I’m not one for New Year’s Resolutions because, quite frankly, I am definitely someone who begins with the best of intentions and then fails almost immediately. There are obviously those things I want to do (and NEED to do) when January rolls around again each year: lose the weight I put on through the holidays, clean and organize my home, get back into a steady exercise routine, spend less time doom-scrolling through social feeds, etc. etc. You know the drill…
I will say with certainty that I will not set grandiose life-changing goals for 2022; however, I do want to spend more time doing things that make me feel more positive and whole.
How much happier would we be if we made, and kept, that one promise to ourselves?
Like many others, I was a giant stress magnet at the end of 2021. While I’m grateful that it was a personally good year and that I and my family made it through relatively healthy and unscathed, the last twelve (or – more accurately – the last 22) months doled out a fair amount of tough love. In reflection, I’m grateful that the pandemic gave me the introspection needed to reflect on those things that make me happy and those things that hold me down. To make a long story short, I went a little “Marie Kondo” on my psyche in December. I’m learning to let go of those things that used to make me happy, but for whatever reason, are stressful in the here and now. I am also learning that closing one door does not mean that I have to immediately open another. I will try not to fill gaps with other “stuff” (ie: trying to pick up a new hobby) and will instead try to focus on my day-to-day well being.
Regular Goodreads nerds like me might know that users can set a personal Reading Challenge for themselves at the beginning of each year, and there’s a nice social aspect in tracking your progress along with the progress of your reader-friends as you finish and rate titles. Last year I set a goal for 50 books and exceeded it by one. I’m not going to raise that number this year; actually, I’m backing off a bit. Though I read many incredible books last year, reading for pleasure took up a fair amount of my free time, which is always in short supply. That’s not a bad thing, but spending so much more time reading created an imbalance that left little space for writing. I’d like to fix that.
If you’re surprised that you’re seeing two blog posts from me this week, don’t be. One thing I’ve done successfully since beginning this blog was neglect it. This isn’t because I don’t have ideas. I do. It takes me a long time to get them on the page. As the words appear, I perseverate on revision. Instead of moving from one stage of the writing process to the next, I attempt to write and revise at once. I want to be careful about what I say, as to not say the “wrong” thing. I worry about how I might be perceived if I share my opinion on a debatable topic. I worry about whether or not my voice atrophied from lack of practice. I worry about using too many semicolons. I worry about still having the chops for this. Is it worth it? Or would I be better off writing in my notebook for an audience of one. Who is even reading this anyway?
Despite the negative self-talk above, I really enjoy writing. I’m convinced that making space for writing in 2022 will help me move in the direction of being that more positive and whole person I want to be.
So if I’m making a “resolution” for 2022, that’s it. There will not be a “new” me this year; I want to get back to the old me. To do that, I will create more space for writing. Maybe some of it will appear here, or maybe it will go into that notebook on my nightstand. Maybe I will finally take something from my dissertation and submit a journal article for publication. Maybe I will write a poem that doesn’t stink.
Or maybe it doesn’t matter if I do or don’t do any of these things, as long as I’m leveraging my free time to do something that makes me happy.
