Something Beautiful Is on the Horizon
December 30, 2022
If you believe 1960s pop singer Andy Williams, it’s the most wonderful time of the year. I’ve always loved the holidays, which, in my house, start with a Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving Day. Yet I can’t help but feel frazzled in this most festive of seasons: With a heavy workload lying in wait and a profusion of self-imposed personal deadlines, I consistently question whether I’ll get it all done.
Christmas strain? It’s a common tale. A recent study found that nearly half of people feel more anxious around the holidays. But doesn’t a new year deliver a fresh start? Unfortunately, it isn’t exactly a cure for the elevated stress levels so many people experience in December.
That’s why, even though most of my family is local and I don’t travel for Christmas, I like to take the last half of the month off from work. In my mid-30s, I came to value this time to recharge and reflect before tackling another trip around the sun.
Time to Recharge
In the first week of a holiday reboot, I do all of the things I didn’t think I had time to do in the previous 11 months: I organize cabinets. Donate items we no longer need. Ride my bike for as long as I want. Deadhead flowers. Address Christmas cards. Outline a novel. Watch something on Netflix and stay awake for it.
In the second week, I focus on my 4-year-old son, whose school is closed. We bake cookies and eat most of them, even if Jack didn’t finish his veggies at dinner. We build giant Lego cities in the playroom. We go to Cabela’s to return one item and spend 15 minutes watching the funny fish in the store’s giant tank.
Time to Reflect
Of course, this time is also a great opportunity to reflect and think about what’s next, especially in the first week that’s mostly quiet. I don’t make New Year’s resolutions because I believe they’re too black and white, dependent on temporary outcomes rather than real change. Instead, I set goals that act as a set of instructions for the life I want to live.
This year’s list is short, especially next to my 2019 list when I identified 19 goals. But if I nailed the following three goals every year, I think I’d die happy.
My 2023 Goals
1. Seek balance.
Consummate balance doesn’t exist. As with many skills, especially those in the arts, perfection simply isn’t possible. It’s well out of reach for a mother with a full-time job and a bunch of lofty personal ambitions.
Balance always makes my list, but it’s about incremental improvements rather than completion. It’s about practicing mindfulness and living with intention. It’s about celebrating the small victories (I could have written 1,000 words, but I was tired and only capable of writing crap, so I did nothing and I’ll be better for it tomorrow). It’s about seeing every measure for more than its face value (yes, I’d generally benefit from reduced screen time, but on a given day, if I’m doing something meaningful rather than mindlessly scrolling my feeds, I’ll take those extra hours).
2. Choose joy.
This is a repeat, too, but gosh, it’s necessary. Maybe I’m viewing life pre-pandemic through rose-colored glasses, but the world just seems so angry right now (Google “are we angrier right now” — I’m not the first writer to say it).
As I’ve said before, my late sister always chose joy, even in the horrible final stage of the devastating, brain-and-body-wasting CLN1 disease (Batten disease).
Circumstances are what happen to us. Our reactions are driven by free will. I can choose to be pissed off at the universe or the person next to me. I can just as easily choose to smile and let it roll off my back.
3. Practice self-love.
According to the Brain & Behavior Research Foundation, self-love promotes physical, psychological and spiritual growth. It’s the key to everything.
In 2023, I want to complete the first draft of my novel (more on that later). In order to do so, I’ll have to give myself permission to crawl into my creative cocoon and do the work. But I’ll also have to give myself permission to fail, whether that means writing a crappy chapter or missing my deadline.
With a major ankle surgery in the rearview mirror, I want to return to my previous running form — not because I’m angling to win the races I enter, but because the act of running fuels my creative thinking and happiness and helps me feel connected to my sister.
In a world where I can always help someone, I want to have the courage to say “no” if that’s the best thing for both of us.
In a home where I always feel loved and supported, I want to be able to say, “I need this time to do XYZ” without feeling bad about it.
And, in a job that sometimes moves at the speed of sound, I want to protect the space I need to think and be a better marketer, communicator and leader.
While we can’t choose what happens to us, we can choose how we respond. And, while I don’t know exactly what will happen to me in 2023, I know this: Something beautiful is on the horizon.
What are your goals for the coming year? Send me a note or connect with me on social media.
