I’m not one for new years resolutions. Well, not officially anyway. Of course, I have thoughts about what I want to achieve as I turn the page on 2024. But those are the same things that I contemplate every new year. Or, every Monday. Whatever. Of how I should be doing more … or less, depending on the situation. Trying to change myself for the better is, after all, the habit of a lifetime. This year, I made a conscious decision instead, to ease my way gently into 2025.
Even though I did little over the Christmas period, beyond reading my Kindle and binge watching episodes of The Gilmore Girls, I find myself entering this new year lacking in energy. I’m also tired of the new year, new me cliche. I’ve finally seen through the illusion that there is something wrong with me. I have already wasted too much of my one wild and precious life on this meaningless pursuit. Trying to fix something, that I now know, was never broken. I can accept that I am enough. That I am worthy. That there is no need for me to be better, or thinner, or more anything. The people who matter love me just the way I am.
But … There’s always a but, isn’t there. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t still work to be done.
Life is hard
My uncle died on Christmas Eve. He’d been ill for a long-time, still he was relatively young and it came as shock. As death often does, it saw me contemplating my own life. Wondering, what’s the point. Life is hard – even one a privileged as mine – and then we die. So why not throw caution to the wind. Live every day as though it could be the last. Why bother with the daily meditations, or the cold showers. Why turn down the delicious dessert, or force myself to run through gale force winds. (Or worry when I haven’t done these things, as is often the case).
Then I thought about the people I’ve lost over the last few years. Every one of them too young; gone well before their time. Thought about how they battled to stay, even until their final breath. About what would they give for more time with those they left behind.
I look at my Grandma, who at 88, lives in near constant pain. Who has lost three children, and a husband, and who still marvels at the beauty of the spring flowers as they come to bloom.
Know your why
I was reminded that yes, life is hard, but it is also an honour not afforded to all. It is not to be taken for granted. I want to enjoy a long and healthy life. Grateful for every opportunity to marvel at the starlings as they fly in formation over my favourite lake. For every day that my body remains functional and strong. And I’d give anything to spend even an extra second with the people I love. Of course there is so much that is out of my control. Who knows when my time will be up. But, I want to give myself a fighting chance.
And after listening to an interview with Elizabeth Gilbert this week, I realised something else. When I’m not doing the work, I am not safe for other people to be around. I become imbalanced, falling, as Elizabeth puts it, below the line of consciousness. It is obvious to me when this happens. Physiologically, I feel jittery and anxious. My chest is heavy and my stomach churns. I can’t catch my breath. Emotionally, I am short-tempered, and angry, and quick to judge. I attribute blame instead of taking accountability. My thoughts become dangerous. My words, weapons with which to inflict pain. The result, I hurt the people I love. And, I hurt myself.
While I live amongst other people, I have a responsibility then, to ensure that my actions cause no harm. And for that to be the case, a well regulated nervous system is essential.
Earth school
In order to be that version of myself, there are things that I know I must do. The obvious practises, of course. Remaining sober. Eating well. Daily movement. Limiting my consumption of mainstream and social media. Getting enough sleep. Spending time in nature.
But in order to understand myself fully, I have committed to going deeper into the work. Learning to better understand my triggers. To recognise when when I am projecting. To heal my past traumas. I want to transform these things into something positive. Or neutralise them at least.
All this means that, while there are no new year’s resolutions, this Earth school is still very much in session. How that looks has evolved over the years and is now very individual to me. And while sometimes it feels hard, and I long to lean into what feels comfortable, I know that the alternative is not an option. That discomfort is too heavy for my conscience, my body, to bear.
The good news is, this work is a marathon, not a sprint. It allows for life’s ups and downs. For times of, what Katherine May describes as, wintering. It even leaves room for the occasion slice of cake and the next season of The Gilmore Girls. In fact, I’d say these things are recommended, if not essential. After all, we are striving for balance, are we not.