One of the best things about writing a blog is that I can return to posts to see what I was thinking or struggling with a year ago or five years ago. I started writing Midlife Moments in 2012, and it was interesting to go back tonight and see what I was doing each New Year’s Eve during those 8 years. In some Decembers I was obviously struggling with depression. In 2012, my life and goals were all about running. One year I was on a backpacking trip on the Wild Azalea Trail in Louisiana but still managed to post a blog. And last year all I wanted to do was to commit to 30 days of yoga to see what would come up for me. Well…..
On the winter solstice, I attended a Soul Care group with my coach and a group of women whom I have never met in person but who are becoming a solid piece of my support network. Barb led us in a meditation where we reviewed 2020 month-by-month and reflected on what had happened to us during that time.
It’s odd to even think of January and February of this year with its normalcy of work and hugs and breathing all over each other without a care in the world. What we were thinking? Early March came around, and all hell broke loose at work with a big test to see if we could run that contact center from home. Within 24 hours of a successful test we packed up our belongings and went home for three weeks which turned into three months and then forever for a whole bunch of us.
On a positive note, I have spent a lot of time outdoors this year. I’m sure it’s been good for my spirit. I know this year has been good for Ashok. I got a new kitten after losing my sweet Buster Kitty. Luna has brought a lot of life to my home to the dismay of my other pets. But I’ve certainly enjoyed his playfulness and energy. I have been given the gift of precious time to sort out my next step career-wise. I am supported financially and have the security to explore my options. I have also stayed healthy, both mentally and physically. I do not want Covid-19. No thank you. I don’t need it. I don’t wan’t it. Stay away from me, you dastardly disease.
I’ve learned a lot about myself. With the unrelenting solitude of my current situation due to covid and being unemployed, I have a lot of time to reflect. I’m in a bubble surrounded by all of my pretty baubles and shiny things, and I have time to look at each one to decide if I really want to keep it. I also have time to feel the loss of things that are missing and to discover new pleasures. I have been given the gift of choosing what works for me and what doesn’t. And I’m learning some surprising things.
This week I discovered that I’ve largely structured my life with a lot of self-imposed “shoulds” that don’t really make me happy. For instance, I’ve beat myself up for years because I’m not reading as much as I “should”. I make goals and resolutions to read more. I joined a book club so that I would be encouraged to read more. I have two e-readers full of books that I have half-read. I used to read all the time. It was my default hobby. If I wasn’t doing something else I was reading. I loved it. In my mind, I believed I “should” get back to that because obviously it was good for me. Yoga was the same way. It literally changed my life at one time. But I’m resisting doing it now. Yes, I read on occasion. And, yes, I do yoga on occasion. But I have a relentless expectation that these activities need to be a part of my daily schedule.
I’m taking a class online, and the teacher talked about our relentless expectations. She said we set ourselves up for disappointment. We have an expectation of ourselves, and we don’t meet it. In our mind we failed. The expectation becomes even more urgent. Before long, we are pounding ourselves about this particular expectation so much that we destroy any chance of acceptance of ourselves. I immediately recognized my expectation about reading as one of these relentless expectations. Why am I beating myself up over this? I obviously enjoy podcasts more now. I enjoy hiking. My free time is spent baking and talking on the phone to friends and even writing. But instead of enjoying the hobbies I love, I’m relentlessly expecting myself to read and disappointing myself every day.
Hmmmm…. What other relentless expectations do I have that I want to release? All of a sudden I feel like I can reinvent my life. I would prefer to meditate every day instead of having a daily yoga practice so I can let that go. Just because it was life-changing 15 years ago doesn’t mean it is today. And meditation may be the thing I let go of next year. I don’t actually want to do strength-training 3 days a week and run on the days in between. I don’t even like running anymore. I’d like to be more fluid about my workouts and do what I feel like doing that day. To hell with a schedule. And with all of this free time I’m opening up, I want to get involved with a community theater and maybe do some acting! Who knows what I really like to do for fun?
I am not in a place to know what I want to do in 2021. I don’t have a focus. I don’t even have a job. But I know what I don’t want to do. I don’t want to follow a script that was not written by me. There is a saying that expectations are premeditated resentments. I have been setting myself up to resent myself. And I’m tired of resenting myself for not following through on these relentless expectations. I want 2021 to be a kindler, gentler year for me. I want to give myself time to explore my interests and pursue some of them, even if they seem indulgent or silly. I have time. In fact, I have until the end of my time on this earth to figure me out. The only expectation I want to have is to love myself and all that I bring to this party.
2021, I have no resolutions this year. I have no expectations. And I’ll bet by the end of the year, I won’t be disappointed. And, with any luck, I’ll love how I spend my time by December 2021.