It's not our year. And maybe it shouldn't be.

A beach because some of my best thinking happens here.

I felt conflicted about what to write this week. Unless I come up with some brilliant prose, this will likely be my last post of 2020.  I wanted to say something that set the tone for the end of this year and the beginning of the next. I also wanted to balance the heavier sentiments of my most recent posts with something lighter and more cheerful. But nothing felt right. I've never been one to say something just for the sake of saying it.

With this in mind, I’ll simply share with you some reflections that I had this morning:

At the end of this year, I really wanted to write about how it was still “our year.” I wanted to say that it is primarily through the challenges and suffering that most of us have experienced this year that deep, valuable growth can occur and how that work matters even when it’s uncomfortable. I also wanted to share what I’m grateful for this year in an effort to encourage others to do the same. It’s easy to focus on what sucks. It’s a lot harder to intentionally be thankful for what doesn’t. 

Those themes are still immensely important to me. However, I realized this morning that the whole concept of “our year” or “my year” is kind of a terrible one. 

There are things in this life that are in our control. There are things that we can practice and prepare for and make decisions about. And, there are a lot of things in this life that are completely, or at least predominantly, out of our control. When we put something out there like the phrase, “This is going to be my year!” all we’re doing is sharing an illusion with ourselves and others. There’s absolutely nothing tangible attached to that concept because the truth is, we have no idea what the future holds. We can have goals and ambitions, but it’s the stuff that’s out of our control that frequently sets the tone, at least in my experience. So, arbitrarily determining that a span of time is or isn’t going to be in favor of you is pretty meaningless. It’s also misguided. 

Now, I know that some people can say they are manifesting or whatever else, but I’ll be frank: I don’t buy into that stuff. This is likely because I don’t believe that I’m my own god or the center of my own universe. I do believe in working hard to achieve something and in having goals and visualizing those goals. I also believe that God has a bigger plan than anything I could come up with on my own. I get to hold both of those tensions in this life. 

So, here’s my point. What if instead of determining what is or isn’t going to be our year and then being disappointed when things inevitably don’t go exactly as we planned, we just be present instead?

It’s hard to be present. It’s hard for me personally that being present requires sitting with all of my feelings, even when they are unpleasant. But, what I’ve learned in even just the past few months of feebly, at times, attempting to be more present is that I can process things so much better. When I feel pain, I get to feel that fully. When I feel joy, I get to feel that fully. And through good times or bad, I can experience gratitude more fully than I would have otherwise. What I’ve noticed in myself is that when I try to control the future, my life becomes a scorecard. If something good happens that’s one check in the self-inflated “I’m right and the most awesome of all” column. If something bad happens, that’s one extra thick check in the “My plans are ruined, everything’s a disappointment, and the world is against me column.” I miss out on the beauty and growth that comes from ambiguity.

We know, without a shadow of a doubt, that in this life we will experience hardship. There’s no way around that. The only way through it, at least from my experience, is to be present and stop pretending that we have more control over the outcomes of our life than we actually do. We get to enjoy the ride. We get to celebrate hard. And we get to grieve well (meaning: process completely instead of distracting ourselves). If you follow God, then being present also involves a lot of trust and a whole heck of a lot of grace. I'm not even close to perfect at this, but I recognize that it's worth giving it a shot.

I could go on and on about this topic, but I’ll choose not to. At least for now. I want to close by saying thank you. 

Thank you to those who have read my words over the past couple of months. Thank you to those who have reached out and engaged in conversation about the topics that I’ve brought up. Thank you to those who have lurked in your reading but whose support and engagement I appreciate all the same. Thank you for letting me share my thoughts with you. Thank you for letting me process imperfectly. Thank you for supporting me in doing life differently. 

I’ll talk to you all next year, but in the coming weeks don’t hesitate to reach out if you’d like to connect. 

Merry Christmas and bring on 2021! 

xo Abbey