As I’ve mentioned several times already, the state of my mental health has a large impact on how much I actually enjoy life. In fact, being generally OK is so crucial that I’m not sure a lush life is possible without it. There can be moments of joy, fun times, and productivity on days that are still hard. I can make everything around me as cozy, rich, comforting, extravagant, and luscious as possible. But if I’m not doing well mentally, I don’t actually get the full lush experience.
I spent most of yesterday at the World Mental Health Day Conference on campus. Some helpful reminders and takeaways (besides the fun bag and coloring pages and relaxation crafts):
Fight or flight is the body’s natural, healthy response to a dangerous or stressful environment. So much of my progress has been aided by first asking, “Is this something wrong with me or something wrong with the relationship/situation/world?”
Forced positivity is invalidating.
Being aware of our own vicarious trauma while taking care of students is important.
Take a real lunch break. Like…leave the office and go somewhere. [but…where? I feel like this is advice for people with money to buy lunch every day and longer lunch breaks – and no, getting less sleep so I can get up earlier so I can have a longer lunch break doesn’t help my mental health.]
Take more breaks and move around more often.
Damn. I really am gonna have to make a phone call to set up my sessions. *heavy sigh* Can I count “having to make a phone call” as an issue for which I need counseling? Kidding. Sort of.
If we could have a staff nap room on campus, that would be great. I would literally never use it, but I’d be comforted just knowing it was there.
What do you do to take care of your mental health?
This weekend was the Denton Arts and Jazz Fest. There was a time when I wouldn’t have dreamed of missing it, even though until recently it was at the end of April, at the height of allergy season for me. I went every year. I would go on Friday if there was something special I wanted to see, but I was definitely there all day Saturday and at least in the evening for Brave Combo on Sunday. I just accepted that I wouldn’t really get a weekend off to reset socially, and it was worth it to me. I had a lot of fun at Jazz Fest, and I didn’t want to miss out.
I also got terribly sick at the end of each semester. I always thought it was just the stress/relief of finishing classes, but looking back, I’m not so sure. Thanksgiving through December was always busy with holiday travel and huge gatherings and shopping (and it was before the internet, so it was all in person *shudders*) and the local tree lighting festival, and the end of the spring semester was banquets and graduations and Jazz Fest. After I finished my last final (or, once I started teaching, handed in my grades), I took a breath and paused for a moment, and that was my body’s cue to shut down for about a week. I was alarmed the first couple of times it happened, but then I just accepted it.
I’ve learned how to avoid it now, but it does come at a price.
I need a lot of alone time. My specific concoction of introverted, socially anxious, sensory sensitive, and whatever else happens to be going on requires a certain amount of downtime to regroup, or I will get sick. It takes me a couple of hours every night to wind down, and I need at least two nights off a week when I just come home and decompress. It’s also imperative that I have at least two consecutive days a month in which I come home the night before the first day and don’t leave again until the morning after the second. Ideally, at least one weekend will be free for this to happen, but if not, I know I will need to take the appropriate amount of time off work to ensure that it does. To really thrive, I need more alone time than I’ve described here, but that’s the minimum. If I want to stay well, it’s not optional.
I suspect there are a lot of people for whom a great amount of solitude is necessary. I just don’t hear a lot of them talk about it. Maybe we’ve been taught to be ashamed that we can’t handle that much stimulation all the time without any real breaks like others seem to be able to. If that’s you, and no one has told you this yet, let me state clearly – there’s nothing wrong with you. Taking care of yourself is the right, responsible thing to do. You have nothing to be ashamed of.
I had hoped to go to Jazz Fest this weekend. One of the students I work with performed, and so did one of my friends’ bands that I haven’t seen in a long time. The original Blues Brothers band was there, and I always like looking at the booths (especially the jewelry) and camping out in front of the UNT stage on Sunday afternoon. Judging by the pictures on social media, I would have seen a lot of people I know and had a good time. I’m a little sad to have missed it.
But our cookbook club had a murder mystery dinner on Friday. We got to dress up and play catty characters. So much fun! And I spent last night jamming with some friends I get to perform with in November. This morning I went to church. I really like the study we’re doing now, and I got to sing in the choir. And tonight I sat by the fire with Spiderweb friends and watched (most of) The Mummy. It was a full, busy, lovely weekend that still left me with the large blocks of alone time I need to be ready for this week.
Sometimes it’s ok to miss good things. Lush life doesn’t mean you have to pack every waking moment with activities you love and force it all to fit. It means learning when not to.
Once I started exploring what it means to have a lush life, the word cozy kept coming up. And the more I started searching for cozy things, the more I kept running into posts and books about hygge. For those unfamiliar with the term (and clearly not on Pinterest, because it is all over Pinterest), hygge is a Danish concept that takes cozy to the next level. In addition to embracing comfort, it also includes elements of warmth, well-being, and connection.
I’m way down the hygge rabbit hole, so it’s likely to come up a few times this month. If you want a quick and charming crash course, I recommend The Little Book of Hygge by Meik Wiking. Today, I’m giving you a brief overview of the five dimensions of hygge he outlines, which are essentially ways you can experience the phenomenon through your senses. Everyone’s preferences are going to be different, but I’ve included examples of mine. This is a particularly useful exercise for me, as I am easily overwhelmed by sensory input. It’s good to intentionally make note of the ones I enjoy.
Taste
Food is a big part of comfort, and the Danes know this. They have a whole pastry named after their nationality (which I really need to try in Denmark, I think. You know, to get the full experience.). When I think of cozy food, things that are familiar and satisfying come to mind:
Soups with a side of crusty bread
Eggs and toast
Oatmeal with dried fruit and maple syrup
Stir fry/warm salads
Peaches, nectarines, and apricots (really any fresh fruit, but those are my faves)
Antipasti – any combination of cheese, bread/crackers, pickles/olives, maybe salami or fruit
Burgers
Potatoes in any form. Particularly if there is also cheese involved.
There are also specific flavors that fit in this category for me. I love coconut and caramel and peppermint (not all together, though). And of course, a nice cup of coffee or hot tea increases the cozy factor of any activity.
Sound
I love rainy day sounds. Not just the rain but the things I like to do inside when there’s a storm outside. The tink of knitting needles. Soft instrumental music, particularly piano and/or acoustic base. Pages turning as I read. The washer and dryer running. Small sipping sounds as I try to drink my cup of tea before it’s cool enough to do so (this is the only eating/drinking sound I like at all, btw. All the rest are gross and upsetting. This is a hill I am prepared to die on.).
One of the reasons I find coffee shops so comforting is the combination of sounds coming from behind the counter. Kettles boiling. The clinks and clunks of the espresso machine. Coffee dripping and pouring. It’s very much what I imagine Heaven must sound like.
Also…when cats ekekekekek. That’s some good ASMR right there.
Smell
Coffee. Vanilla and butter. Citrus. Tomato or pea plants. Fresh bread. Food smells, basically, are my favorites.
The other scents I think of as comforting are those that remind me of a particular time, place, or event. For example, the very specific smell that hits me when I open up Mom’s Christmas cabinet where she stores all her decorations. It’s sort of like an apple/cinnamon smell but not quite.
Touch
One of the first things I did after I chose the word lush for my theme this year was to buy new bed linens. There was nothing wrong with the ones I had, but they were getting a little worn and scratchy. [So, I guess there was something wrong with them. I just feel wasteful if I get rid of something before it’s absolutely unusable (no worries – they have been refurbished into decorations/costumes).] I love flannel sheets, and I use them all year long. I also bought a comforter that is slightly weighted (not too much! Most weighted blankets are too much!), which helps me fall asleep. I like drinking out of glass or ceramic receptacles. I will drink out of metal or plastic or paper cups, but it’s just not the same.
I think I’ve gotten to the point where I absolutely refuse to wear hard pants. Jeans, slacks, anything that you have to button/zip? Not interested. I don’t even know that I own any such thing anymore. My daily attire is all dresses and skirts with either shorts or leggings. Comfy shoes that are designed for long hours roaming bookstores. Sweaters and other layers just in case the temperature suddenly changes because Texas. Bookcore for life.
Sight
I’m going to go into this more when I talk about having a cozy home later in the month, so I won’t dwell now, but muted lighting (I’m in the market for lamps), candles, and twinkle lights are my jam. I love dark, rich colors (and yes, classically eccentric is a good name for my preferred decorating style). In pictures or movie scenes or art, I prefer slow-moving ease to bustle. I favor open sky and beaches over woods or forest. I need intentional blank space in decorating, too.
Clarification: Regardless of how the title sounds, I do not get sloshed at work. I get sloshed AFTER work, like a damn professional.
The place I spend 40+ hours a week has an inevitably large impact on the lushness of my life. It also, ideally, would fund a life that is periodically decadent and rich. A lot of my revision of the original ideal of what lush looks like in the life I currently have is affected by my job, so I thought I’d take at least one day to mention it. Let’s go ahead and get it out of the way.
Because many places I’ve worked have been big fans of the compliment sandwich [which is a misnomer, because sandwiches are named according to the things inside the bread, not the bread on the outside, which is where the compliments are positioned, and also because sandwiches are good, as opposed to this concept, which is a terrible way to deliver feedback], that is how I’m going to structure this post about work. *places tongue firmly in cheek*
I enjoy certain aspects of my job:
The people I work with are awesome. We’re a good team, and we get along well.
I have my own space to decorate and do with as I wish (to a reasonable extent – it’s a no on the margarita machine and the hammocks, apparently).
Employer-paid health coverage is good. So are university holidays that I get to take off without having to use the PTO I’ve earned (i.e., days we get in addition to our PTO).
I like helping students discover that they actually do know what they’re doing and can figure out where to go to get their questions answered. I also like telling them yes as often as possible.
I like the looks on the students’ faces when I have to gently remind their parents who dragged them into my office that they’re adults and thus afforded all the rights and responsibilities that go with that. It makes (most of) them so happy. Smug, even. Hold on to that, young friends.
I enjoy certain things we do on campus during the year. For example, I’m looking forward to the opportunity to attend the World Mental Health Day conference next Monday. Also, we get free food on a fairly regular basis, so that’s nice.
There are other aspects of the job that are nonsense, though.
There are general labor practices I take issue with, and of course, a large portion of the staff here are grossly underpaid. And save the argument – I don’t care about market value, or debt accrued because someone somewhere who makes more than most of us fucked something up, or politically motivated lawsuits, or that we hope to maybe do something about it next year if all the planets align correctly. I care that our full-time custodians have to have other jobs to make ends meet this month and that our rents that we don’t have the luxury of putting off until Fall 2023, when we are allegedly getting it together and moving people up to what they should already be making today, are rising exponentially but our paychecks are not.
I also don’t think we’re taken very seriously. I guess I can’t speak for everyone. I don’t think I’m taken seriously. I think I’m an afterthought. Even when I say, “This plan is probably not going to work well because of XYZ reasons, so let’s do this much more reasonable thing instead,” that doesn’t seem to have any effect, even though we’ve spent a lot of money and time as a department learning to recognize and hone our strengths, and I think a well-honed connectedness, input, ideation, intellection, strategic person such as I am, probably has the skills to foresee some things. It’s sort of what I do. What I’m best at, if you will.
A lot of the mental health challenges I’ve faced this year are due to a not-great plan that was implemented in the office at the beginning of the summer. I don’t want to go into details here – but my new work environment is bad for me. Yes, I’ve said so. Repeatedly. Broken-record-ly.
I don’t know what to do. I’m looking for other jobs. I’ve even done the math to see if I can expand my side hustle full time (with my current teams, I’d have to write 45-50 hours a week and pray that there are no assignment lulls ever. Not interested in that instability at all.). But most days, I’m having to focus way too hard to put a sentence together to speak intelligently to a customer on the phone by mid-afternoon, and my executive function has plummeted overall, so something has to change, because this is not sustainable.
As promised, here’s the other side of the sandwich. I’ve joined the Neurodiversity Professional Network on campus, and I really like them. I’m tabling with them at a staff event this Friday, and I may do so at the conference on Monday, too. It’s good to learn ways to advocate for each other, and this provides a forum for doing so that extends beyond what even the best session or seminar can teach. Being a part of this group gives me hope that changes and reasonable solutions are possible.
Today, I want to daydream a little. Journey with me, if you will, to what a typical week of lush life would look like to me. Some of these things are already firmly in place in my life; some will have to wait until I retire (at least partially. Eight. More. Years.) and have the time to incorporate them. This life as a whole also requires a somewhat bigger, definitely steadier income (I really just need to make every month what I make in a good month).
It’s good to have goals.
Overall, the things I think of when I imagine a lush life basically boil down to five elements:
Good balance of company and solitude
Good food
Cozy environments
Meaningful work
Lots of time for play
So let’s begin.
At no point in a truly lush life will I wake to an alarm. Each day starts with waking up naturally, whenever I am fully rested, as God and nature intended. As a night owl who tries (and perpetually fails) to overcome my natural tendencies in order to make life with a work schedule created by capitalism and sadistic morning people more manageable, I may actually have a ceremony where I dispose of my alarm clock when I retire.
Even if I’m rested, any activities where I have to be dressed, social, and coherent before noon are just the worst. So my ideal day is one that allows me to ease into it. A French press of coffee and a good breakfast (mmm…veggie omelet with toast…or poached eggs over potatoes) are required. As long as we’re dreaming, I would like to insert the company of a partner who shares both cooking/cleaning duties and my preference for rampant lounging at the start of the day. Alternatively, I am content listening to whatever audiobook I’m reading, show I’m currently bingeing, or background music softly crooning from the record player. The rest of the morning is likely to be spent reading or working on a craft/art project such as knitting or art journaling.
Afternoons are for responsibilities, because no matter how lush my life becomes, someone still has to do laundry (and also I sort of love doing laundry so, by someone, I am happy to mean me). Having said this, I want the luxury of being picky about which work I do and which work I delegate. For example, I am usually pretty good about keeping up with most daily chores, such as washing dishes or tidying, but I fall behind on things like dusting and vacuuming because I can’t just do part of the house and be satisfied, so I find the size of the job overwhelming to the point of inaction. I want to be able to hire someone to do all the chores and errands that I dislike (and thus avoid until they’re really out of control).
Three or four days a week, my main goal for the afternoon is to write. Most of the time will be spent on creative works in progress, but I also want to maintain my current writing job or something like it to keep a steady income. On the off days, I’ll probably spend the non-chore time running errands, which includes frequenting my favorite local coffee shops and bookstores.
I will likely spend most evenings pretty much the same way I do now – book clubs, choir, attending (or performing in) shows and concerts, hanging out with beloved folk, or staying at home to read. Maybe this fabled partner and I go out dancing occasionally. How lovely that would be. Another habit I would like to resume as I mold my life into something more manageable is to have people over for dinner and drinks on a fairly regular basis. It’s a lot of work, as there are several things (many of which are mentioned above) that have to be in place for me to be relaxed enough to enjoy it, but sometimes I miss it.
Of course, there will be exceptions to this general structure. There will be day trips with friends, library book club or church in the mornings on some weekends, and doctor’s appointments that I almost always schedule at the beginning of the day so I can cross them quickly off the list. And at least three times a month, I’m going to need a mental health day in which all scheduling, planned productivity, chores, and socializing go out the window. Just a slow day spent in my favorite comfy pants that I don’t wear in public, enjoying copious amounts of hot tea, books, music, blankets, naps, and maybe a walk. Opportunities for extended rest are important even when I’m living my most charmed life.
There is more to lush living, of course, but this is the basic lifestyle I’d love to have.
When I chose lush (pardon me…LUSH) as my theme word for this year, I imagined quite a few possible scenarios:
Home and patio full of healthy plants
Delicious, wholesome (and sometimes decadent) meals
Calm, unrushed afternoons spent in coffee shops or bookstores
Good cheese, wine, and coffee
Regularly designated time to make art
Organized nooks throughout the apartment designed to maximize coziness
Fun outings with friends and family
It seemed so simple and exciting. But it turns out, there are reasons those things weren’t happening on a regular basis already.
First of all, these things cost money. Not a lot, for the most part, but still more than I have coming in on the regular. My budget is very basic, and until I get a better job or become inexplicably wealthy, it’s got to stay that way. So one challenge I’ve been tackling is to envision a lush life that doesn’t depend on spending more.
Second, these things take time. Extra time to do more of anything turns into a scarce commodity when you have two jobs and a lot of other responsibilities that (allegedly) come first. I stepped down from a few things I was doing last year, but then I became church council president this year. I am glad to be asked to serve, but it’s been a lot, and I am counting the days until it’s over. In fact, I am working on significantly streamlining how I use the free time I have available. For example, at church, maybe I have fewer weeknight meetings but more engagement on Sunday mornings when I’m already attending the service anyway. At work, maybe I stop volunteering for everything that looks vaguely interesting so I can focus on things I enjoy and not be so overwhelmed all the time (to the small extent that I can control that. More on this later in the month).
Also more breaks. Particularly at and from work. I’m not great at taking breaks.
Third, I forgot to factor in mental health. I set the bar for lush life really high. There’s nothing wrong with high standards, of course. A cozy, tidy home with lots of greenery, comforting homemade meals, large blocks of time to be creative, and also adequate quality time to spend with people I love? Sounds lovely. Wonderful. A fantastic way to live and a grand life to have.
It also sounds like a lot of work.
I have had some heightened mental health struggles this year that I did not anticipate. Burnout, executive dysfunction, and sensory sensitivity make getting through even the simplest to-do list a challenge some days. And by some, I do mean most. On those days, does lush life look like cooking good meals (and cleaning up afterward) and trying to find scraps of focus/energy to do creative things or hang out with friends? Or does it look like eating a bowl of cereal and calling it a night with a cup of tea and a good book? I know I’m worth the effort it would take to do the former, but I’m also worth the rest I get from doing the latter. Some days, it’s hard to tell which is better.
This month, I’m going to write through more of these thoughts on what I thought lush life would be, what it’s actually turning out to be, and what I think of that. I have some feelings. You’ve been warned.
Making to-do lists to match my yearly theme always delights me. This is especially true when my word of the year is something like “lush.” In the spirit of Joy The Baker’s summer bucket lists, I’ve been musing about the next few months.
I’ve decided that my lush summer starts now. As I was reminded by Tsh Oxenreider’s newsletter this morning, the pursuit of beauty is important, especially in hard times, so why wait? Also, let’s face it – the weather in Texas basically thinks it’s summer from April-September anyway. And to my amazement and mild chagrin, April is LATER THIS WEEK.
The first step is to find some things to drop so that I have the freedom in my schedule and the energy to do the fun stuff listed below. I’ve already been practicing. My typical response to busyness has been to tough my way through something, even if a pounding headache or sensory overwhelm or exhaustion from panic attacks or some other not-at-all-subtle signal is telling me not to. I have been really good at paying attention to those signals lately, though, and canceling things when I need to. Sure, I’ve missed some things that I wanted to do. But you know what? The world did not end, and I got the rest I needed. Then, I got to actually enjoy the next thing I wanted to do instead of having to trudge my way through it, too. Ultimately, I hope that listening to my body better looks like not making too many plans in the first place instead of having to cancel them, but baby steps.
Here are some snapshots of how I want my lush summer to look.
Plants
Despite my angst about the heat and the pollen, this is a great time of the year for plants. I never met a fruit I didn’t like, but in-season (and I cannot stress that distinction enough) spring/summer fruits—specifically, blueberries, peaches, apricots, and cantaloupe—are my favorites. I have a small space for some containers on my porch, but most of my produce during this season comes from farmers’ markets.
Buy fresh produce and/or seeds from Denton Community Market (opening day for the season is this Saturday yay!)
Plant tomatoes and basil and all the random seeds I have in my containers
Keep fresh flowers (carefully chosen, because allergies) on the table and around the house
Repot the office plant and perhaps pick up another new green friend or two along the way
Food
Try a new local restaurant. Osteria il Muro is the one I have in mind, but spaces are super limited. Maybe I’ll be able to get a reservation someday.
Make sun tea and lemonade
Buy cold brew from Coffee Hog once(ish) a month (yes, I could make it myself. But will I?)
Snow cones!
Make ice cream (or at least an icebox pie or two, which frankly is more likely than dragging out the ice cream maker. But hope springs eternal.)
Test some of the updated recipes for my Epic Meal Planning and Feast projects
Events/Travel (if the aforementioned improved minding of my schedule allows, of course)
I’d like to take a small road trip if I can make room in the budget for it. San Antonio to see Hope and Nowhere? Beach getaway?
Attend a summer festival (or two). Maybe these? North Texas Lavender Festival (June 26-27) – TX-Ture Farm North Texas Book Festival (Aug 20, 3-7pm) – Greater Denton Arts Council
Visit the family farm once a month
Hang out at a winery with friends
Enjoy afternoons/days on the Denton, McKinney, and/or Gainesville square(s)
Social/Miscellaneous
Pool time with friends
Girls weekend with Maggie and Michelle
Lounge around in bookshops
Continue my cleaning streak by cleaning out closets and actually taking donations where they need to go
Redecorate or organize one small space in the apartment each week
What do you love most about warmer days? Anything you’re looking forward to?
This was not a Christmas Eve 2020 fire. I was definitely fantasizing about throwing parts of 2020 into a fire, though.
Today’s December Reflections prompt is “one year ago today.” On this specific day, I was likely driving to the farm to spend time with the family. The vaccine wasn’t a thing yet, so I was still in general isolation – working from home, social distancing, endless Zoom meetings – and even more so in the week or two prior to seeing my parents. But in anticipation of the new year, I was also already starting my reflections on joy. I talked about comfort food and books and animals and the parts of being outside that I find least objectionable.
Throughout the month, I also wrote quite a bit about the difficulty of holding on to joy (and hope and other good things that we’re often told we’re supposed to feel, particularly around the holidays). I remember not being excited about joy being my word for the new year. There were too many moments it seemed too far-fetched to be a possibility. I felt particularly lonely last year at this time.
But there were already little sprouts of joy poking up through the soil. If you’ll indulge the navel-gazing (and you’re reading my blog, where that phenomenon often runs rampant, so I trust that you will):
“When I think of the characteristics I particularly love in a partner – and especially when I meet someone new who embodies a lot of those characteristics – there is that jolt. The familiar memory of loving someone combined with the anticipation of the possibility of feeling that way again? That feeling is pure magic. This is the sneaky good thing about joy that may just be my favorite part. It doesn’t just show up in the middle of a particular difficulty. It shows up, in part, specifically because of it. Joy will tailor itself to you.”
And that’s precisely what joy did all year long. Several things about the past year have not been easy or great, and a big part of how I handled them had to do with where the joy showed up. It’s become a bit of a navigator, and I really like that.
One of my favorite posts I’ve read this month is Kaitlin Curtice’s autumn checklist. As seasons change, there is often an anticipation or rush or dread (depending on what the particular upcoming season tends to do to me), but the transition almost always includes a slight change in habits to accommodate whatever lies ahead.
I keep a standard list of tasks that I know I need to do on a regular basis for my life to feel somewhat put-together or fulfilled or happy or joyful. It is divided into general categories, and I track specific tasks within each category by color-coding so that I have a record of how often I do them (or how long it’s been and thus how I might want to work it in the next few days). The list I’ve been working with most of the year includes things you might expect:
Creative outlets (work on a knitting project, cook a meal, write, read, and play piano)
Movement (dance, kickboxing, run/walk, Pilates, and strength training)
Basic self-care (proper hydration, good food, and socializing online or in person)
Housekeeping (cleaning bathroom, doing dishes, taking out trash, doing laundry, and tidying)
As I enter fall, I look for ways to add more coziness and connection to my days. I like the idea of adding fun social outings to the mix so that I don’t isolate too much while also safeguarding the untasked downtime that I know I need for maintaining decent mental health by not packing my schedule with more meetings and obligations that try to pass themselves off as a social life. That was a long sentence that basically boils down to remembering that my social/solitude balance is important.
My reading habits also tend to change as the days get shorter and the weather grows cooler. I don’t always read more in the fall and winter but I do tend to choose more things in my comfort zone, which includes a lot of mysteries and gothic literature and magical realism and foodie fiction/memoir. You’ll see a lot more about my reading habits in October during this year’s 31 days series (more details coming on Friday).
Fall self-care looks like:
Warm beverages, cozy blankets, and books
Listening to records
Re-bingeing comfort shows (currently – Bones and Suits, but I’m about to start Once Upon a Time over and maybe actually watch the whole thing this time)
Restful weekends with minimal commitments
Coffee dates
Making big vats of soup
Sitting around fires
Do your self-care practices change with the seasons? If so, how?
Well, here it is. The end-of-the-year review. I feel like a lot has been said about the world in general, and I’m tired and a little sad tonight, so I’m not interested in recapping it (didn’t I do this last year, too? I remember being very melancholy last year at this time. Maybe that’s just who I am now.). So I’m going to go through the year I thought I was going to have, how it changed for me personally, and maybe some more things as I ramble on.
First, some goal-setting changes: 1. I love resolutions, but I maintain the flexibility to adapt them. I did this really well this year – mostly out of necessity but also because it just makes sense to set goals that way. To work toward what you want until you get it or don’t really want it anymore or figure out something you want more. 2. Instead of plotting all the short-term tasks needed to reach goals in a chart for each month at the beginning of the year, I plotted one month at a time and based the new standards for each month on the previous month’s actual accomplishment (it’s like I KNEW) (I did not know) (No one knew). I like this much better, and it gives me a much clearer picture of the real progress I’m making. 3. I took the month of December off from the reward system of checking things off. Mostly I did this to just take a break from it, which was needed. But also it gave me a chance to see what habits actually stuck when I removed the reward of a check mark or a crossed-off item. Very illuminating.
Official resolutions I made at the beginning of the year and how they went: 1. Read 120 books. I did not quite make it. But, considering that I went for about four months where I had the attention span of a gnat and couldn’t read for more than five minutes at a time (I read a total of six books during those four months), I think my final total of 96 is still pretty respectable. 2. Finish Fishbowl again – nope. Although I’ve made considerable progress. 3. Keep up with microfictions on Ello – yes…ish. I haven’t even checked lately to see if Ello is still a thing. But I have written a LOT of microfiction and short stories. I didn’t set a specific number to write every month, so I didn’t keep count, but that was the main creative writing I did. 4. Perform with Spiderweb – yes x2! I was in the last in-person show, collaborating with Sarah Ruth for Spiderweb Loves You on Valentines Day. And I had a spot in our online Spiderdead in November playing an original not-really-a-composition-but-more-like-a-prompt called Maybe Hope is a Terrible Idea. 5. Find a doctor – yes. Done. 6. Find a new dentist and eye doctor – not yet. Have people picked out to try, though, in the first few months of the new year. 7. Continue to build Pilates practice – yes, but not back with the in-person classes yet (although my studio has been great with upping the cleanliness standards and thinking outside the box and serving customers – really proud of the way they’ve done things). When we started working from home in March, I accepted a 30-day strength challenge with Jessica and Mary in my office, though, and I incorporated a lot of Pilates stuff in that and have expanded it and kept up with it pretty well. I may be able to test into Level 2 classes when I return. 8. Work – vague resolution about continuing to figure out what I want to do with my life that got put on the back burner when I was just happy to still have work. 9. Word of the year was “alive” and we know how I feel about that. So that’s that.
Goals I didn’t have at the beginning of the year but added and met anyway: 1. Reduce plastic use and trash production. I started putting trash day as Monday on my calendar (I needed help remembering some things – see note above re: attention span). I soon found myself finding ways to prolong it to another day to see how long I could go without filling up the trash cans. I’m up to three weeks (except in the kitchen because food-adjacent waste really shouldn’t sit in my house for three weeks but I just use smaller bags). 2. Reduce food waste – my fridge had a hard year and I think it’s on its way to dying. My freezer still works great, though, so I began freezing leftovers. I’m down to almost zero food waste, so I think that’s a habit I’ll keep even when I have a fixed/new fridge. 3. Automate shipments – toilet paper, toothpaste tabs (the Bits ones – plastic free packaging!), laundry sheets (also plastic free!), etc. I needed to take things out of my headspace this year, so I automated a lot of shipments of things I normally would just run an extra errand to get when I ran out. Now I don’t run out. Great decision – 10/10 – highly recommend.
Things I learned about myself: 1. I’m way more adaptable than I thought I was. Like…my response to chaos has mostly been to fight and thrive (relatively speaking). 2. I am very particular about who I trust. And I like that about me. I mean, I’ll extend a basic trust to most people – I don’t want into new relationships assuming they’re shady – but past that basic trust? It has to be earned. 3. I can like and get along with someone without trusting them or letting them affect me. This makes me good at standing up for other people, and I want to practice that more in the future. 4. I need to be touched. Like…regularly. I knew this already but I really really know it now.
I lost a few people I love this year (some COVID-related, some not), and that’s been hard. I also had a few heartbreaks, one in particular that was really heavy and terrible. I feel like I’m in perpetual heartbreak these days, and I don’t know how to not be. I’m really trying to seek joy in the midst of it anyway.
Finally, to end on a sort of positive note, some highlights: 1. Staying connected to Spiderweb even though it’s online and particularly to the You Are Here support group 2. Monday night text study 3. Book clubs! 4. So many artists adapting to online performance and sharing really beautiful things 5. So many local businesses adjusting to changes and finding new ways to serve customers 6. The Science of Well-Being – free course from Yale 7. Wake and Bake fundraising boxes of baked goods 8. Backyard hangouts with people who love me
M. Suzanne Terry 