I usually welcome the new year with anticipation or more aptly, vorfruede: (n) the joyful, intense anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures. Especially since 2012 - which was one of the worst years on record for ya girl - I've tried to muster as much courage and optimism as I could with each new year, willing it to be better than the last.
And that's generally what's happened.
2013 was about rebuilding after enduring the traumas of 2012 (which I've sorta talked about but never written about). I started reconstructing my self-esteem and did the work to really begin figuring out what I wanted my life to look like. 2013 was my personal "Pheonix rising from the ashes" year, and I went through it dusty but determined to get back to who I knew I could be.
The work paid off in 2014. That was the year I felt I really started to step into being the woman I've always dreamed of. I took personal and professional risks, I practiced forgiveness, I found success, and I accomplished things that have been present on my vision boards for years now. I became a mother and in that role have found a new opportunity to mold this woman called Bee, who now has a girlchild looking to her for love and guidance.
2014 was a lot. I'm still trying to catch my breath and let all the wins, losses, and changes settle in, but now we're in 2015 and it's go time again. What scares me is that much more change is afoot and the year is beginning with me in a fuzzy haze, unable to see my next step, unable to find a map to help me get to some unclear destination. After a few years of working in set goals and absolutes, maybe 2015 is about letting go of control a bit...letting the change wash over me...focusing more on who I want to be and how I want to feel about life than merely working towards the acquisition of things. What scares me is that despite having goals for the year, I don't really see anything. I can't remember a year filled with more unknowns. On the positive, I try to view the unknown as the sign of an open road, of possibility. On the negative, it makes my stomach tight, my breath short, and my sleep disturbed.
I want to be consistent with blogging, continue to earn my stripes as a freelance writer, and work on some other new creative projects. I want to put on great events. I want to travel. I want to read more. I want to make money. I want to continue to work towards fulfillment in my professional and personal lives. So, the intentions are there, but this 2015 haze has perfumed the air with the scent of trepidation, watchfulness and assessment. Was 2014 a fluke? Will I make the right decisions when it comes to my career? Will I take good control of my health? What will my shifting priorities mean for my life? How am I going to balance the various identities that jostle against themselves in my body like atoms do? How will I handle all the changes in my life, knowing I've never been good with it at all? Too many questions make me nervous, but all I see are the questions and all I feel are the nerves.
I know I've grown, because even through the nerves and fear, I still carry a tiny sparkle of hope that everything will be alright. In fact, one of my personal mantras (that always makes sense to me if it doesn't for anyone else) is "Everything will be alright, then it will be better than alright" and I'm carrying that with me. Old Bee would allow this fear to paralyze her, to cause her to shut down when things get too hard, to crumble with even the slightest touch of negativity, to fuel a never-ending game of "What If" where she tries to control every possible outcome of a situation. I'm not 100% removed from that girl, but this year I'll attempt to let these nerves be the energy that propels me while embracing the fact that "I don't know" is an answer I can give myself. "I don't know" doesn't mean "I'll never know," but it gives me time and room, allowing me to be a bit kinder to myself in what will undoubtedly be a year that requires self-care.
So, 2015 is here and we have no choice but to be present and make the best of it. Hopefully this haze will dissipate and my way will become a bit clearer - but until then I'll just float along, letting go of things that don't serve me well, grasping the things that do, finding the beauty in "I don't know," and making an effort to simply do my best every day.