There is something magical about a chance to start over. As humans, particularly in the United States, I think we’ve created a paradigm where there are prescribed points in life where it’s more or less acceptable.
This is not to say that you cannot start over at other junctures. People do. It’s just that when you select an off cycle to reinvent yourself, it’s often met with cries of how brave you are- what courage you possess. And I don’t mean to belittle the inner fortitude it takes to move in another direction, in any capacity. It is, unquestionably, very challenging. Usually there are quite a few unknowns involved and more times than not, a leap of faith is required.
But I think our observations, our characterizing of these decisions in the way I just described, comes with an underlying thought or message that is decidedly less positive.
I think when we start with: I could never but good for them, there is often the unspoken bit that hangs in the air. There is the part of us that longs to say: because it sounds fucking crazy.
Left accounting to be a personal trainer? Batshit. Moved away from banking to be a midwife? Loony toon. Quit the corporate life to travel the world? Out of their goddamn mind. And generally, I think it’s easy for us to ascribe judgment to these massive life changes.
What about the other ones? Choices to end relationships and friendships. Moving to a new space or new geographical location altogether. Taking up a new sport or activity or hobby. Are these mini starting over moments more palatable because we deem them less consequential?
Sure, he’s leaving her, but there are plenty of fish in the sea. Relocating to a big city from the country? She can always come “home”. It’s not like they are looking to make money off their art or perform in a concert or compete professionally, so why the hell not?
And in what is perhaps the most absurd act of hypocrisy, we celebrate those who have found themselves and their success later in life. We draw comfort in knowing that famous inventors and gold medal winners and prize winning authors only found their way in the second half of life.
God bless- there’s hope for all of us, now.
It really is all so confusing, is it not? Maybe because all of it is intrinsically rooted in fear (with a heaping spoon of hope)?
Perhaps we are all hoping that it’s not too late for us, but also, the path to change feels so scary. The thread to a new life, tenuous.
We judge bigger moves not because we imagine that those humans won’t succeed, I think, but because we are afraid that we will remain stuck. Because there is some envy that lives inside of us. There is some place where we want so badly to change but don’t know how. We want to shift to happiness but it feels well beyond reach. We have rationalized and over analyzed and leaned into every single excuse to remain as we are. We cannot believe that someone has not only found their way (even though this can be a misnomer) but decided to move full steam ahead, in spite of obstacles and fears. Because we cannot overcome our own resistance, we imagine all of their possible pitfalls. We manifest and manufacture sympathetic anxiety.
We are terrified of change and therefore, we are aghast when others move into change at all, whether it be with ease or resistance. Literally. Even if someone is forced into change because of what the universe has delivered (loss), we still feel something that ranges from compassion to outrage.
What if I told you that every year, every season presents an opportunity to be reborn, to reset, to “start over”? I don’t mean season in the traditional sense of seasons- but more so, the passage of time. In that way, every day presents us with an opportunity. We have a chance whenever we want to take stock, to look at our situation, and decide what still serves us.
If you’ve been with me for a time, you know I’m not really a resolution gal. I find resolutions to be something of a set up. Promises that we make and then, break. If anything, I’ve shared that I think intentions are the way to go. Manifesting is also a solid direction to move in.
It’s not really about what we say, or write, but rather, the shifts that we make. The change we embrace. Our willingness to remain uncomfortable. To sit in the discomfort of moving into the spaces we want to occupy. The thing is, I tend to focus on the positive. Do you know what I mean by that? It’s not about what I don’t want to do, or what I want to avoid. It’s about what I want to do, the life I want to lead, the safety and success I want to achieve.
I invite you this season to consider a space where radical change doesn’t threaten you. Where you long to start over. Where you move through fear to identify what in your life should remain and what must move away.
For me, it’s not about specific people or places or things. It’s a general vibe. I want to feel free being who I am, unapologetically. That means living authentically despite the way it challenges some, and for those who criticize it in any way, making the choice to close doors. I want to manifest connection that is meaningful and respectful, where I don’t spend a lot of time wondering if I am loved. I want to feel successful because of the ways in which I cultivate my inner strength and education myself and remain open and teachable, not because someone tells me I am.
I want to know in the deepest parts of me that change is not something to fear, but rather, an inevitability. Sometimes the path to oneself is lonesome but the riches are unmatched.
I want to express myself through movement and writing and words without being self conscious or concerned about others’ opinions.
I want to not be challenged by the notion that my choice to live fully in the life that has presented and brings me joy is not an “alternative” to something, as dictated by society, and reinforced by many.
I want to be happy.
I want to be free.
I want to be kind.
I want to be open.
Bring on 2025.
X
L.
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