Introduction by Ted Kooser: I’m well into my seventies, and I warm to simple, peaceful scenes. Here’s a fine love poem by Patricia Traxler, a Kansas poet, whose newest book, Naming the Fires, will be out in early 2016.

Weather Man

When it snows, he stands

at the back door or wanders

around the house to each

window in turn and

watches the weather

like a lover. O farm boy,

I waited years

for you to look at me

that way. Now we’re old

enough to stop waiting

for random looks or touches

or words, so I find myself

watching you watching

the weather, and we wait

together to discover

whatever the sky might bring.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2015 by Patricia Traxler, “Weather Man.” Poem reprinted by permission of Patricia Traxler. Introduction copyright ©2015 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

Back in 2010, I wrote a blog post about Barbara Sher’s book Refuse to Choose, and my enthusiasm for my “six-year calendar of happiness.” Thrilled to understand myself better, I thought the calendar represented a way to focus my Scanner nature and enjoy and pursue all the things that catch my interest in a tidy and organized fashion.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

And, at first, it worked pretty well. In 2010, I played with my horse, began learning watercolor, read a couple of classics. In 2011, I did more of the same. However, despite my hopes otherwise, my freelancing sputtered to a halt. I never studied Florida history (2010), did any cross stitch projects (2011), or finished the book I was writing (2012). I had the single word “travel” under 2014, and though I visited my family in California and took a road trip to St. Augustine with a friend that year, that hardly seems like what I’d originally had in mind.

I’m sure Refuse to Choose had advice on making those dreams and goals happen, but I conveniently forgot the part where I had to take action. Here are three mistakes I made:

This reminds me of the Sidney Harris cartoon of two men standing at a blackboard chalked with equations. Step two of the problem they’re solving is: “Then a miracle occurs.” I kept expecting that miracle to occur! I kept expecting to meet my goals or learn fill-in-the-blank or experience I-don’t-know-what without taking any steps to make it happen.

Writing down goals and dreams is a start, but it’s only a start. Just writing down “travel” didn’t take me where I wanted to go, either literally or figuratively. In 2016, things are starting out differently. After I jotted down some goals for the year, I made a list of things I’m going to do in January to reach those goals. Then I made a list of what I plan to do this week. Then I sent that list of tasks to a friend who has agreed to kindly prod me when I start blowing off the steps that will lead me to my goals. (I’m an Obliger, so this step is important for me.) As the year progresses, I will adjust my goals as I need to, and I still want to jot down a few ideas for future years—true to my Scanner self, I have many things I want to explore that I will not have time or energy to tackle this year.

Why do I share this with you? Why should you care?

First, because I hope to have many more simple pleasures and everyday adventures to share with you here on Catching Happiness. More importantly, I hope if I succeed that I’ll be a positive example to inspire you to live a fuller and more interesting life. (And if I fail, I can be a cautionary tale!)

I want to be happier and I’ll bet you do, too. While doing isn’t always the answer, sometimes it is. I want to do more of the things I say I want to do rather than only dream about them. 

“The foundation of a good relationship with intentions and goals is keeping in mind that the primary aim of setting and working toward them is to feel the way you want to feel.”

—Danielle LaPorte

The Christmas tree is packed away, much to Prudy’s disappointment (broken ornament count: 3), and we finally, finally have some cool weather set to stick around for a few days. The sun shines today after a couple of gray, rainy days. It feels like a new year and, for the moment, I feel energized.

For the next couple of weeks, I’ll be setting goals and intentions for at least the next quarter of the year. Starting with—no reading challenges. I’m passing on them all, because they were starting to feel not-fun. When reading a vintage mystery starts to feel not-fun, then something’s wrong. In 2016, reading is one area I’m leaving entirely to whim. Any reading projects I take on will be ones I set for myself. (But thank you to the lovely folks who set and run reading challenges—it’s not you, it’s me! I may be back next year.)

I’ll be finalizing my word of the year, playing around with this workbook, and generally doing what I can to set myself up for a fantastic year.  

So, welcome 2016. I’ve got a good feeling about you.

Have you made any special plans or set any intentions for 2016?

Introduction by Ted Kooser: Here’s a New Year’s poem by Judy Ray, who lives and writes in Tucson. I like the way that common phrase, “the turning of a year,” has suggested to her the turns in a race track. Her most recent book is To Fly Without Wings, (Helicon Nine Editions, 2009). 

Turning of the Year

We never know if the turn

is into the home stretch.

We call it that—a stretch

of place and time—

with vision of straining,

racing.  We acknowledge

each turn with cheers

though we don’t know

how many laps remain.

But we can hope the course

leads on far and clear

while the horses have strength

and balance on their lean legs,

fine-tuned muscles, desire

for the length of the run.

Some may find the year smooth,

others stumble at obstacles

along the way.  We never know

if the finish line will be reached

after faltering, slowing,

or in mid-stride, leaping forward.

We do not accept unsolicited submissions. American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher ofPoetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2012 by Judy Ray, “Turning of the Year,” from The Whirlybird Anthology of Kansas City Writers, (Whirlybird Press, 2012). Poem reprinted by permission of Judy Ray and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2015 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.