Preparing for 2019
A year ago I was fresh into the full-time freelance world and the word “flexible” was pressing down on my heart as I looked ahead to 2018. It made sense. In my new role as a full-time freelancer, I knew I’d have to be flexible with income, type of work, fluctuation of busyness, and more, but I had no idea that flexible would come to demand so much more from me.
When I look back over this year, it feels like J and I have lived at least five years of life in 12 months. A new state, new home, new jobs, new community, new traditions. So much transition and change took place as we spent the first half of the year in Nashville, preparing for the move and saying goodbye to the state where we got engaged and married, followed by even more transition and change as we spent the second half settling into Wisconsin.
Last year for Christmas Joshua bought me the Q&A a day 5-year journal and I just recently completed my first year in it. On December 17 I came to this question: “If you had to move to a new city, where would you move?” A little over a year ago, I answered that question with a city in Minnesota followed by “for snow and quiet.” We might not be in Minnesota, but we’re in a small town where quiet overflows and snow lines the ground quite often—and I am so grateful.
I feel awe and a little bit of fear when I think of how much can change in a year. Yet, here we are, just days away from another new year, and I wonder where I’ll be, what I’ll be writing in 12 months from now.
Do you feel that same tension of excitement and fear? Are you ready for what’s to come?
This past year was one of the first years that I really pushed into being present, to paying attention to all that was happening around me, to living in the moment. Part of that effort was a result of leaving social media and refusing the pressure to capture, document, and share everything that I was doing, but part of it was also a new commitment to mindfulness.
I want to press into that mindfulness even more in 2019. I want to notice and celebrate the details of every day rather than begging time to rush by just so I can get to the highlights of the year. For, our lives are made not by two, three, or four big moments but by the small ones of every single day—the way the coffee smells in the morning, the look on your loved ones’ faces when you pull the roast beef out of the oven, the sound of the snow crunching underfoot, the way children can play and play and play. These are the small memories that are quietly stitching together the entire fabric of our lives while we often rush past them, racing toward yet another highlight. They are also the memories we’ll long for more and more as we turn older and begin reminiscing the past.
I don’t want to wait until I’m in old age to remember and celebrate those moments. I want to live in them and celebrate them now, with full and complete mindfulness.
So, here’s to a renewed commitment to mindfulness. . . to 2018, for all it gifted us with in both joy and sorrow, and to 2019, for all it has yet to bring—both its joy and sorrow. May we find the courage to be mindful, to pause and be present in it all.
In your corner,