The nice thing about reflective writing for me is that ninety percent of the time, no matter where I start emotionally, I’ll write myself into a pep talk. I think that’s why daily blogging has been helpful. But even in poetry, which I usually start because I’m moody, I don’t feel right unless I’m found some light at the end. My disposition for happy endings does me some favors in short-form writing.
I realized this again this evening after joining my friend Jenna’s virtual workshop (as part of her Hold Space Support System) where we spent some time writing letters to our future self. I’ve done this for work each year, but I’m a bit ashamed to admit I never wrote my letter in December/January as intended . . . hopping into the workshop this evening seemed like a good way to check it off my list. And honestly, I needed to get a little out of my head. My sleeping has still been interrupted (not helped by a bit of extra drinking I need to nip in the bud) and I had to push myself today to be as productive as I wanted to be. Things got done, but it was a battle.
I thought having a little dedicated reflection and creative time with the accountability of a workshop might be good for me. Plus I really wanted to hear my friend’s voice and support what she’s doing right now: creating a safe space for people who need support right now (aka, all of us . . . the world is being a little bit bullshit).
It worked. When I started in on my letter I was reflecting on how out of control I felt right now, how uncertain I was with what’s happening in the world and at work. How can I make a meaningful impact? What the right way to be there for sixty people all managing their own anxieties in their own way while knowing we need to keep the business moving so we can continue supporting everyone in the long-term?
That Hamilton lyric just came to mind: “I wrote my way out.” That’s what it feels like to me. As I write a competing voice in my head refutes every negative thought and I’m left by the end feeling stronger. Not more certain of what’s to come. Not even necessarily more optimistic. But with a surety that I can bring my best and weather whatever does come.
My word of the year is Strength and this year will test it. That’s okay. That’s why I choose the words I do: to find them within myself.
With Love,
Natalie