One Word

Since I don't do resolutions, I thought maybe I'd choose a word for 2012.

It seems to be the thing to do.

A word for what you know is going to happen, for what you want to happen.

A word that could sum up the whole year.

That thought makes me itchy.

One word for 366 days!

Nevertheless, I started my search.

I read blogs.

People talked about breathing and splashing and accepting and growing.

I wrote.

I thought.

I sat in silence.

I considered, what will this year bring?

The end of one school, the beginning of another.

Moving out of my parents' home, my home, to strike out on my own for the first time. I will become a legal adult. I will vote for the first time. I hope to drive.

And out of that, I'm supposed to get one word?

I don't think so.

Beyond the fears of choosing the wrong word, of being too greedy or too careful, there lies my belief, my stubborn-ness, that says that one year cannot be summed up in one word.

The very idea makes me crabby.

That paragraph up there? That's the big stuff, the pretty-much-for-certain stuff. Those aren't the pieces that make up a year. It's the small things, the people, the places, the smiles, the late nights.

Things I can in no way predict.

Things that cannot be summed up in one little word.