It’s a funny little dance we all do – We get to the end of December and wonder where the year went. We look back on the past twelve months, focusing on all the things that didn’t go as planned, the things left undone, and tell ourselves that next year will be different. We resolve that next year will be the year that things are different.
Twelve months later there we are again, sitting at the end of December, dwelling on time we wish were better spent. Spin, reverse, repeat.
I often say that I don’t believe in regret. Of course, not believing in it and not feeling it are two different beasts altogether. For the most part I manage to keep facing forward, channeling my emotional energy toward the now and the next. But I still get stuck from time to time, rewinding my mental tape and playing back an awkward exchange or opportunity I left behind.
This year I’d like to shake up my routine. Go freestyle, if you’ll allow me to stretch this terribly cheesy dance metaphor.
(Ok, maybe not quite that freestyle.)
In all seriousness, this year I am resolving to strike the idea of resolutions from my mind. I am resolving not to let another year go by before I take the time to take stock of my life. I should (and will) be thinking not just about what I want but how I’m advancing toward what I want – And you better believe I’ll be thinking about it more often than once every twelve months.
And since there’s no better time than the present, I’ll throw the first thought out here – I want to spend more time with people. With old friends, with new friends, with friends I haven’t made yet, with friends who might just be more than friends.
Somewhere along the line – maybe because I lived abroad for so long, maybe because it was just easier, probably a combination of both – I transferred most of my human contact into the digital world. That isn’t to say it isn’t meaningful contact (I wouldn’t count you out, intrepid readers), but it’s not enough. Nor should it be.
I am going to reach out more, try to get out of my comfort zone (and consequently out of my comfy pants) and do more with others. If you count yourself amongst my friends, I hope you’ll reach out too. I used to think that I shouldn’t have to ask, that surely people would extend invitations if they really wanted to see me. But when I’m not asking either, how can I expect you to do the same?
If you don’t yet count yourself amongst my friends, I still hope you’ll reach out. Last year I wrote a post about letters, in which I asked people to make time for snail mail, and it resulted in some wonderful correspondence. Including a lovely reader who just recently sent me these art cards. I’ve hung them on the wall as a reminder that stretching my hand out into the unknown is not just possible – it’s necessary.