 years?

The planet is literally and figuratively on fire.

Every goal I have ever had has been ripped from my hands by the greed of those who would rather see an imaginary number rise in their digital wallets than actually make life easier for the NPCs stuck in their world of worker bots.

Except those bots are people.

People who need food that isn’t poison

And water than isn’t poison

And homes that aren’t poison.

And you know what?

Fuck it.

My Goal this year is to become everything they so desperately wish to rip from my person.

My goal is the health they deny me with disabling policies.

My goal is the community that politicians and lobbyists and the oligarchical corporations continually and strategically fracture.

My goal is to live when systems would rather have us die than become unproductive.

My goal is to exist for the love of my fellow person, and myself, and for the spite of everything else that would dictate we should not do exactly that.

Movable joints, as if freshly greased.
My elbows and knees will move easily while I watch Sunsets in the East.
Silver shafts peak through honey brown, as if touched by a wand.
My hair will be healthy and shine even if I once was blonde.
Adrenaline shifts down to lower gears, even grinding to a halt.
My anxiety will melt away as I drink a strawberry malt.
Numbers steadily climb as they reach heights never dreamt of.
My bank account balance will stay full like the belly of a content dove.
Floating high into the clouds, light as a feather.
My heart will pitter patter as I read countless love letters.
Gravity bends light, and one can see for miles from atop the tallest mountain.
My pride will exude for my child from every cell as if it’s a perpetual fountain.
Spears, bullets and missiles soar through the atmosphere yet are deflected.
My armor will hold steady, and my inner peace will be protected.
Wood, stone, and concrete form a cocoon around a soft and warm oasis.
My heart will be content, as I learn to be satisfied with life’s basics.
Bombs diffuse as ancient frequencies encompass all that exists.
My ultimate wish comes true as I learn to surrender to life and simply no longer resist

Dear 2025,

Every written moment has been a golden one. One of those moments had me realize I am a person who has a chance at an opportunity for change. To shift in the way I view how I accept the things that I can change. To find the courage to accept that there are things about myself that I cannot change. Do I want to change those things? I think so, I don’t know, maybe. I don’t know what the future holds. I am ready for change though. I’ll need some time to think about what I’ve said, 1/3/2025.

I’ve self-reflected, and I’ve concluded that I know there are things I can change. Things that I want to change about myself. What are those changes? I have to think it over, 1/10/2025.

I slept on it. There’s two things I’d like to change. One. To give my community and the rest of the world an opportunity, through my writing, to see my world in a way that no one else can. To dedicate and commit my hands to the craft of interpreting what my eyes see and feel, so the rest of the world can see it as well. Two. An opportunity to make myself available for those I love. An opportunity to share my life with family and friends. To make memories that will last a lifetime. Gifted by those that enjoy the work I’m now doing with my hands. That’s all I got for now, 1/13/2025.

A third thing I’d like to add that I know I can commit to. To use my hands, those that are dedicated to the craft, to continue writing and change the world one written letter at a time. A written letter that spells out an opportunity for those that don’t see what I see. A written letter that shows the rest of the world the struggle my community faces. A written letter that shows the rest of the world the people that my community builds. Hands that make the world a better place, a place worth living. A place worth exploring. A place worth learning from. A place worth building a family in. A place worth building traditions in. A place, worthy of calling home, 1/15/2025.

From a person who embraces the journey of change, and accepts the unchangeable.

A friend told me today that she would love to make soup for James Baldwin in the great beyond. She is known for wanting to cook soup for those she adores. She said something similar when Timothée Chalamet was at the U; she also wanted to knit him a sweater. I can picture her in her kitchen chopping chicken and stanzas and pouring in hot broth with haikus. Her comment made me wonder who I’d make soup for. Who would I give my ladle of love and lust to? Do they deserve my sautéed stories? My strained stories? My stories of fresh tomato soup and grilled cheese? Are my words worth their appetite? Is this why I write? To feed the mouths of those who are starved and deprived of nourishment from a creatives garden? Yes. Because there is someone out there who needs a bowl of my soup. To slurp through their reality and feel the warmth of words slide down their throats. For now, I will make soup for myself. I think I need it the most.

This is the year.

The year I let moss grow over my feet.
The year I bathe in the clouds as they kiss the ground.
The year I stretch my fingertips to tickle sun beams.
The year I sleep in the cradle of stars as they whisper lullabies.
The year I let raindrops dance around my smile.
The year I paint over my scars with dandelion wishes.

This is the year:
The year I inhale peace and exhale you.

When I ask the most intricate parts of myself what is the goal, they respond in the most sweetest and saddest way. “Lauryn you can either expand, be complacent or smaller”. Will this year be better the same or worse? I would most certainly love for the goal to be me expanding so wide there’s only room for the things that will benefit me. Expanding the uncomfortableness so much it pops into extraordinary memories that’s so vivid I can truly see. Doing things only the childhood Lauryn imagined. Don’t die Lauryn stay alive. That has always been the ultimate goal. When the pain is overwhelming me with doubts and fears of abandonment, confusion, control your emotions so they don’t swallow you whole. Let that be the goal. Being certain in my uncertainties has allowed me to envision the worst and best at times. Thinking 100 miles per hour, but moving so damn slow. Lauryn go. Don’t slip into the what if category. Dont get caught and arrested by the imposter police because it’s hard to get out and simply be free and believe you can do things. I must let myself know to go. Let that be my ultimate goal.

71% Style Score