Good Riddance

Ahhh, a new year. 365 days… well, 364 now… of endless possibilities, fresh starts, a new me or you. Little blank squares on a calendar just waiting for us to be whatever we make of them. Celebrating a new year, and the resolutions that often go with such, has a long history.

That said, it’s kind of a load of crap. Right?

Don’t get me wrong… I love noise makers, party hats, and singing “Auld Lang Syne” as much as the next person. But, just as Valentine’s Day says, “Show those you love that you love them TODAY”—on one specific day in the middle of February—a New Year makes some pretty empty promises. And to that I say, good riddance.

January 1 offers no more possibility to us than yesterday, the day before that, last month, or last year. To quote my favorite musical (RENT), ultimately there’s “No Day but Today”—whether that is Jan 1, March 12, July 29, or November 3. Don’t we get to decide?

Admittedly, some days, months, and years are better than others. Some are joyful, full of light and laughter… memory makers that are extraordinary. Others are (or can be) really hard, exhausting, sad, even lonely. Most are… well, they just… are.

It makes me think of the John Lennon quote…

Or the old Yiddish proverb…

Let’s face it, we love the idea of possibility more than the actual process.

366 days ago, I wrote “Feeling Good.” My guiding words for 2021 were Intention, Courage, and Growth.

Did I pursue those? Yes.

Did I do and accomplish all I thought I would a year ago? Nope.

Of course, leave it to me to have three words instead of just one. Classic overachiever.

If turning the calendar over is merely a practice in reflection, then I can look back and adequately assess my year. I can say that my priorities were intact, which feels good. I was more intentional with some things (my relationships, for instance), and far less so with others (my writing). I was courageous enough to take on a huge photography assignment in the spring, and to re-enter the workforce part-time in the summer.

I value growth (personal, professional, emotional, etc.), and while it was a less painful process in 2021 than in past years, there were definitely moments were I had to stretch… and I recognize the ways that I’ve evolved and changed for the better. I can also admit that 2020’s word (Boundaries) remains a struggle for me. (Admitting it is the first step, right?)

As for some other things I understand more, well…

I too often sacrifice my wants and needs for others. (It feels selfish even writing those words.) Putting others’ first can be noble, admirable… and it can be exhausting. We can’t fill another’s cup if our own jug is empty! Guilt may be a useless emotion, but it’s a powerful one… and it makes too many decisions for me. This manifests mostly in my inability to say, “No.” The shortest complete sentence in the history of sentences… and apparently so damn hard for me to say. But, I’m practicing.

And…

I let fear hold me back. It isn’t trepidation, shivering and hiding in the corner fear. Heck, often I don’t consciously know it’s even happening. It’s sneaky and manifests as “I’m too busy” or “There’s not enough time” or my favorite, “Maybe tomorrow.” When, in reality, the hidden message… the one I don’t really want to acknowledge… is, “Maybe I’m not good enough” or “What if I fail?”.

You can probably see how those create a fear cycle of not meeting the possibilities of my potential.

Green Day released a song called “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” when I was a senior in college… back when I was a bright-eyed 20-year-old and a world of possibilities was legitimately at my feet.

Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
So make the best of this test, and don’t ask why
It’s not a question, but a lesson learned in time

I’ve loved the song since it debuted, but its meaning for me has changed over time. Nearly twenty-five years later, the lyrics are both ominous and optimistic, hopeful yet sobering. None of us is promised tomorrow, but it’s fair to say that I likely have less life ahead of me than I’ve already lived. I’m not being overly dramatic; I’m just going on the average life expectancy of women in the United States. Regardless, that thought is humbling.

I’ve lived enough life that I can see the turning points, the decisions (good and bad), and where they’ve led me. Wisdom may or may not come with age, but it definitely comes from experience. And, time teaches many lessons, regardless of your willingness to learn them. I still have more living, learning, growing, and hurting to do—no doubt—but I trust the process. I know now that it is the process that offers me possibility. What I do with it… well, that’s up to me.

As for the year ahead, I know whatever it is or will be… that’s up to me too. So my word for 2022, it’s…

Why?

Because the clock is ticking, the possibilities are endless, and I’m in charge!