I'm happy to put 2022 to rest, but I am not without hope for the restoration of goodness and beauty in the coming year. I am reminded that this joyful idea, no matter how dark the world may seem, is at the center of my being; deeply and fundamentally rooted into my belief system. I am a prisoner of Hope, and I do not plan on allowing cynicism or fear to have the loudest voice in the room or the last word.
In the coming year, I hope to share coffee, break bread and connect deeply with those I love.
And I believe, as Henri Nouwen wrote, that this kind of hospitality is the act of meeting people where they are, loving people for who they are, and affirming their dignity as deeply, ineffably beloved. That's the energy I'm bringing with me into 2023, or at least I'm going to try my damnedest.
I hope to be sustained by friendship, which includes cultivating and tending to existing relationships with my friends, who are cooler than Miles Davis sippin' a milkshake in a snowstorm. I've failed miserably at this in recent years, but it's never too late to recommit.
Speaking of reupping your commitment, I plan to do whatever it takes to listen to my body over the next twelve months, which includes not being lazy about what I put into it. The same goes with returning to a daily walking routine and meditation practice and not letting the degenerative mental rot of laziness and comfort run the program. It may sound lofty, but it only takes a bit of self-control, not some kind of Herculean effort, to run a more efficient program. Self-control pays dividends. Self-control is empathy for your future self. Studies have shown that the same part of the brain that allows us to step into the shoes of others also helps us restrain ourselves. Empathy depends on your ability to overcome your own perspective, appreciate someone else's, and step into their shoes. Self-control is essentially the same skill, except those other shoes belong to your future self - a removed and hypothetical entity who might as well be a different person. So think of self-control as a kind of temporal selflessness. It's Present You taking a hit, enduring a difficult routine, to help out Future You. I's a radical form of love, and of self-love. Impulsivity and selfishness are two side of the same coin, as are their opposites: restraint and empathy. Restoring these practices will supercharge the positive side of that proverbial coin.
Am I rambling? I'm rambling.
Let's get through the rest of this list with a bit more promptness and a little less palaver.
In 2023, I choose to carve out my niche as a writer and a teacher, including writing a poem every day. This will be the year to abandon imposter syndrome and accept monetization as a form of love, which also will include breaking away from old patterns and old paradigms regarding how creative people go about making a living. I will also refuse to remain in any situation that pays me poorly, requires too much of my energy or underutilizes my talents.
I will continue to love my family near and far and continue to learn how to do that with a more open heart, celebrating their unique gifts and contributions to the world and to my life. I will try my best to never lose the marvel of the graces and joys that they provide; the influx of love that comes into my life through their eyes and through celebrating their uniqueness, their joys and their victories. I don't know how to measure the marvel in a way that it can be improved other than being more available, more celebratory and more present. Hell, I don't know if it's easily quantifiable, but suffice to say, it is expansive and abundant, and much like the love of my friends, I vow to do my best to never take them for granted.
I will stay soft.
I will fill my life with joyful things because, as Mary Oliver reminds us: "Joy is not meant to be a crumb."
I will, I will, I will... Shit, this IS getting rather long-winded. Let's wrap it up and bring it on home, shall we?
Some quick life advice for 2023:
Be your own advocate. Do not expect (or let) others do your thinking or fighting for you.
Never gossip.
Buy the better cheese.
Read. Often. While doing nothing else.
Never dumb yourself down or sweeten yourself up for anyone.
Embrace the fact that you're often wrong and admit it when you are.
Pay attention to what you rationalize -- especially if you're defensive about it.
Never demonize your bodily appetites, nor assume that they have your long-term health and happiness and well-being in mind.
Consider the most joyous outcome ask a viable possibility.
I could go on, but I'll just say this: I wish you hope, joy, dignity, purpose and boundless love, from within and without, through the new year.
You matter, and not just to me.
