Welcome 2022. In the words of Adele, go easy on me, or all of us really. Truth be told I feel fortunate to be sitting here in front of the fire sipping my coffee and typing away. I am filled with gratitude that I have come through another year relatively unscathed and with my health and humor in tact. I told my husband that if 2021 taught me anything, it’s that I have remained insatiably curious. I will carry that energy into 2022 because it has served me well.
Since we are now 3 days deep into a new year, I have not been blind to the onslaught of apps and aids promising to help me get my life in order. It use to be my favorite part, the acquisition of a new planner, habit trackers, goal setters and meal plans all in an effort to help me become the most organized and productive version of myself. That would make me happy.
That would make me happy?
Well, we all know what happened in 2020, right? The spectacular cancellation of all things as a pandemic descended upon us. Regardless of your thoughts on the particulars none of us can deny that our plans went to shit. 2021 was really just 2020: the extended cut. After a small bout of depression and my ever present anxiety hosting the party, I threw my planner out. I decided that I didn’t need to see progress that wasn’t happening. I didn’t need to be reminded to breathe when I caught myself checking and rechecking my breathing several times a day in low key panic. Tracking, counting, trying to close activity rings…it was all just making me feel worse. This never ending pursuit of improvement is just effing exhausting.
And you know what happened when I stopped?
Nothing. I actually kept progressing without all the pressure. The realization set in that I didn’t have to earn rest. I could just relax when I felt like it. I learned that health looks and feels different for everyone. I learned that food can be something I don’t think about all day. I learned that “no pain no gain” is bullshit and dancing is way more fun. I learned that I didn’t have to clean or do laundry or wash dishes before scrapbooking. I had been living my life by these arbitrary rules that were meant to make me feel like a better human without ever considering if it did or why I proritized those things. As any child of an immigrant can tell you, your worth is determined by your contribution. How hard you work and how much you work. That stuff seeps into all areas of your life. Our entire society is built on the strange and shaky premise that “hard work” equates worthiness and entitlement. That we are only as good as what we produce. That we must work hard in order to play hard.