Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

One Word 365

Waking Up is Hard to Do

I’m a bit of a daydreamer. Something I’m learning about myself is how much I live inside my head, so much so that I often don’t notice things the first time. (On the flip side, I can be scarily observant, picking up on feelings and seeing needs without anything being spoken.) I can sit with myself and have entire conversations in my mind. I can imagine scenarios for every circumstance I’m facing. Sometimes I’m just replaying a movie I’ve seen or a book I’ve read, letting the images come to life inside my brain.

It is, like most attributes, a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I’m a writer, a curse because I’ve been known to zone out in conversations or while driving. Sometimes there are so many things on my mind that I can’t see what’s right in front of me.

It’s a great coping mechanism when I don’t want to face reality but when reality is ignored for too long, all kinds of problems follow. Sticking my head in the sand has left me exposed and vulnerable, even though it seems like my problems disappear. (I can’t see you; you can’t see me.)

This is why it was so important to me that I choose a word for 2018 that counteracted my natural tendencies. (It is reflected in previous words for the year like “enjoy” and “present.” But those did not really go far enough for this time in my life.)

This is what I said about the choice in January: 

My word for this year was “Awake.”

“I am waking up to myself, my needs, my abilities. I am waking up to the world around me. I am waking up to the ways my upbringing was different than those in other parts of the country. I am waking up to the realities of life. I am vowing to live with my eyes open, to not turn away when what I see is too hard/messy/brutal. (And also to not turn away when it is too lovely/sparkly/beautiful. I have a problem seeing that, too.)

“I want to live this life intentionally, not drifting along waiting for something to happen to me. (This is mostly a work-related vow. I will write more about this later.) I am a daydreamer by nature and if I’m looking at you, sometimes I’m not seeing you at all. I’m living a story I’ve made up in my head or thinking about a conversation I had last year. It’s going to be hard work for me to recognize this as it’s happening and pull myself out of it to be fully engaged with the person right in front of me.”

It is now December, and I have not written a single word about this journey this year. Maybe that’s not exactly true. Maybe I have written about it in different ways. 

This was a year of waking up and taking action. Of conscious choices and decisions instead of going with the circumstantial flow.

Late last year, I wrestled with the idea of going to work part time outside my house. I had gotten myself into a comfortable rhythm of writing and coffee dates and whole days of “freedom” but we were struggling financially and I was struggling emotionally more than I knew. After a gentle kick-in-the-pants by friends and husband, I started a job in January that I was nervous about at first but learned quickly was the perfect fit for me. I love it. And it has forced my eyes wide open. I still miss the “freedom” of having an entire day to myself, and I can’t keep up with the housework all the time (but this has initiated more family involvement in keeping the house clean) but overall, I am more productive and less likely to procrastinate and feeling more purposeful than I ever was staying home all day. 

In May I turned 40 and I embraced it by starting a list of things I no longer wanted to say “someday” about. It’s not a bucket list nor is there a deadline to finish the list by the time I’m done with my 40s or anything like that. It’s just a way for me to catalog what’s important enough to stop dreaming about and start acting toward. On the list are races I’d like to run (more about that later), writing goals, travel destinations, and ways to express and establish my identity. It’s a working list both in the fact that it’s always under in progress and I’m continually working on something on the list. Throughout the year,  I took risks on my after 40 list: playing guitar in church, doing a Whole30 eating plan, scheduling family photos taken by a professional, entering writing contests.

I released myself from counseling. This, too, needed a prompt from my therapist. We had gotten to the point where I wasn’t talking about one major struggle anymore but giving a positive report about a variety of things. At her suggestion, I considered whether I was ready to step away from these monthly appointments I’d had for almost three years, and even though it’s scary sometimes to consider whether you’re ready to tackle life without an arm of support you’ve been leaning on, I did think I was ready. I considered it my first birthday gift of the year.

I committed to running two times a week. I ran in the rain and cold and on the beach in Florida when I thought the humidity might choke me. I ran a 5K on Thanksgiving morning when temperatures were frigid, and I ran the whole thing without anyone coaching me to keep going.

I said what I was thinking, even when it didn’t come out the way I wanted. Relationships survived. (This has been and is still a major fear of mine: that expressing my opinion and thoughts will damage relationships.) One of these conversations happened on a family vacation, and I remember all the times I’ve held my tongue because I didn’t want to rock the boat. I still don’t want to rock the boat, but my opinions and needs and voice are important, even if they are the minority. Another conversation happened at church. My husband and I had been holding in months of frustration and one day it all came out and it was not exactly kind or pleasant. It was truthful and I don’t regret saying what we said, only how we said it. Most amazing to me is that we were not asked to leave nor ostracized from the group. Saying those things out loud had led to us taking more initiative to include people, and I feel like our bonds are stronger with our church family, even if it isn’t always what I want it to be.

I attended more than one prayer vigil/rally/protest. One time I was interviewed for the newspaper. I am naturally empathetic to the hurts of this world and also easily overwhelmed by the needs. So I have a tendency to feel everything to the point of being mentally paralyzed and needing to spend the day in bed crying or to bury my head in the sand and pretend everything is fine, fine, fine. Taking the news (and social media) in doses and taking action where I can makes me feel engaged with the rest of humanity. I still look away or ignore more often than I’d like. The news, the negativity, it is all still so hard to bear. But in waking up, I find that it’s often easier to make informed decisions.

I recognized that sometimes my awakening was more like that of someone who is sleep-deprived. You can be awake but not in a place of alertness, and it was in those times that saying whatever I was thinking was hurtful and damaging. Rest is a necessary counterbalance to being awake, not just in the literal sense of talking about sleep cycles. 

And maybe that’s where this word is leading me for 2019. (2019? Writing that number makes me feel like time is a myth.)

As I’ve started thinking more about my word for this coming year, but I feel need to focus more on listening. On silence. Both are lacking in my life right now. Sometimes I choose a word for the year that I can predict how it will stretch me. I know what comes from silence and listening. It scares me a little. But I think I need it.

And I need to ponder it more.

I think the word is going to be “listen” and it is going to be difficult.

Photo by Sai Kiran Anagani on Unsplash

When I look back at the words I’ve chosen (or that have chosen me) since that first year I started, I see a progression. And growth. 

2018: Awake

2017: Tender

2016: Present (Which ended up sounding a lot like my reason for choosing “awake”)

2015: Whole

2014: Enjoy

2013: Release

If you’ve never chosen a word for the year, I’d encourage you to think about it. I’m always surprised at how the word shows up in my life when I choose to focus my attention there.

And if you do choose a word, leave a comment and let me know. I’d love to hear why you chose that particular word.

New year, new word

Every year since 2013, I’ve picked one word that I want to focus on, a guide for the year to come. (You can see all the words I’ve chosen and reflections on those years here.) It still sounds too simple to be effective, but at the end of each year, I can testify to the changes these words have brought about in my life.

This last year might be the year that I’ve written the least about my word and its impact on me. In December of 2016, after life circumstances left my heart feeling hard and impenetrable, I chose to focus on “tender.” I needed to let in the things that hurt. I needed to feel things deeply. I wanted my heart to break in the kind of way the ground needs to be broken every spring in preparation to receive a seed that will grow up from the dirt. 

When I look back on the year, there was heartbreak, for sure, circumstances I didn’t understand. We started the year with my husband unemployed and then the transmission went out in our van. After my husband found a job, his unemployment compensation was denied and we ended up needing to fight the decision months into the new year. A project I had emotionally invested in fell through. We struggled to dig out of a financial hole, and when we desperately wanted to take steps forward on buying a home, we were denied a loan.

These things stirred up a lot of bitterness and resentment and while I would normally want to just stuff those feelings right back down, all of these disappointments were like manure spread across my heart, making the ground more fertile. (Can I put in a plug for regular appointments with a therapist or counselor? My therapist’s office became the place that my heart busted open again and again as we turned over things I thought I had buried.)

Before I chose to be more tender, I feared what would happen. I worried that cracking my heart open just a little would break me completely until I was shattered–like innumerable pieces scattered across the kitchen floor. I was cracked, yes, and I was broken, yes, but I learned that I could be pieced back together. Different. Stronger, somehow. 

And having survived being broken once, I dared to let my heart break again.

It started a couple of years ago with refugees. I opened my heart. I took action. And they have changed my life. This year I took another step and started learning about racial injustice and how to be part of the reconciliation process. (Mostly I’m just learning and rethinking everything I’ve been taught.) Late this summer, my concern moved toward undocumented youth, those whose parents brought them to the United States illegally but whose entire lives have been lived here. They are fighting for a path to citizenship and I stand with them in that fight.

I ended 2017 softer than I thought possible but also stronger. My heart is not a bitter, barren place, and though there is much work to be done where justice is concerned, I am encouraged and energized by the things I’ve seen, the people I’ve met, the stands I’ve taken. Tender shoots of something green are growing in the soil of my heart again.

Where all of this will take me in 2018, I really don’t know. I have a lot to learn, and I don’t do nearly enough of the kind of work I think I ought to do where advocacy is concerned. But if 2017 was an internal decision to open myself up to caring about people and causes I hadn’t previously considered then 2018 is about getting out of my seat and standing, walking, singing, shouting, and doing more of what I see others doing. It is about sharing the tweets and opinions I’ve been too scared to share because someone might not like it. I’m not out to divide. I’m physically ill when I lose “friends” or get into arguments online (or in person).

But this year I also learned more about my personality (I’m a 9 on the Enneagram if you’re familiar) and my tendency is to keep the peace at all costs. To bury my head in the sand when the shots are flying. To engage in all kinds of diversions when I don’t want to feel one.more.thing.

That ends in 2018. (Or it lessens. Let’s be real.)

So my word for the year is “awake.” I am waking up to myself, my needs, my abilities. I am waking up to the world around me. I am waking up to the ways my upbringing was different than those in other parts of the country. I am waking up to the realities of life. I am vowing to live with my eyes open, to not turn away when what I see is too hard/messy/brutal. (And also to not turn away when it is too lovely/sparkly/beautiful. I have a problem seeing that, too.)

I want to live this life intentionally, not drifting along waiting for something to happen to me. (This is mostly a work-related vow. I will write more about this later.) I am a daydreamer by nature and if I’m looking at you, sometimes I’m not seeing you at all. I’m living a story I’ve made up in my head or thinking about a conversation I had last year. It’s going to be hard work for me to recognize this as it’s happening and pull myself out of it to be fully engaged with the person right in front of me.

So, this is me. And this is my work for the year. Awake.

What about you? Do you ever pick a word to focus on for the year? If you need some help getting started, I recommend the community over at OneWord365. (Join the Facebook group also!)

Stay tuned. It’s going to be an eyes wide open kind of year.

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