Here we are in a new year, a little sicker, a little reluctant, a little resistant.
I am a big fan of symbols. New beginnings, goal setting, big dreams…I’m typically all about it. But right now I’m a little tired, a bit worn out by nothing in particular. Unwilling to return to a predictable schedule and routine. Simply not quite ready to lean into the discomfort of becoming more of who I want to be in this new year.
2018 was mostly great, barring one large unexpected loss. I’ve accomplished more than I thought I would, but also less. I’ve cultivated deeper relationships and realized the importance, luck, and gratitude of having friends who feel more like family. I revealed new layers in myself, and shed old ones. I am both burdened and energized with questions.
I would like 2019 to be the year that sets me up for self-employment and it very well could be if I can commit to an idea of what I’d like that to be. I have been struggling lately with the rampant nature of consumerism. I’m certainly not above it. Maybe it’s because of my schooling and career, but I’m hyper aware that we’re constantly being sold to and I’m tired of it. I’m not sure I want to wade into the endless sea of voices hawking goods and services we probably don’t need, but I don’t know if there’s another way.
Mostly in this new year, I hope to write more often, more deeply and honestly in an effort to capture and make sense of my thoughts and feelings. I want to remember, with less effort, that we’re all just people trying to live life to the best of our abilities, and it is a needless waste of energy to seek approval or to impress others. I expect that I’ll continue to try things on and let go of what doesn’t fit quite right. And I’ll keep finding the good in both the dark and the light.
2019, ready or not, here I come.