By Peggy Sturdivant

At least in my circles we don’t say goals anymore, or resolutions. We set ‘intentions’ for the New Year. Some of us the moment before we plunge into Puget Sound, many while sitting on a yoga mat, others on origami paper before tossing written words into the flames. When I used to set goals I recorded them on airline cocktail napkins flying back to Seattle, now a record of my changing priorities and a retrospective on airline mergers.

For 2016 I resolved, I mean set an intention, to be more positive, to think carefully before I speak. My first efforts resulted in being asked why was I suddenly so quiet?

The effort to look on the upside rather than down was prompted in part by a teenager. Her aunt asked her to read one of my columns aloud to her while she cooked. The thirteen year-old balked because it looked too political, and by implication, negative. “I’m so tired of hearing everyone complain about Ballard,” she said, confused because how is she supposed to feel when she loves it?

Good point I realized when I heard about it, almost like one parent complaining about the other to the child in between. Ballard has a lot of serious issues to deal with right now. Listing and lamenting them over and over just adds to a feeling of powerlessness-especially for teenagers who will need to steward the next generation on the planet.

The old goals used to be simpler, read at least 36 books, exercise at least three times a week, take vitamins regularly. So how to work on changing a mindset?

Then it hit me, how could I even consider changing my ways if I was starting out the New Years with outstanding debts. Is there a grace period until after the wreath is down and the lights unstrung? The last annual letter received, the cookie tins all returned? Even so grace period must be nearly over.

So with the sun shining surprisingly late in the afternoon I put on my kinder, gentler eyes for an old-fashioned solo walk to downtown Ballard. The kind I used to do so more frequently when I wasn’t as busy with students and meetings, remarriage and two cats, light years ago when I first started writing this column.

Between still decorated windows and doors I noticed buds on bushes and even fragrant blooms on Daphne odora. In preparation for the upcoming street survey for Ballard Historical Society’s Mapping Historic Ballard project I looked at every structure, assessing when it was built or replaced, admiring gables with the backdrop of pink sky. When my daughter was very young the walk to Ballard and back could take us all day. We would count cats, this walk I was more aware of the birdsong, is it different at last light than at first?

Nearing Ballard Commons I watched a wide RV/camper swing around a traffic circle and a goodly corner of sidewalk before parking. RVs and what are called “unsanctioned encampments” have been quite an online topic recently in a decidedly negative way. I decided to be curious rather than judgmental. My reward was the woman who went around to the passenger side carrying a little tiny dog over one shoulder and carefully helped a little girl with red hair out of her seatbelt.

It reminded me of something else that happened right before the holidays. I saw a post on Facebook about someone’s friend needing a couch. I had a couch that I didn’t want; a Habitat for Humanity purchase a year ago that I regretted. I offered the couch for free as long as it could be picked up. Her sister showed up with helpers and it was gone in a twinkle. The woman’s acknowledgment message read, “My girls and I slept on it last night. It felt great to be off of the floor.” I learned they had just been able to get into an apartment after being homeless. The couch wasn’t even a sleeper bed.

After crossing Ballard Commons I set to work. At the library I paid off my $3.25 in fines for late returns. Then I went west on Market Street to Ballard Mailbox where they’d given me six airmail stamps when their computer was down and I didn’t have cash, $3.30. Then I backtracked northeast to Tall Grass Bakery. I owed them a quarter from when I didn’t have change. I know I’m lucky that businesses allow me to owe them money.

Homeward bound it was what photographers and navigators call the blue hour, when it’s indigo at the horizon. I did some accounting on my 2016 intentions. I’d paid off the $6.80 in debts but there’s a 13 year-old out there that I owe to be more positive and solution-oriented. Luckily the daylight hours are on my side.