I don't remember the last time I actually did new year's resolutions, and I don't plan on ever doing them again.
I have always loved a good "restart" button to push: new seasons, new school semesters, new years. However, I've realized over the years (aka this past years-long year) that to be happy (or whatever), you need to be okay with pushing that button as many times in a day that is required to take hold of whatever it is that you're reaching for. If this year taught us anything (and I hope it did), it's that life can change rapidly. My refresh button on the New York Times homepage can attest to this.
This year has been one of survival, physically and mentally. Although I live a vastly privileged existence and am grateful for the luxuries it's allowed me--namely being able to work from home very part-time--I still spent most of the year extremely unsettled. I spent a lot of my days fluctuating between constant contact with the tragedies unfurling around the globe and my own circles to complete disassociation bolstered by hours-long naps, reruns of Gilmore Girls, new Taylor Swift albums, and the occasional half bottle of wine.
I've avoided my own self before, but after almost a year primarily in my own company, I feel the pull to reconnect the rusty wiring that ties my actions with my intentions. I truly hope that in 2021, I can go beyond mere survival and begin thriving.
What does thriving mean though? Honestly, it could change, but it looks a little bit like this mood board I made for January.
Yes, just January! No more of that I'm-Going-To-Predict-The-New-Year's-Possibilities.
I know what's possible in January, so I'm starting there.
