3 End-of-Year Realities

The end of the year always arrives on my doorstep blaring with noise. Quite literally there is more talking this time of year, but the noise is internal as well. Mental noise heightens to determine, or try to meet, expectations from our culture, our families, or ourselves about what this time is supposed to be.

Without fail, by the time December rolls around I am faced with a steady stream of shiny objects vying for my attention (think holiday parties, velvet dresses, Christmas lights, relentless advertisements… you know the drill). The noise and shine have always been accompanied by a major life transition for me, and this year is no exception. In the past, these transitions have revolved around starting and ending jobs or moving to new cities or countries. This year, the noise is there, the shine is more alluring than usual, and the transition is something I never expected.  

I’ve lived a life that some would call transient, adventurous, nomadic, brave, or what I’ve come to see as a constant run. Don’t get me wrong I hate actual running and haven’t put myself through that torture since 2016 when it was my only outlet for exercise while living in Jordan. But do I like to run in the symbolic sense? Am I attracted to the thrill of a new race surrounded by scenery I’ve yet to see with my own eyes and people I’ve never met? Hell yes. I’m a track star, marathon champion, long distance runner that lives and breathes for the next race.

 Last weekend I sat in a room full of women, gathered around a dining room table in the middle of the woods. The fireplace was glowing bright orange and yellow and warming the backs of the women sitting across from me. We were sharing where we saw ourselves in one year. Babies, new jobs, buying property, a sense of inner knowing, and better boundaries were mentioned. I was the last to share. As soon as I opened my mouth, tears came and stopped my speech. I heard myself - the accomplished runner who is unable to hang art on her walls because it feels like too big of a commitment - say that in one year she saw herself living in the same place. As soon as the words left my mouth I sobbed, as if something had broken in me. Something did break - an old pattern; an old belief system that I have to run because I know how to and because I’ve always wanted to run in the past. But this year, I heard myself say out loud what I truly feel.

 I don’t want to run.

 Not because my body is too exhausted to make it, or my heart too sad to muster up the courage required for the journey. Not because my family is close by or my salary is high. I don’t want to run because I feel good where I am. And feeling good is something I’ve rarely prioritized in my life. It doesn’t come naturally for me to choose pleasure over struggle, which is problematic on multiple levels, but this is a step towards changing that.

Will I run again? Maybe. Will I change my mind? Maybe. Will I regret staying somewhere that makes me feel good? Perhaps at times, but choosing the unknown is always scarier than doing what you know. I know the run, better than anything else. I’m ready to do something different, and that different just happens to look like a lot of the same. Staying in Oakland, in my job, and in the community I have here might be the scariest and bravest thing I’ve done to date. I’m not staying for a partner, a job, a degree, or my resume – I’m staying for me. For the little girl inside who used to laugh so easily and smile without effort. For the physical health and healing I have found here. For the mental stability and emotional growth that has become my own.

This holiday season, I am navigating the noise (with ear plugs at times!), trying to appreciate the creative energy wrapped up in the shine, and embracing a transition that marks the end of movement and the beginning of choosing to be exactly where I am. With fear in my chest, butterflies in my belly, and too many holiday plans to fit into my schedule, I send you love.

May you say no, say no again, and then say yes to what makes you feel good. No matter how scary that might be.

Cheers to the end – you made it!

Love,

J

Reflection:

What are you feeling as this year comes to a close?

Are you feeling lost in the noise, distracted by the shine, or knee-deep in some kind of transition?

Whatever you’re feeling or carrying as this year comes to an end is okay.

Let it be a lot.