This time of year holds such promise, forever on the cusp of the fresh start we all so badly crave. We not-so-guiltily savor the final couple days to make mistakes, eat the pizza and sweets, drink the cocktail, skip the sleep and workout, watch one too many episodes. We accept our lack of willpower before our new year’s resolutions kick in because, despite our past years’ track record, we still believe in ourselves and our ability to make better decisions in the year to come. We trust in our sense of agency to attain a future that will be better than what has been. That in itself is a testament to our will, that we can indeed bring about a more hopeful future.
In a couple weeks I will turn 39. One year left in this decade that has been a tumult of spiraling ups and downs–separation and divorce, split custody, three different jobs, making new friends and then losing touch, living in three different cities, revisiting the dating scene, meeting the love of my life, engagement and wedding planning, marriage, buying a home, selling it and buying a new one, having a second child and all that mothering an infant and toddler entails, losing colleagues to new jobs and the stress of having to adjust and pick up the slack, COVID pandemic and the shutdown, financial highs and lows, grandparents passing away, travel adventures near and far, and the starry-eyed hamster wheel of daily life. Lately I’ve been reflecting on all the ways I’ve left my own side, of how my insecurities ruined my chances at love or success or, simply, happier living. Already I can say my 30s were brimming with both ends of the grief-joy spectrum and all the bumps in between. And yet I have the renewed fresh start effect bubbling up inside.
I have had two decades’ worth of new year’s resolutions where the fresh start momentum petered out by Valentine’s Day, but from a different angle I can see that each year also brought about at least one new habit or choice that outlasted the point of giving up or giving in. I am entering a resurgence of confidence and ownership of my choices and how my choices have taught me lessons. I’ve never stopped paying attention and never stopped learning, which is probably why I still have hope. I can see the accumulation of those changes and choices as having built myself, if not a full foundation, a peripheral ridge of peaks from which to look out and look within. It’s enlivening to perch up there on the precipice of a new year and new intentions.
2024, Age 39, you will bring all the jumbled turmoil into a place where I can untangle the threads and continue to make sense and meaning. This year will be my year of realignment. I intend for this to be a year where I show myself glimmers of my own potential. A year where I don’t quit on myself and my goals.
It’s taken me too much time to return to my own corner, to truly trust in my abilities and in my power. No more shrinking; no more settling. I have this next year to reassess–see what worked and what didn’t–and adjust, keep learning and growing.
I’m going to keep working on being the best version of myself and cultivating my ideal future. I will put my plans on paper, recite and visualize my best self and best life intentions until I believe them in my very core. I will break my larger goals into more manageable, actionable steps and commit every day to doing them. I will show up in all the rooms of my proverbial house–expanding spiritually, emotionally, mentally, financially, physically, and purposefully.
It will be a journey as each year always is, and, of course, there will be valleys of disappointment, but I have finally crested enough to smell that fresh air of possibility. I’m gazing out at a new decade not all that far off and feeling such anticipation for how much change I can bring about this year before I make the leap into my 40s. I’m cheering myself on and filling up with joy along the way. I wish everyone the same kind of outlook of excitement for the new year.
Peace, possibility, love, and joy your way!
Gabrielle Koontz 