As much as I want to close the lid on this year, I dread January. In order to prepare for that, I am turning inward, working on things I want to accomplish, and not getting worked up about the things I can’t control. But I want to be awake and aware, not hiding under the covers.

The image above went around Facebook in the last year, along with hundreds—thousands?—of other memes, on both sides. (The Democrats’ were wittier and pithier and “truthier”— no surprise there.) Still, we all believe what we wanna believe, right?

Fidel Castro just died. I was nine during the Cuban missile crisis in 1962. We were ducking and covering in school, and I lived with my family on a hill that had beacons for the nearby local airport. Somehow I got them mixed up with Russians and nuclear attack. My third grade teacher, Mrs. Warner, wrote the word propaganda on the chalk board. I had never heard a more confusing word in my life, especially the definition.

Sometimes I still feel like I am nine. I say the Serenity Prayer while still fidgeting with the G-word. I struggle with anxiety. And I know that the answer is to acknowledge the way I feel when creating something in a mindful way. It can be a freshly made bed. Sweeping the porch. Arranging my mementos. Or it can be the memoir of my early art school years that I am determined to finish, if for no other reason but to say “I was here.” That is serenity, now.

The first step of the last month of this year is to commit to myself. Let’s face it: less Facebook would dial me down immensely. So, I plan to cocoon with my project, and enter a free memoir contest here: http://tinyurl.com/j4d3kqz , and hope that this will be beginning of a beautiful friendship.

With myself.