I know, some of us aren’t ready. Some of us are like looking at the decorations, and the fridge full of leftovers, and we’re just not ready to give up the permission to indulge, in chocolate for breakfast, or time spent with loved ones, the festive gatherings, the warmth and cheer.
The 4000 lights on the tree that threaten with hours of take-down to leave us bereft of twinkle, sniffle sniffle.
The feeling that life wants to give us a hug, whether we are fully receptive, or scared to fall into her arms for fear of losing our tight grip on all that we do in a day, or worse, opening up the floodgates of need, emotion, even secret hurty places.
Some of us need a vacation from the holidays. A month long nap, a twenty mile run, a quiet bath in a quiet room in a quiet forest. A real day off –not one we spend doing 3 other jobs then rushing to the party just so we can work twice as hard the next day. A day off and a full refund, here’s my receipt, 2022.
Some of us crash landed into 12:01 January 1 like we had jumped off of a derailed train one split Hollywood-second before it careened off a cliff, or like a fluffy kitten diving into the arms of an attractive fireperson from a flaming poisonous tree.
A few of us were chewed up and spat out onto the doorstep of 2023 and we are standing there in our underwear embarrassed and cold.
We’re just starting to realize that what happened in Covid, unlike Vegas, did not in fact stay there.
We want to declare the new, hell yes, but also we’re not ready to do the hard things that will knock this year out of the park. Some of us already knocked it out of the park last year. What do you mean we have to one up that performance? Now, when we are made up of 30 percent eggnog and 70 percent tinsel.
And so today, I invite you to ease up to 2023. I know, she is kind of here already, but you can take a little time to get to know her. You don’t have to jump-scare her into action. Ask her some questions about what she wants, her hopes and dreams. Hold her hand. Give her a neck massage and a cuppa’ of tea or wine. You can maybe just even (I know it’s so rebellious of me, even scandalous) take some hard things off her plate. Like did you even know that “You should, you better, and how are you going to even” contain a 1000 empty calories each, and are not nearly as yummy as “How can I help, what do you need, what would make you feel joyful, or safe or less scared?”
What if instead of fighting the good fight with this new year we got on the same day-timer page with her, and scratched out some space for all of those incredibly important things that don’t usually make airtime? Instead of setting demanding expectations, because let’s be honest we all know how to expect FROM ourselves, we get really wild and brave and start expecting FOR. I mean us and everyone around us. Stop measuring by how we fall short, and fail one another and ourselves, and think about it all differently.
In the days to come, the early days of a new slate, and a blank page, doodle out your wishes, the things you really care about, secretly care about, or are afraid to care about. Make a list to surrender; those things that feel too hard to solve, that push their way in like bullies trying to take up all of the space and time and resources, and instead of letting them steal the show take a dance in the moonlight, under the glimmer of the possible, the curious, the sweet. You don’t have to force them or figure them out. Just print them on a page. Whisper them aloud. Call them by name.
Much love,
Erin