Hello, 2022!

Well hello, 2022!

We turned the pages of the calendar and there you are, 2022, a new year. You’re here and I for one, welcome you.

I’ve come to appreciate the transition from one year to the next. I’m learning to say a gentle farewell and an easy hello.

Saying hello to 2022 feels different

At the beginning of 2021, after the weight of the first year of the pandemic, the world seemed frenzied in anticipation of change. Overwhelmed by the pressure, Lighten Up 2021, was all I could think to respond.

And now, 2022 feels more like turning a page in a novel than starting a new book. Maybe it’s because I’m not expecting a whole new story.

Saying hello, 2022, in light-hearted minion style feels just right! *As the new year unfolds, it’s the perfect time to pause, name the narrative of the journey, mark the transition, and find my path forward.*

Beauty in the in-between

There’s beauty in intentionally living in this in-between-ness, this transition from one year to the next. There’s peace in allowing the new year to settle on us like a soft mist, rather than expecting a sudden shift in weather.

Having one foot in 2021 and one in 2022 feels like a moment of grace. Before we dive into the new year, we have the opportunity to reflect on the past.

Naming the narrative

Emily P. Freeman says that naming the narrative helps us consider where we are in our own story. Naming things gives them importance and weight, helps us be specific, and gives us better understanding of underlying emotions and issues.

As I step into 2022, I sense a deep shift in my perspective. And I realize that I have changed this year. The arc of my story, my narrative, has shifted.

As I pause to reflect, I realize that the call I felt to lighten up my expectations for 2021 and let the year unfold, slowly and with purpose … this call wasn’t simply a rallying cry for the year. It was an invitation to a new way of living.

My word for 2021 was light and the invitation for my soul was to slow down, be less anxious, create a sustainable rhythm for my life. I wanted to look back on my year and this season of life — and see progress, growth and purpose.

Small, daily and tiny steps add up

I cleared out clutter, removing what didn’t bring me joy or serve a purpose. Instead of constantly moving, I focused on getting the rest I needed and gathering my strength. I quit pushing myself to do more and settled into sitting with my journal in the mornings, writing with quiet music in the background.

I craved solitude as much as connection with others, finding the place where my mind was “free from input from other minds” (Ketheldge & Erwin, Lead Yourself First). And, I realized that I also have to curate how much input my brain receives in order to process my own thoughts.

Intention is purpose coming to life

For me, the intention to live lighter was born from desperation, or at least exasperation. I was tired of living tired and overwhelmed. I wanted to claim God’s promise of rest for our souls. Where was the easy yoke and the light burden he promised? Why was I trying so hard and feeling so far behind?

Didn’t God promise us?

“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Matthew 11:29-30

We’re meant to carry a specific burden

In August, as I shared my writing journey with the mastermind group that bolstered me through 2020, my friend Carrie told me that she’d learned oxen yokes were hand-carved for each ox. They were designed to fit the ox specifically so that the animal could pull efficiently and effectively.

If we’re using the yoke designed specifically for us, our burden will be light. When we let go of what’s not ours to carry, we can tune in to our unique design and carry what has been chosen for us.

Mostly, I’m learning, we have to let go of the false assumption that we’re in control. And, of trying to be in control. We have to live lighter, not try harder.

Light comes when we let go

For me, living lighter was a gradual and slow mindset shift. As I began last year, I began to think of myself as a curator of what belonged in my life and what didn’t.

Curators intentionally design spaces to be beautiful, thoughtful and meaningful. They curate objects or items purposefully, creating an intentional experience. They mindfully choose items to best tell the story.

I became a curator, asking myself again and again:

What’s important and what do I need or want to keep in my life?
What can I let go of today or what do I need to release?
Where can I make space for what’s yet to come into my life?

And now, it’s hello, 2022

So what’s next for me? The narrative of living lighter remains: I’ll continue to declutter and clear physical spaces and the calendars. There’s more work to be done here, to simplify and reprioritize, to continue to curate my life. And, I’ll keep my grip soft and invite in the new as well.

My intention for 2022, my word, is mindful. The year 2022 beckons with the invitation to be a student of my own mind, to be intentional, and to keep carving away the unnecessary, making room for the essential.

As you say hello, 2022 …

What narrative will you name? How will you set mindful intentions?

May you step lightly into 2022, experiencing grace in the in-between-ness. May you sense God’s presence drawing you closer to him. And may you feel the call of your very own narrative pulling you deeper into your story.