I knew my word instantly. I tried to think, and think hard, because perhaps this wasn’t really my word. Maybe there was another, easier word. This one had been coming on for some time, placed at the forefront of my brain again and again and again as an imperative that must be heeded if I am to survive.
But still. I scrolled through the One Word resolutions of others, and tried on each one like a garment. I was looking for a fleecy, comfortable thing. Like a jacket I could slip on, one arm at a time. A word I could snuggle up with effortlessly. A word I could call on much like a small child nurses her pacifier; an amenity for the inevitable trials of life.
The word, my One Word, is more of a weapon than an amenity. Rather than snuggling up in its fleeciness, it will call me to hit the cold, hard floor. Early, no doubt, and repeatedly. On my knees, even.
Get it? My One Word is:
Will you join me?
What’s your One Word?