I felt really grumpy on New Year’s Day this year. The vast expanse of 2022 was stretching out in front of me with not much to spark joy in my diary. Being a naturally reflective person, I wanted to reflect on 2021 and wondered whether I should do this during my 2 weeks break over the festive period. However, my brain needed the time off so I decided to leave it until I got back down to work in early January. And if I’m honest, I’m not sure that I did really want to reflect but I thought that I “should”. I felt like 2021 had been harder for me than 2020 and that it had been a stressful year. I couldn’t face the idea of sitting down and writing paragraphs, or even bullet points, about it. My 2020 end of year reflection took the form of a mind-map, which had spread over a couple of sides of A4. I couldn’t even face taking this approach for 2021.
I had already recognised that I wanted to bring more fun and joy into my life. One of the first actions I took to help clear my New Year funk was therefore to contact a friend. I suggested we arrange a fun weekend for the two of us for the near future. While I had thought it unlikely that she would say “no”, I had been hesitating about broaching the idea in case it wouldn’t be possible. I needn’t have worried. Buoyed by her enthusiasm for my suggestions, I already felt happier and more energised to re-engage with the world of work.
And then I came across a post by Teresa Wilson on LinkedIn.[1] Teresa encouraged her readers to remember the word “yet”. A small but powerful word that can help bring self-compassion to New Year reflections. A reminder that we are all on a constantly evolving journey. The post provided me with a deeper motivation to reflect; taking in the view, getting some perspective and reconnecting to what matters is a pause that facilitates change. “We don’t grow in the pause, but we grow from the pause.” I also realised that I hadn’t been ready to reflect…”yet”. I didn’t need to feel bad that I had been putting it off.
I identified a way in that gave me energy; dividing a piece of A4 into 12 sections, one for each month, I drew pictures as well as including some words to capture the significant events and feelings from each month. I looked back through my calendar which helped me remember more positive experiences, creating a more balanced view of the year. I also noted what my different experiences had given me and which of my values they aligned with. Key themes emerged of building meaningful connections with others, being helpful, following my curiosity and learning. There were even moments of joy and fun; I had afterall secured bookings for a regular dance practice again which had been thwarted earlier in the pandemic. This had significantly boosted my mental wellbeing.
Having reflected on 2021, I wrote down my intentions for 2022. Rather than resolutions (things I want to achieve) these are aspects of how I want to be and things I want to do that can guide implementation of my 10-year plan. Well, I say my 10-year plan, it was actually created by Steve Chapman[2] in 2020 but it is a plan I whole-heartedly agree with.
The process of doing stuff and then seeing what happens resonated with me as soon as I saw it. However, it was only during 2021 that I really took on board that it is a 10-year plan. A plan for the long-term. I think this idea is still quite counter-cultural. While some people will agree that exploring options can be useful in enabling career choice decisions, I think there is a widespread assumption in society that this should be a short-term process. The purpose being to identify and select an option (or options for a portfolio career) to then focus on and set goals in relation to. For me, Steve’s plan recognises that taking a more emergent approach is a valid longer-term strategy.
So, this year, with the print-copy I received for Christmas by my computer, I have been enacting the plan with a new lightness of being. A lightness that I hadn’t felt since the first half of 2019 when I left full-time employment. I have taken actions with an explicit intent to see what happens. And a feeling that I am finally letting go of being attached to a particular outcome from my actions. I’m hoping this way of being will last.
[1] You can read Teresa’s full post here: https://www.linkedin.com/feed/update/urn:li:activity:6882368705800486913/
[2] To find out more about Steve and his work visit www.canscorpionssmoke.com/about/
Seeing life's tapestry 