I picked the word Strength.
The strength to start something new. The strength to build new roads in my career and weather difficult choices. The strength to live my values and be present in my life while creating a foundation for the future. The strength in my body, endurance over weight loss. The strength of discipline. The strength to ask myself the hard questions and ask for help when I need it. The strength to be mw, to forgive myself, to love myself, to change . . .
I summed it up with this quote from Avatar: The Last Airbender:
In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength.
-Uncle Iroh
When I chose Strength I had no idea how it would show up this year. The pandemic changed everything and suddenly Strength became more important than ever. That inner strength, that resilience . . . the knowledge that I could weather through tough times. When I look back now I think I’ve had a pretty good year, as an individual, but the weight of the collective was crushing at times. People were losing jobs. I was worried about my work and the hard choices we might have to make. Working from my apartment that wasn’t set up for long-term remote work could feel stifling. I went months without being touched or hugged.
I felt like I was actively fighting off depression every day in April and May. I leaned on every habit I could find. I kept meditating, kept blogging, connected with friends virtually, and got really into my exercise schedule. But there was also some strength in letting myself fall apart, just a little, when I needed to. The strength to trust myself to feel deeper than I wanted and to break just enough that I could see new paths to becoming whole.
This year is so big, a decade in twelve months, that it’s hard for me to organize all the pieces into a neat reflection. There is a novel in all the lessons I’ve learned and the stories that have unfolded. I’ll state the obvious and hope anything that falls through the cracks is captured in the other hundreds of words I posted this year:
I moved to Wisconsin. This is the big one and definitely called on Strength. I wrote about it in detail at the time, but this is such a miracle to me. At the beginning of the year, I wrote on a vision board that by the end of the year I wanted to know my direction. I couldn’t figure out a way to reconcile my desire to be home, to be close to my family, to be in Door County to raise kids . . . and to keep a career I loved. A year ago it was already starting to pull me apart and by May I was in shreds. And suddenly (thank you She-Ra), I had clarity. It was time to go, everything in the universe was telling me that, and I had the strength to listen.
I ran. Not a marathon like I wanted but my first half marathon since I was twenty-one and beat that personal best by nearly twenty minutes. Then I ran another half marathon in the fall (unofficial this time) and beat my time again. I did my longest run ever in May — 15 miles — and though I went through some slower cycles for running I’ve kept it up all year. It’s so obvious when I’m not in my running schedule how much it positively impacts my mental health. I went on my last run for the year this morning, a five-mile down to the harbor and back over slushy and snowy streets.
I wrote. In this blog mostly. My creative writing lacked the productivity of last year (though I landed on the new idea I’m excited about), but I kept up the practice of writing something every day and posting it here for everyone to see. Typos and all. An amazing oscillation between reflection and random and poetry and unnecessary and something I can post in 5 minutes and something that took me an hour. I whine about it somedays — why did I make this commitment to myself, no one asked me to??? — but it’s done more to connect me to writing again these past two years than I could have hoped. And that’s two years, with a post every damn day. In a way, it’s a recording for myself — a chronicle of my life for the years I do this that I can look back on someday.
I meditated. Every day. For those of you counting, that’s a three year streak.
I officiated the wedding of my two best friends. Life is very beautiful.
I queried Jack’s story. And though nothing is moving with it anymore, I felt like I gave my best effort for where it was at — my goal was to put it out there and I really feel like I did that. When the pandemic ramped up I put that story aside and decided to focus on moving forward with new projects for now.
I went through major changes at work. I wrote down last year that I wanted to build new work opportunities. Since then I’ve become a manager, taken on marketing alongside HR, and am now also going to pilot a new education team. I got a promotion/title bump too. And it was tough — it’s still tough some days — but I didn’t want to stand still and that’s definitely not what happened. I’ve learned so much and I feel like I have more opportunities in my career than I did a year ago.
I’m practicing some strength to forgive myself and show compassion on the things I did want to do and didn’t. I didn’t read as many books as I wanted to (79 right now . . . which is nothing to shrug off but reading 168 books in 2019 really set me up for failure here). I didn’t write a new book. I didn’t run a marathon. I didn’t hold perfect routines. Some things were out of my control. Some things were in my control but the weight of the pandemic, economic collapse, social injustice, and the election had me rebalancing priorities. Some nights I wanted to drink wine and some mornings I wanted to sleep in and that was all okay.
I’m ending this year with a stronger relationship with my family, my friends, and ultimately with myself. Geography mattered to me this year and I learned sometimes the stories we make up about why we can’t have what we want just aren’t true.
I’m spending the last day of 2020 with family and virtually with friends. I plan to have some champagne and play some games and laugh my way into the new year. Right now I look out the window and see the sun on the snow and the gentle wind stirring the surface of the bay. I have two sleeping cats waiting for me to finish writing, a heating pad in my lap, and a Diet Coke waiting in the fridge.
Thank you 2020, for being a year of change and growth for me. But now it’s time for you to finally, finally go.
With Love,
Natalie