Four Lessons on Beginning I Learned This Fall, and Year // A 2019 Refection
Some leap into their New Year with the same vivacity as the confetti that falls from the sky on that midnight toast. They keep the momentum of Oct-no-cember and all its festivities to run head first into the finish line of the old year, ready for the next lap around the calendar. They make reflections, create lists, choose words, and coordinate plans so that when they have cleaned up the champagne and brushed away the confetti, they are ready for a fresh start on day one.
My fresh start always looks a little different than that. I like the reflection to begin on our long journey of Christmas break travel, wishing and dreaming together with my co-pilot in those rare and magical moments when the passengers behind us are content. I want an empty page in a journal and a colorful pen in hand. I want a coffee shop window with a peak outside to begin writing my plans.
That’s where I sit now. I know this seat well, I grab it when I can. It has the perfect vantage point for watching the world outside while I cozy up in. It’s cold today. Heads look down, covered by scarfs and hats and hoods to block the wind before ducking inside for a warm bowl of soup and a steaming latte. The same snow from weeks ago covers the ground, now crusty and brown. Dead, untrimmed branches from last year’s flower bed stick up from the mounds of snow like sad reminders of a summer come and gone.
It’s hard to remember the summer on a day like today.
I find it interesting that we put so much effort into planning big dreams for ourselves at the time when Mother Nature is at her quietest. We see mounds of snow, lifeless trees, little signs of moving creatures. How are we to believe in growth? How are we to remember that summer will come again?
We believe because we know. We know that snow melts, seeds grow, flowers bloom and turn into fruit to nourish us, from the inside out as well as the outside in. We watch it happen year after year, season after season. And yet, it still feels like a miracle. It still feels impossible to believe in growth in the middle of January, when the signs of life are missing from our outside world.
The snow on the ground, while it covers up life, reminds me of the blank pages a new year promises. The winter season is about the wide open slower days with margin to process the future. We plan and dream in hope of growth to come. We don’t expect the flower tomorrow. We know better than that. But we do need to believe. That’s what makes it a miracle.
“I feel lost. Like I’m floating.” I told him one night, when our date night turned therapy session, as it does. “I think it’s because I haven’t gotten a chance to wrap up my goals yet.”
“Just because you haven’t posted to your blog doesn’t mean you haven’t started your new year with intention.”
I think what he was gently telling me was don’t be so narcissistic. People don’t care that much about me. Touché.
He is right though (Don’t tell him I said that.) Winter is a loooooong season around here. I have plenty of time to process and reflect. This snow isn’t letting up anytime soon. Plants need the quiet and still before they are ready to bloom. I do too.
At the start of the year I led with a quote from Little Women.
“I make so many beginnings there shall never be an end.”
Did I know that Little Women would be having such a moment this year? Not at all. But I do love this quote. And not until I arrived at the conclusion of my word BEGIN this year did I realize how deeply I would relate to this sentiment.
This year I focused on the beginning, the first brave steps, the vulnerable early stages, the coming into being. The interesting part of beginning is that it doesn’t indicate a goal. There were no goals this year. While I wasn’t providing the wide open space of grace that the year prior invited with ENOUGH, I also didn’t want to focus my attention on the end goal. Instead, I wanted to give life to the first step, and lots of them.
Were there achievements this year? Absolutely. And I can’t wait until my birthday to fill out my Reverse Bucket List But sometimes there are things begun that don’t have an ending, and they shouldn’t. It is these I want to highlight.
As I breathe deeply and lean into the New Year, I sit in the space between the beginnings of last year and possible milestone endings with a 20 in 2020 list (coming soon!) But what about the middle? What about the parts where I am NOW. That’s where I want to be. That’s where I want to guide my attention this year—to not be a before, or an after, but a right now.
I am ready to introduce my word of the year, but not yet. If you love a good hunt, I can tell you the words (yes words!) are hidden in this essay. Any guesses? You'll have to wait a bit to find out.
For today, in this final reflection on What I Learned About Begin This Fall, and Year, I give you four things I began this year that do not have an end:
My Garden Project - I had so much fun being a beginner, throwing myself into research and then actually doing it. Literally getting my hands dirty. And I kept up with it. A sign that something is worth doing. This garden was fun, educational, inspiring, and kept me in constant awe at mother nature and her beauty. While I am not currently "doing" anything in the garden, I am dreaming, and that will keep me going all year round.
Writing career - Broken record, I know. I’ll keep this one short because I have already written on this subject. But the greatest shift I made this year in my writing was finally calling myself a writer. This is a pivotal shift, identifying a vocation, and one I am excited to continue to pursue.
Self Care in the form of Body/Skin Wellness - If you have spent more than five minutes with me since last January, you would have heard me quote the Forever35 Podcast. This is more than just a listening experience for me—it is a life shift. Self care is a buzzy phrase. This podcast shifted my perspective in so many ways, not just skin care but true understanding of my own self worth. I learned how to care for my skin this year, yes I did. I learned to wash my face! I started to use toners and serums and oils, oh my! But more importantly I learned this matters because of my own self acceptance of beauty. My soul, and body, thank you for this momentous new beginning, Forever 35.
The exploration of postpartum care for women and children - The phrase "what do I want to be when I grow up" circles in my mind on a regular basis. I suppose I already partially answered this when I called myself a writer. But I know there is more than just that for me. I constantly keep my eyes and ears open to what inspires me. This year, while processing my own postpartum experience, as well as guiding friends through this challenging period, I recognized a passion for this season of life for women. I have much more to discover about the possibilities. I am still working out what this means for me and my future. But I see this as a seed just beginning and I look forward to watching it grow.
If the end of this decade was only my beginning, I can’t wait to see where the next decade carries me!