I'm happy to admit that I spent my winter-break as promised, in my pajamas, eating cake, watching LOTR and all seven of the Harry Potter movies. That's 30 hours of wizards and trolls, y'all. I have no regrets.
While my wizard-a-thon was very restorative, I did not enter the new year with a whole lot of energy. I was feeling pretty "meh" about the whole thing. I think a lot of us are.
It's hard to feel excited about a new year when we carry with us the compounded distress of a very shitty 2020 - the injustices, the losses, the precarity of employment, the complete fucking idiocy of the U.S. gov't. If you did not feel compelled to sit down and make some New Year's resolutions, I don't blame you. In fact, we wouldn't be integrating the learnings of 2020 very well if we just immediately spat out a to-do list.
In the last few years I've leaned away from an annual list of goals. It just hasn't felt good. Instead, I plan by season. I think of the 3 months in front of me.
Here's what I consider:
What do I want to create space for over the next 3 months? What type of energy does that require? Who are my models for this season? Where do I need help? From this, can I derive a theme?
Developing a theme helps me move forward with actions that feel connected to where I'm at. A theme tells me what I'm focusing on and what I'm setting aside. It keeps me in the (relative) present. We artists need a lot of space and flexibility to do our work. I realize this more ever year. A theme can help you create that space mentally and ask less of yourself in the process. Asking less of myself is something I'm trying to lean into this year.
For more on this topic, check out my podcast episode Identifying Your Creative Season. It will help you move through the "meh" of the moment.
