Isn’t it strange; the idea of a new year? It’s just another day that begins like the last. A week like the one that just passed. A month like the one just lived through. The sun rises just like it always does, and the hours are still as many as they’ve always been, the good old 24.
Another day like the rest, yet we decided otherwise. We chose the first of January, elected it major and granted it special powers the others don’t possess.
Indeed, it’s just another day the world spins round, but it doesn’t feel that way. That day to which we ascribed words like ‘new’, ‘fresh start’ or ‘different’ has fully taken up those meanings and somehow come the end of December we all want to become someone we haven’t been in a while or at all.
Whether the idea of the new beginning makes your flutter a little at the idea of endless possibilities or you think it’s all purely performative and overhyped nonsense, the truth is the new year makes us think larger about our big picture of life.
You think about what you’ll do in the new year, who you’ll be, what you may accomplish, but it doesn’t stop there. It’s almost impossible to not relate your desires, plans and hopes to the person you want to be further down the line – essentially, future you. In fact, when we sit down to make mental pictures or write hopeful resolutions, that’s the person we have in mind; our ideal type, the version of us we want to see in the end.
I’m sure you can picture ‘her‘ in your mind. Self-assured, successfully, and confident at making big decisions, the kind you may tremble over.
I’ve always been anti-resolutions on this blog and in my life. I’d often say it wasn’t for me as I did not get the point in writing a long list life would overturn and screw over. Pessimistic much? I know, but that’s just how I felt back then.
Whilst I always, maintained a hopeful feeling at the start of each year, I just never felt a need to write it all down and keep score. I’d looked at my list so many times before feeling underwhelmed, as though I’d failed again year after year so eventually, I stopped.
Maybe my hopes were too high and all they could produce was cruel disappointment. Maybe they were not high enough which felt like a bigger loss when unaccomplished in the end. Either way, I was not up for trying again. At least I hadn’t been up until now…
After the year that 2021 was, let me just say I was ready to embrace the idea of a new optimistic prospect once more. Perhaps, I needed something to change. Or maybe, it’s a part of growing up and becoming an adult; realising that life is hard on its own and harder without a plan or vision.
So, after much reflection over the holidays, I did it. I did what I didn’t believe I’d do again and with a black pen, I traced my intentions on paper.
It felt good to be intentionally honest. Writing down the things I want to accomplish and the ways I want to grow gave me a sense of direction.
Writer, Joan Didion said the following: “I don’t know what I think until I write it down.” Those are words I relate to very much, the very reason I write this blog even. Hence, making my list brought me a little closer to myself.
I know first-hand how easy it is to fall behind after the January spell dwindles off and be left with fragments of who you used to be, so that’s why I made sure to keep my goals realistic.
The last two years have been far from normal. The pandemic saga has dragged out even into 2022 and I too have been changing with the seasons, so I made my plans in accordance. As I penned my intentions, I made sure to picture myself where I am today whilst considering how I could improve her.
I aim to take slow intentional steps towards my goals rather than choosing to chase after them breathlessly. Whilst I’ll keep some of them to myself, I’ll also share some of my goals and intentions with you in a future post.
So, there’s that. 2022 came fast and we are already watching it all begin again. The hustle and bustle have begun to unfold and we’re getting sucked into it all once more. We’re already slouching in front of computer screens and bending over backwards to appease our capitalist society.
The show must go on, they say, and indeed it has started. Last year, I was sat in the back seats for most of it. I watched as it played out, biting my nails as I hoped for a climax before the curtains closed. Alas, the lights went out, the curtains closed, and it was as though the show ended before it began.
This year, my aim is not only to sit in the front row at the very least but to direct the show and pull the strings of my own. I know there’ll be twists and turns as in every good show worth a watch, but unlike last year when I watched them happen passively, I hope to stay present as I live through them.
Be ready 2022. Here I come!
Your restless romantic roamer