Archives for posts with tag: good bye 2025

It’s here. New Year’s Eve. In most respects it’s no different than turning the page on the calendar at the end of any month. The clock keeps ticking. Time passes. We live our lives. We’ve chosen to celebrate this one, the end of the calendar year, as something more significant, but truly we can each begin again at pretty much any moment we choose to. Here we all are, though, and we’ve made a production out of ending the year and beginning again, so… May as well, eh?

What are you going to do about it?

I woke in the usual way, but very early. Not a big deal, and I get up, dress, and head out. It is a work day for me, though a short one. The moon hung fat and low over the western horizon, setting slowly. It was beautiful. I kept watching for a spot to snap a picture conveniently, but didn’t find a suitable combination of view and stopping place. I enjoyed the sight of it, each time I caught a glimpse of it as I drove. The drive was pleasant and uneventful; no traffic so early.

Each year, as a New Year’s tradition, people set resolutions, proclaim their intentions of changing this or that characteristic, or ending some bad habit, or changing something about their health, fitness, or circumstances. Commonly enough, and in spite of the fanfare with which resolutions are sometimes announced, most will be quietly abandoned weeks (or days) later. Choosing change is easy in the abstract. Doing the work of practicing some new behavior is a bit more difficult, requiring action, repetition, and consistency. It’s only as hard as we make it, individually, but it’s also not ideally easy. Human primates can be incredibly averse to making an effort, and prone to making grand plans that are not so easily implemented. 😆

Are you hoping to choose change this year? Pro-tip; keep it simple. Build your changes out of simple building blocks, and allow incremental change over time to pile up. Resolving to “lose X pounds by Y date” seems like a “simple goal”, but there’s a lot of small changes that end up being required to make that happen. Perhaps starting with those small changes makes more sense? Instead of resolving to lose 50 pounds by summer, perhaps start with drinking water instead of sweetened beverages? (That’s a change that may have a big result, with just the one small detail being changed.) Making that sort of small practical change habitual over time can result in lasting changes that feel pretty natural and have more tendency to “stick”. Some small seeming changes can be quite difficult in practice, sometimes because we simply don’t understand how the thing we’re trying to change actually works. An example? Interrupting people. I’d very much like to not do that, ever, at all. I find it a difficult “habit” to change, and this is largely due to approaching it as if it were merely a decision in some moment that could be made differently – but that’s often not how the complex behavior that is an interruption actually works beneath the surface. For me, the neuroscience and a better understanding of how cognition and communication work is relevant information, and remembering that I’ve also got to account for brain damage is helpful. It still takes practice, and real effort, and a lot of repetition, and I’ve improved over time… But I still struggle with this particular challenge (and maybe I always will to one degree or another). Doesn’t mean I plan to give up on it as a goal, just means there’s a lot of work involved, and plenty of opportunities to fail, to disappoint myself, and to have to begin again.

I don’t generally do “resolutions” at New Year’s. It isn’t that I don’t have goals or plans or intentions, as the new year dawns each year, I definitely do. I don’t put them on a pedestal and make them fancy, generally. It’s another new beginning. Another chance to step onto a new path. A good opportunity to adopt a new practice, or refine or renew an old one. Some people improve their success with changes they seek by sharing their intentions with someone to improve their feeling of “accountability”. Some people find that very effective – some people don’t. Do what works for you personally; it’s your life, your choice, your change.

Note: if the only reason you are seeking to change a particular thing is because someone else demands that of you, the chances of your success are greatly reduced. Just saying; we are each having (and living) our own experience. Choosing change is most effective when it is truly our own choice, for reasons that have real value to us individually.

What about me, this year? Well, I’ll take time to reflect on the year that has passed, and look ahead to the new one. I’ll consider the many ways I fell short of my intention of being the person I most want to be, and make choices about what character qualities have failed me, and where I can improve and grow as a human being. I’ll do practical things, like uninstall any apps that I didn’t use all year, or give to charity any clothing items I just didn’t wear at all (why would I keep them?). I’ll consider what I learned from the past year’s reading. I’ll make a reading list for the new year. I’ll write emails and letters to far away friends who haven’t heard from me in awhile. Maybe I’ll plan a road trip down to California to see old friends? I’ll explicitly do my best to avoid “setting myself up for failure” with the kind of grand goals and resolutions that so easily fail before Spring comes. I like an easy win. lol

You know what you won’t change? (Nor will I!) The nature of change itself. It will come for all of us in its own way, on unexpected timing that is often inconvenient. There’s no avoiding that. Change is. Choosing change is a bold choice. I wish you well! It can be so exciting to take control of your circumstances in that way, by choosing to make a change. There are verbs involved; you’ll have to do the work of changing, yourself. No one can (or will) do it for you.

Here we are… Are you ready to begin again? 2025 has been a weird and often painfully discouraging year in some ways. Are you ready to do your part to make 2026 better – for everyone? What will you do? What will you change? It’s time to begin. Again.

There is no map, only fellow travelers along the way willing to share a tip, or offer a warning. Listen or don’t, either way you’re making your own journey, and having your own experience. Sometimes you’ll be the dumbest person in the room. Sometimes it won’t be about you at all. Sometimes the path is clear, the way ahead smooth and steady. Other times, every day will present some new obstacle to be overcome. I guess I’m just saying…

…Keep walking (metaphorically speaking). The “way out” is through, and ultimately, the journey is the destination.

The co-work space is hushed and empty, this morning. I am alone for now, and it will be hours before anyone else shows up to do the things they do to bring home a paycheck, pay the bills, feed their families, and get by for another handful of mortal days. Yeesh. That sounds sort of gloomy, doesn’t it? I sigh to myself. I’ll admit that I’ve been yearning for some kind of retirement, or other opportunity to exit the treadmill of the modern workforce since I was… 17, and just joining the Army. Honestly, one of the selling points of that adventure was being able to “retire” at 38. I probably should have done more homework on that notion – since the practical truth of it is that very few people who retire from the military at 38 are actually able to properly retire at that point. Most go on to some second career, and work until some more typical retirement age, if they are able to retire at all. There’s no point holding back the truth of it; the military does not pay well. Those retirement benefits are often not sufficient to afford even a working-class quality of life, unless one is fortunate almost to the point of ridiculous luck, and living quite a charmed life, indeed. Again and again, I’ve looked ahead to some milestone and hoped to be done with “gainful employment” by then, only to find myself reaching that point quite unprepared to be able to retire (for a variety of reasons, some to do with me, some to do with circumstances). Our dreams and our realities don’t necessarily intersect in some fortuitous way that results in a fairytale life of leisure and good company. Mostly they don’t, actually, and we live the lives we work (sometimes too hard) to have, and we get by on some combination of circumstances and decision-making that falls short of our fantasties – that’s just real. No point being unhappy about that; reality does not care what we yearn for in our fondest daydreams. Everything we want in life has some sort of cost.

…Keep walking, and make wise choices…

I pull myself more upright, and take some deep cleansing breaths. My headache is not as bad today as it was yesterday, and I’m grateful – yesterday’s headache was much, and I got very little done as a result. My arthritis pain is what it is – and it’s winter, so what it is, is pretty awful. I shrug to myself, an expression of some combination of feeling resigned to it, and also being mostly rather unbothered by it; it has been part of my life, year after year, for close to 36 years now, slowly worsening over time. And if I had been offered a choice? Told about the arthritis is clear very certain terms? Would I have chosen not to have the surgery that kept me on my feet, and out of a wheelchair, in favor of some potential imagined future without the arthritis that would eventually develop in my spine? No, I would not have chosen to leave my shattered spine in the state it was in on some fantasy hope that it might magically heal on its own. There was no scenario – no realistic scenario – that was going to see me pain free in my 40s, 50s, and 60s. That would have been magical thinking, and the consequences would likely have been worse than any I deal with now. I’d have been seeing the world from a different vantage point, too (a wheelchair). Very few of the trails I am so fortunate to be able to enjoy walking are accessible to someone in a wheelchair. I take a moment for gratitude; I do love seeing those sunrises from the trail.

…Chronic pain is nothing if not ongoing. It could be worse, though. I got good sleep last night, and I face the new day feeling mostly pretty chill and comfortable, mostly pretty prepared. It is an ordinary enough work day, and the pain I’m in is manageable. I make a point to be grateful for that, too.

Are you making careful choices, or following along with someone else’s?

Our individual journeys are paved with our choices, our decision-making, our actions – and we’re walking a path that we largely create ourselves, moment-by-moment. Where does this path lead? Does it have any potential to take me to my goals? I sit with my coffee, reflecting on my life, my decisions, the consequences of my actions, and incremental changes over time. The new year is ahead. Am I the woman I most want to be? Are my day-to-day actions aligned with my values? Are my choices a reflection of consideration and will? Am I getting all I can out of this journey that is my lived mortal life? If I could change one detail of “who I am” effortless, like toggling a switch, what would that detail be? What would I change it to? Having identified this detail as something I’d like to change – am I prepared to then also make the choices and do the work to see it change over time? I think about how long it can take to make some kinds of changes really “stick”. It can be so much work! Sometimes the path seems unreasonably long as it stretches ahead of me. Sometimes that distance is an illusion. Your results may vary… We do become what we practice. Choose wisely.

…Keep walking…

I think about the pleasant holiday, and the weekend. I feel fortunate to have enjoyed both so thoroughly. I think about the gifts, the sweets, the moments, each so very beautiful, so delightful. We didn’t spend much (didn’t have much to spend), and that mattered not at all – it was all so well done, and there was so much love and genuine joy involved. The company was good. The food was good. The amount of consideration given to each other was exceptional. Presence definitely mattered more than presents, this year – and I’m grateful for all of it.

Stickers, and a novel I’ve never read – simple joys are worth savoring.

I sigh contentedly. I don’t need more out of this moment than I’ve already got. I’ve even got some time before work to enjoy a walk through this suburban neighborhood, still lit with holiday lights. After that? Another opportunity to begin again.

Giftmas comes and goes. It was delightful. I sit with my thoughts for a little while, waiting for the sun, or perhaps for the rain to slow to a sprinkle. This particular Giftmas is one to remember fondly, for sure; it was lovely from the first sip of my morning coffee to the last quiet moment as I drifted off to sleep. “No notes.” I wouldn’t change a thing about the holiday this year, even if I could.

The delights of this particularly good Giftmas holiday reminded me how little it is about the money being spent. This is a holiday season of limited resources for many people (including us), and we kept our budgets pretty minimal for this gifting holiday. More went into shared experiences, and far less into individual gifts. That’s okay, too. It was a fantastic holiday. (I hope yours was, too.) It was enough, and felt incredibly warm and connected and satisfying. Joyful.

… And it’s on to the next one; New Year’s Eve and day are coming up next, and only days away. Different celebration, different meaning and different milestones to observe. This year, as with every year of my adulthood, I’ll take One Hour for myself, at some point during the day, and I’ll honor the holiday by taking down all the holiday decor and putting it away again for another year. I find that it symbolizes change and renewal beautifully. It’s my way.

The rain stops. It’s still dark, and my boots hit the pavement with an unexpected splash; I am parked in a slight low spot, and step directly into a puddle in the darkness. I shrug that off, hopping quickly to dry pavement without soaking my boots through. Wet feet make an uncomfortable walk. I take my time, appreciative that for the moment, my feet don’t hurt. (I’ve been dealing with a flare up of plantar fasciitis for a few days.)

I thought about the holidays from this in between moment, as I walked to my halfway point. Capella (I think) is bright in the night sky, visible in a break in the clouds. I marvel silently over the gifts that stand out most in my recollection, some of which are promises of future delight (an interesting spice blend in a really cute little tin comes to mind), and others that will provide lasting comfort and joyful recollection (ooh, fuzzy warm spa socks!). Coloring books. (Yep, I’m a grown woman and an artist of many years experience – I still manage to be thoroughly delighted by a selection of cute coloring books.) lol I feel fortunate to share the holiday with people who get that what matters most is something unrelated to money. It’s the connection, the warmth, the sharing, and the sentimental fun of it all, far more than anything to do with a pricetag, I think.

… For a moment I wonder about what the person who won the more than one billion dollar Powerball prize on Giftmas Eve may have felt, somewhere in Arkansas (definitely a life-changing amount of money)…

The clock keeps on ticking, the wheel keeps turning, as the seasons change, and each milestone in a single human life is reached, then recedes into memory. This journey is the destination. How many steps (and practices, and changes over time) went into getting to this moment, and this beautiful holiday? So many. You may not be where you want to be in your life, right now, but you can choose to walk a path that may get you there – no guarantees that once you reach one goal or another that you will still see that outcome as “what you want” once you have achieved it. We’re somewhat more complicated than that, and we tend to “move the goalposts” as we play the game. There’s no map. No user’s guide. You choose your path. You define what success looks like. You do the work. Your life, on your terms – if you choose to accept the responsibility.

I sit at my halfway point watching the stars overhead twinkling brightly. It barely feels like winter here at all. The atmospheric river that brought the rain also brought these very mild temperatures. Like most things, it’s not likely to last. Winter will bring its icy blast at some point, but for now I enjoy the mild morning. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and take a few minutes in the predawn stillness for meditation.

Daybreak comes, the sky begins to lighten, I begin again; this path isn’t going to walk itself!