I went to yoga yesterday morning reluctantly. I had powered through work on my new passion project, and while I can dream forward I felt concern for how newborn and tender it is. I haven’t been sleeping well, indulging in 3:00 a.m. scenes of “I wish I had said,” or “Next time I will.” There are a few big decisions on my plate (again? always?). Pair all of this alongside the epic cocktail called the busy-ness of the business of Christmas, and a harsh little knot was living in my chest. My brain was on a drunken, broken treadmill – never actually progressing anywhere yet never resting either.
The yoga teacher gently tickled my neck, “Relax your beautiful face,” she whispered. I leaned further, exhaled, and felt something loosen.
Afterward, stretched and pulled and merrily tired, I sank into my car. Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’ came on the radio. For the first time in a long time, I turned the radio up. WAY up. And I started to sing at the top of my lungs, the kind of singing you do alone in the shower, like it is your job to sing.
I was the crazy lady in the soccer-mom vehicle, letting loose to classic ’80s rock, a mess from yoga, with a relaxed and beautiful face. Suddenly, the little ball in my chest rose and popped, leaving in its place fresh new air. I let go of the stale and gulped greedily at the space left behind.
As 2018 comes crashing to a close, I can’t believe how different my pursuits are and my path is from January. It was all so unexpected, one event starting a Rube Goldberg sequence.
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I am working through Powersheets, which is helping me sort what all this means and where I go. I like to applaud the courage it takes to change paths, but I also need to know this chaos is for a reason. My Powersheets work, combined with reading online posts over coffee where writers share lessons learned, made me think it may be worthwhile to pop here and see if what I’ve learned so far helps you?
Things We’ve Learned {December 2018 version}:
Kids take up WAY more time than you think.
When I was in my 20s I was ALL IN with a high-powered job that was my life. It was awesome, except one of my coworkers was a working mom to two young kids. Friends, I was so hard on her. “Why isn’t she ever here?” “I do WAY MORE than she does.” “She is always calling out and working from home!”
Then, of course, it was my turn, a decade later.
Being on the receiving end of that – of being judged for giving family time over anything else by those who don’t live in your shoes – is painful and hurtful. I wish I could find that colleague and send her a hug. Because now, I can empathize with how hard her decisions were.
You are what you surround yourself with.
Surround yourself with potato chips and cookies, and you will eat those over carrots and celery sticks. Promise. Surround yourself with toxic people who speak poorly of others to lift themselves up, and you will say things about others you regret. Promise.
I learned by some self-flagellation moments to be more intentional with what I surround myself with.
I miss writing.
I love content creation – finding good stories (especially for active parents and moms). But after years of a freelance writing career, followed by a significant break, I am finally feeling an itch to craft words artfully again. I like rolling over cadence, feel, commas and adjectives. I began a daily journaling project in 2018 that was cathartic. My challenge to myself in 2019 is to carve out time to write creatively, without expectations for publication or validation.
We don’t know how to handle death.
By “we” I mean our current society. We hush it, we rush by it, we whisper with concern behind the bereaved’s back. We love and we want to support those going through loss, but we don’t actually know how. Instead, we take a step back: “I am going to give them space. They will find me when they need me.” Then it stops affecting our world and we kind of forget about it. So this void occurs where those experiencing loss are left to find a new way nearly alone, as well-meaning friends “give them their space.”
It takes more bravery to be emotional, and it means more to show up and bear tackle someone who is hurting with a hug. It is hard to stare them down across a table over tuna salad as they share their grief, but it is needed and part of who they are. It may mean rejection when the bereaved says “not right now,” but I have learned it means more to someone hurting to say no to a loving moment, knowing they have someone to rely on, than it is to hear radio silence.
We have asked ourselves how we can nurture, tend to, and care for those we know going through challenging and diffiult times. How can we show up more for them?
Expectations are great – except when they’re not.
My failed balloon ride was a reminder that while expectations can create a way to dream big and do bigger, when we don’t meet them we can’t automatically grade life as a fat failure. So it is with friends, spouses, jobs, co-workers, children: set the expectation, but exercise flexibility when lofty dreams aren’t reached.
Focus is the key to success.
It is great to dream big and set a goal for yourself. It is even okay to take your God-given talents and craft a sense of entitlement around them (“IÂ should be a famous singer. Listen to how well I sing this Journey song!”). But until you get out of your own way and focus on HOW to get there, success will be elusive. If you don’t grab a mic and start singing loudly, no one will hear your voice.
It can be painful to readjust and change paths. It can lead to sleepless nights and 3 a.m. sweats. It can also lead to tough decisions and maybe angry conversations with God. But it can also feel good. Really good.
I heard it explained that we always want to know, as humans, what the entire path looks like, what’s at the end of the tunnel. But all that will ever truly be illuminated is the little step right in front of us. So we have to bravely take the step that is lit even though the rest of the tunnel is still dark. Then the next stride will be in the light, and we will know that. And slowly, step by step, we walk down our tunnel to the person we were meant to be.
We must have the bravery and the wisdom to focus on the beam of light in front of us and step to that.
Whatever 2018 looked like for you, and wherever your 2019 ends up leading you, I am excited about life. I am excited for us to take our relaxed and beautiful faces out into the world and step boldly forward.