I’ve always liked New Year’s Eve. It’s probably my favorite holiday behind Halloween. Though I haven’t been faithful about choosing resolutions every year, nor sticking to every one of them, the ones I’ve done have led to some of the best decisions of my life, such as reading the Bible all the way through or writing a short story every month, which led to the birth of my first novel.
This year, I’m still pondering my specific resolutions. But I did want to greet 2024 in style. It’s how I roll when I want to see big changes.
The last time I went this hard for a new year was the turn into 2019, which ended up being the year I got my first real job, moved to Des Moines, adopted Cheshire, and made a plan for how I would publish my first book. I wore a red dress. This year, I am in gold.
I have a friend who is also very into setting goals and visions for the new year, and she told me this week that she chooses a word and a song to sum up what she’s hoping for in the new year. I haven’t yet selected my song, but yesterday I came up with my word: curiosity.
When I think of who I am and who I want to be, the decisions that seem to lead to the most satisfied, well-rounded version of myself and my life have come from the pursuit of sheer curiosity. It’s one of the few hidden passageways of my mind that allow me to circumvent the intrusion of my anxiety disorder and obsessive worry.
Too often, I’ve talked myself out of good ideas or new interests just because I over-questioned them. Why? How? How will I know I’ve succeeded? These questions are all well and good, but not every decision in life requires a federal case made out of it, and it’s more often than not killed what could’ve grown from a nebulous idea into a wonderful experience.
But when I allow myself to simply be curious, it helps me not to overwhelm myself with the possibilities, either of it going very well or very poorly. The answer to every question my anxious mind throws out is, I don’t know. Let’s find out!
I’ve begun a list of interests in which I am merely curious. Curiosity also doesn’t require me to define my level of interest; I don’t have to have read the comics to enjoy the movies, so to speak, or I can make a study of them. It’s up to me, and I can’t overthink it as easily. It allows me to be as mercurial as I wish, feeling passionately optimistic, depressed, sad, worried, or completely blasé without it impacting whether or not I allow myself to pursue what I’ve set my mind upon. Only my underlying interests determine my pursuits, not my extremely shifting mental state. That may hopefully make it easier to form plans and follow them through.
I’ve already seen the impact of this resolution in how I’ve spent this evening. I had a list of ideas, but right when it came time to either do or not do them, I spiraled into feeling tense, sad, worried, and irritable, as often happens and ruins things I hope to enjoy. I think it’s because I’m overwhelmed by my own expectations. But instead of letting that emotional burst define the evening one way or the other, I paused, acknowledged it, and let it pass. Then I proceeded with my plans and began almost immediately to feel enthusiastic about them again. Again, my brain asked whether I would have an epic night or end up disappointed, and I answered, I don’t know.
In the next few hours, I intend to set my goals and make them specific enough to be able to wrap my mind around them, but not so specific that I become overwhelmed and mentally check out. (I know; my brain is a minefield. Just imagine living here!) I hope it will be a year of intention, direction, and motion.
I’ve had lots of dreams all my life, and they don’t usually change much except to become clearer. This year, I’ve been pondering how to make them a reality, especially when no one has gone this exact way before me. The thought of the open waters ahead has periodically sent me into flights of excitement, spirals of anxiety, and fits of despair. (If you know me, you know I feel everything passionately.) With my new merely curious mentality, I hope to break the paralysis of envisioning too many possible paths and allow myself to set sail toward the goals I have set while remaining on more of an even keel.
I think I’m feeling brave enough to name a few of my general focuses for the coming year:
- Writing faithfully again, regardless of whether it comes to anything. I love it, and it would be a shame to give it up just because I may never be able to fully make my living off of it, not that I intend to stop trying.
- Publishing one more thing and launching it before the end of next year, as well as working out a sense of rhythm in my publishing career. If I can continuously have one story being edited, one ready to debut, and one whose first manuscript I’m writing, that rhythm could carry me far and allow me little spurts of appreciable, visible progress as well as continuous practice of the many skills I need.
- Engaging my courage and sense of direction to become the type of person I want to be. I can picture how she dresses, some of her pursuits, and the vibe she gives off, but shyness, fear, and lack of direction have often prevented me from becoming as much like her as I’d wish.
- Hopefully as a byproduct of the above, though less in my control, I hope to find more of my people, friends and relationships I can hope to keep for a long time, people who will love and grow with me and push me toward the person I’m trying to become.
One skill I’ve found I need to brush up on is the ability to adjust the sails and adapt in the midst of a plan. To change my strategy rather than despairing of the prize or trying to force my original plan to work even after learning it might not be the best way. Every day is unpredictable: moods, obstacles, and how much work each part of the plan takes can all vary greatly. The point is to not lose my nerve.
Thank you to all of my faithful readers who attend to my thoughts and stories. I appreciate your support and I wish you a wonderful and intentional new year!
Here’s to not losing your nerve.
