My cheeks ached from smiling. I pushed the hair out of my face and continued to dance, pausing for just a moment while we yelled in unison: “5, 4, 3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!” My heart swelled in my chest as I looked around me. We danced, we sang, and we celebrated. I could not have asked for a sweeter finale to 2019. Standing beside one of my best friends on her wedding day was a blessing and a privilege. Under twinkly lights in a tent in Austin, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. It’s a feeling I want to capture in a jar and save forever.
2019: my first full year living in Seattle. The year I ran my first marathon. The year I went overnight backpacking for the first time. The year I skied my first double-black diamond. It was the year I started teaching a weekly yoga class. The year I took an international flight solo. The year I saw a bear in the wild for the first time.
2019: also the year that I started to realize I can’t say yes to everything and everyone. The year I learned that tough and honest conversations are part of growing up and not something to shy away from. The year I realized that showing up alone is not just okay, it can actually be really fun. The year I learned I can tolerate an incredible amount of discomfort.
Waiting to board my flight to Austin for Brooke and Jeff’s New Year’s Eve wedding, I glanced through unread emails on my phone, and one in particular caught my attention. “Screw resolutions. Set meaningful resolutions instead. Here’s how.” Not entirely convinced there really is a difference between resolutions and intentions, I opened up the article.
While resolutions can often be rooted in a conditioned fear from the past or a future worry, intentions are often less rigid, more so “declarations of what you desire and consciously intend to be, learn, do, have, feel, or experience in a coming period of time” writes Tara-Nicolle Nelson.
So why bother setting intentions? Having a well-set intention is like putting “a statement of pure, clear, decisive focus” on something out in the world, and the act of doing it “kickstarts the process of aligning your whole being” Nelson writes. Resolutions can often lead to an unhealthy attachment to the outcome, but intentions are less rigid and therefore less likely to create an obsessive focus with achieving a specific goal.
For me, reflecting on the prior year and deciding intentions for the year ahead felt like an opportunity to quell the anxiety I always feel around New Year’s Day, and instead see the New Year as an opportunity to shift and realign. The hype that surrounds the new year can be suffocating – and dreaming up rigid resolutions often feels like I’m setting myself up to fail.
By setting an intention at the start of the year vs. a resolution, I’m challenged throughout the year to see how my thoughts, beliefs, relationships, and choices that follow stack up against that new focus.
“Intentions are the starting point of every dream – the seed of creation” Deepak Chopra
Before looking forward to 2020 though, Nelson stressed the importance of properly digesting the prior year and not focusing on what was missed in 2019. Celebrating and reveling in learnings, wins, and experiences is a way to cultivate more of the same in the new year.
Reflecting on 2019, there are a lot of sweet memories I want to savor.
In 2019, I taught over seventy yoga classes to both strangers and friends and know my regular students by name. I bought fabric at a market and sewed curtains instead of buying a set. I continued to read, write, and take photographs even though the year felt like the busiest year of my life.
In 2020, I intend to continue to find creative outlets and share my excitement and passion with those that I love.
In 2019, I fell in love with cooking all over again. I became a regular at the Ballard Farmer’s Market and even have my favorite vendors – for granola, tuna, yogurt, cheese, bone broth, and vegetables of course. Thanks to nearly six months of marathon training, my cravings for real and nourishing foods were amplified and I tore my way through the recipes in Run Fast. Eat Slow.
In 2020, I intend to continue nourishing my body with feel-good food and supporting local farmers and makers.
In 2019, I appreciated the distinctive beauty of the Pacific Northwest. Seared in my memory is the view looking west from my block out on the Olympics, watching a glowing sunset with a friend on Sunset Hill, and bluebird days at Crystal when Rainier looks close enough to touch. I cherish the moments running around Lake Union in the summer sunshine and paddle-boarding Green Lake on a weekday evening.
In 2019, I left cell service behind to venture deep into the woods on multiple backpacking trips. I laid on my back stargazing for hours and had those honest and raw conversations that you can really only have when you’re deep in the woods. I hiked for 18 miles to eat a famous Cinnamon Roll from the Stehekin Pastry Company. I woke up at 4AM and huddled outside of a visitor center for an elusive and popular overnight backpacking permit.
In 2020, I intend to continue spending time soaking up the sunshine (and the rain).
In 2019, I appreciated the unique beauty that is quintessentially Seattle. Sitting at the window table at Joe Bar and appreciating my bird’s eye view of the street traffic on the other side of the glass. In 2019, I appreciated the beauty of having traditions with close friends in what used to feel like an unfamiliar city – dinner dates at Araya’s place with Steph and morning runs with Amy (or what we affectionately call our glow-light-party-runs thanks to our new glowing safety gear).
This year, I shared my love for this city with friends and family. Preparing for a backpacking trip, my dad climbed into tents with me at the REI Flagship Store to make sure I picked the perfect one. When Jocelyn visited, she talked the bouncer into letting us sneak into the last set of a concert, ate hot dogs from a cart in Capitol Hill, and stayed up so late singing and dancing.
In 2020, I intend to create more traditions that make this city feel like home.
In 2019, I pushed my body physically and mentally to see my limit. I ran the Iron Horse Half Marathon with a smile (until about mile 12) – nailing a new PR and sub 8-minute pace. I ran my first marathon and capped the year with over 700 miles of running under my feet.
In 2020, I intend to take care of my body and trust that it can do amazing things (maybe even a BQ?)
In 2019, I skied more days in one season than the last three years combined. I successfully navigated my way through public transit in London without Wifi or cell service to meet my sister and friends in a pub. I took jumping pictures in front of the Olympic National Park sign with my Mom and Dad. I was intentional about making time to reunite with friends who are scattered across the continent. I danced all night to country music with friends in Calgary.
I flew to LA to see John Mayer perform in concert and spend a weekend in the sunshine with my cousin and sister. I witnessed dear friends walk down the aisle and exchange vows. I cheered for a friend who completed her first ultra-marathon. I glissaded down a snowfield in July. I threw a football on the sandy shores of a lake and capped the day off with a beer in an old saloon. I devoured the best Italian food in an old mining town in rural Idaho.
In 2020, I intend to find unexpected tidbits of joy and gems amidst the crazy. I’m inviting more moments of exploration and connection.
I intend to continue to find hidden corners of the world that make me smile. To spend more time with the people who feel like sunshine. To continue to seek out the experiences that scare me and make me feel alive. To find joy in both the new and the familiar and to have a ton of fun with each and every detour.
But what am I leaving in 2019? I am releasing my grasp on trying to have everything figured out. This year, I’m letting go of projecting – projecting that back-to-back weekend plans will leave me exhausted, overwhelmed, or tired, projecting on people I know and love that they should act a certain way or make choices that I would make, projecting that showing up to events alone will mean I’m awkward and I won’t be able to make friends.
Energy is currency – be careful what you spend it on
Instead, I’m focusing on nurturing the good – prioritizing the people and relationships who give me energy and telling friends and strangers alike that I appreciate them and value what they do and how they make me feel. I promise to care for myself the way I would care for someone that I love. I promise to pay close attention to biofeedback – taking note of how environments, people, and experiences make me feel. I intend to embrace being a beginner and trying new things, even if they scare me.
For 2020, I intend to seek out and find the moments where I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
What are you cultivating in 2020?
