List it: List posts are everywhere. Give us a list.
I have been blogging for almost a decade now and on a relatively consistent basis, I've used this method of representing the year in a snapshot or overview in addition to the deeper kind of reflections from reverb posts. I read and reflect on the posts I've written each month in the previous year and determine my favorite post or the one I feel best represents the goings on of that month. If you're interested in past reviews you can read the following years at these links: 2012 , 2010, 2009, 2007, 2006, 2005.
January: I haven't had an easy week. I am having trouble getting into the groove of the semester, adjusting my schedule and my routine. From Distracted Ghosts
February: But each run is a new opportunity to improve, to challenge myself, to practice something I'm not very good at. To keep doing it, anyway; to keep showing up. From Things I'm Learning from Running
March: I so badly needed a break, room to breathe and exist and be myself which let's face it, is a little bit selfish. But this time, I think that's okay. From You Owe Yourself Permission to Be
April: Mistakes are part of life. You're going to say things you want to take back and do things you may regret. You will hurt your friends and be cruel to people you just met. You will be selfish and icy and try to protect yourself from whatever it is you're afraid of. This is the messy chaos of learning how to be a friend, a good person, a lover, part of humanity. From 35 things I wish I'd learned sooner
May: I see photographs of younger selves, heavier selves, thinner selves, sillier selves, more innocent selves, frightened versions of myself, and strong versions, too. There is a sense of nothing and everything changing all at once. From Ghosts Are Everywhere
June: Being kind to yourself is easy. You already know how. What works for me or your friend you tells how awesome the tea she found is and how relaxing it is, may not work for you. You have to figure out what you need to bring your amazing, kick-ass self to the day, the meeting, the moment. From Being Kind to You
July: I miss the strike throughs, the way you could see the process play out in the margins and edits. I have folders full of workshopped poems and stories, but I wonder if I took such courses today, what shape revision would take. Today, I type over, delete and rarely save drafts. (To be fair, I've been editing similarly for a while, but my first drafts, especially of poems, I almost always wrote by hand). The version on which I type is always the latest version. A tangible manifestation of my edits and my process, even in small pieces is not present. From Why My Handwriting Is Terrible
August: It is impossible (for me) to understand all the things that make us, how we process and make meaning in the world. But this much I know: in all of my weirdness, I am never bored. I have been able to do things I never thought possible. I would not trade those parts of me for anything.
I can already tell that my niece with her dimples and pigtails and her adventurous spirit is going to be a little weird. With her last name and our family traditions, she really has no hope of normalcy. Welcome to the weirdness, Grace. You're in good company. From On Being Weird
September: I learned from both of my parents the power of words; it is most my strongly held belief, and the one that expresses to my father the things I don't know how to tell him like how I appreciate what he taught me about music, that he bought me my first boom-box at a yard sale, that he talked about lyrics and chord progressions, key changes and made me listen to Mozart and Bach and Beethoven and The Beatles and Elton John and Billy Joel. From In Celebration of My Father's Birthday, a Bit Belated, Of Course
October: I am trying to learn to embrace the busy-ness, and to feel less conflicted about how I spend my time. I still forget things that need doing; library books are late; emails don't get returned. The details and dailyness can feel overwhelming and there are days I feel like I'm doing nothing well. But what I'm realizing is that IS life. It's also noticing the stars, how bright they seem these days, and driving with the windows down, wishing for Fall and being grateful for all that I have going on, because it means my life is full. From Embracing the
November: I once burned a hole in my pillowcase because I was reading by the naked bulb of my night light and fell asleep. It wouldn't be the first time I fell asleep reading, surrounded by books instead of stuffed animals. Such is the life of a bookworm. From Some of those Random Things
December: I find it difficult, sometimes, especially when emotions are high, to be grateful. But I am. I know how incredible my life is and though there are challenges and struggles and things that I wish were different, I am so deeply thankful for the people in my life, for the opportunities I have, for every single day I am part of the wild, chaotic and beautiful world. From #Reverb13: Gratitude