Let's Be Real

A new year. A blank page. A clean slate. Whatever the colloquialism, the sentiment is the same-start fresh, set some goals, and become a new and improved version of the old you. I see you, New Year's Resolutions, and I won't be fooled again. Setting the arbitrary date of January 1 to suddenly begin solving a life time of compounded problems-student loan debt, bad relationship patterns, the last five pounds- it's a lot of pressure for one person to shoulder, especially in the age of influencers and curated IG feeds.

The truth that no one will tell you is that the short cut doesn't exist. Sure, setting a date to begin getting your shit together is great in theory, but the reality is that personal growth and development is a constant, slow grind. If anything, the struggles of 2020-personally, socially, politically, highlight this truth. The past year was not the isolated dumpster fire that the media would have you believing, but a cumulative landfill that has been added to surreptitiously over the decades. COVID isn't a one-off, racial inequality has always existed, the earth has been warming up a fraction of degree over centuries. It cannot be fixed with a few spin classes and self help classes. If I sound like too much of a Debbie-Downer, stick with me.

This year, the flipping of my calendar page will not usher in the revolution of my entire existence until Now. I will not delve into a new fitness regime with unattainable goals, I won't endeavor to learn a new language in a year or less, I won't hire a guru to lead me to enlightenment. I will probably clean out a closet or two, donate some items to local shelters, and generally try to be a good human toward my fellow man.

The truth is, I am grateful for the quiet journey inward that 2020 provided. It wasn't without loss, my grandmother was quietly stolen from my family by this insidious virus, and we were robbed of the past 10 months with her. She was a living example of quiet persistence and persevering, a harbinger of the peace and incremental growth that results from small, patient steps forward.

The small office I manage has seen financial loss, I miss my friends. But what I gained was so much more-an appreciation for the time I did have with family and loved ones pre-pandemic, a love of solitude and contemplation that I didn't make time for previously, and the confidence that comes from being alone and peaceful in your own space. I was gifted an extra year with my pre-teen son, a year without constant track meets and band practices and nights out at the movies. My long distance boyfriend and I perfected (mostly) the lost art of letter-writing and phone conversations. Even my pets benefitted from the time at home-my dog has never been happier or received as much attention as she did in 2020. Almost every interaction I experienced with another person was more thoughtful, more compassionate, in light of our shared struggles and empathy for one another.

I am not in a rush to put these things behind me and pretend that the past year didn't happen, or to blindly believe that the problems that surfaced in the last 12 months have been solved. There's no fad diet, no get rich quick scheme, no new president that will solve anyone's problems with simply the ushering in of a new year. My intentions for tomorrow, and the day after that, and hopefully many more to come, are to hold on to the lessons that 2020 taught me, to continue to make small steps forward in my personal growth, and to continue to seek out the silver-lining perspective in every situation.