I read something recently that suggested that New Year’s resolutions and the like should really start with spring. Spring is truly the beginning of the year, a time for growth and energy, while January is still deep in winter; a time to rest, rejuvenate, and be cozy. Why push ourselves to start anew in a season of rest? But because my own journey around the sun restarts at the end of December, January is the natural beginning of another kind of year for me. I can’t help thinking about what I want my next year to look like.
And this year, I have so much to be excited about. My latest year has started with a myriad of great things: a clean bill of health, a new niece, a promotion at work; but most of all, an end to isolating. I am making plans, something I hesitated doing last year knowing my health could upend them at a moment’s notice. So many of my original plans had already been upended, some rescheduled and others cancelled. I tiptoed through last year hoping things would get better. Now I’m grateful I did, because it means I can enjoy this year to the fullest.
I’ve spent the first month of the year keeping busy. I’ve had great dinners out with friends at restaurants I haven’t been to yet. I visited one of the many bookmarked wine bars I have on my map, and cozied up with my book. I took an in-person dance class for the first time in years. I went to trivia at my local bar, which had started right before COVID hit. I visited friends in their new home upstate. I’ve been trying new recipes. I’ve rarely said no to anything. It’s a fresh start for me, and I hope I can keep it going.
On the flip side, this beginning of this year has been incredibly maddening on a global scale. I am continually disappointed by the new lows people in power sink to every day. Even as there is a ceasefire in Gaza, I see reports of it being violated every day. New executive orders are being pushed out that make a lot of us who aren’t white and male worried about ourselves, our families, and our friends. Climate disasters are clearly getting worse every year, but no one is talking about them in the larger context of what needs to be remedied. And it’s unclear how many people are paying attention to any of it; or if those of us who can afford to are just choosing to look away.
My hopes for myself in this year seem at odds with the reality of the world. What does it mean to try to be happy in my everyday life while the world is burning? Does it mean I’m ignoring what’s happening, or does it mean keeping space for my own mental health? It’s a luxury to be able to say that last sentence: “keeping space for my mental health”. It means I have a roof over my head, food to eat, financial security. So now I wonder: how can I do more good? How do I make that a part of all the things I want in my own life this year?
Some of these things are already on my wish list for this year. I want to volunteer for a local political campaign. I want to continue making eco-friendly swaps at home. I want to cook down my pantry, because there are too many things hiding in it that are delicious. But so many of the changes we need in this world require people to come together. I am hoping that one or all of the things I do this year lead me to more community. People who are like-minded, who share my concerns, who also want to work hard and play hard for the same causes. There are people who have been saying this all along, but it has suddenly crystallized for me now that we don't get through this, or make things better, without working together. I was on the phone with a friend last week, and we were both feeling down because of the endless barrage of bad news. When I texted her the next day, I realized I hadn’t said a single positive thing while we were on the phone, and sent her a list of three things that were good in the last week. I think it made her smile, and it pulled me out of my mood, too.
A new friend recently said that in an ideal world, people would be thriving, not just surviving. I know we’re a far cry from that right now. But just surviving in such a fraught time also feels like letting the bad guys win. I want to thrive at dance class and dinner out while calling my representatives and writing postcards to get out the vote. There’s no energy to do the work without having some fun. I hope I can carry this throughout this year, and that you can too; without it, we won’t get anywhere.
