In 2022, my word was FORGIVE. Which is a weird one. It’s just now starting to become clear for me why that was the vibe I needed. I wish I would have tried to emulate it a little more heartily—it would have saved some heartache. Maybe a better word would have been FLEXIBLE, but it doesn’t encompass the letting-go-ness of FORGIVE.
I did need flexibility. I needed to be loose, agile, and responsive. The things we faced were often brittle and unyielding (snapping bones, yeesh). But FORGIVE meant I also needed softening, expanding. I needed to consciously choose how I would react and how I would let things affect me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t quite as soft as I wish I’d been. I was angry. SO angry. Most of the year. Inflexible and intractable as I navigated the things I didn’t want to navigate.
In 2022, I lived like a quirky side character or, at best, a protagonist. Thrown about by the whims of a chaotic author and constrained by the limits of genre. I felt angry, stymied, out of control. I needed a birds-eye view. Exposition? Who is she?
I am seeing so much clarity at this end of 2022. The best moments were the ones in which I did strive to live from a place of forgiveness toward everyone and everything. I got there. Not as gracefully as if I would have truly embraced a spirit of forgiveness 365, but I got there. I let so much go last year. I feel almost weightless.
My Word for 2023
Story
In the past couple of years, my reading has taken a dramatic shift to fiction. I have always loved fiction, but as an adult I favored nonfiction. Until about two years ago, when I needed more mental relief. Immersing myself in fiction has been SO awesome. You would think that it would have prepared me to identify the plot twists and character development occurring in my own life last year.
And now I want to live like an author. Or perhaps a voracious reader enjoying the plot from my comfy chair.
I’m not sure why I felt like my arc ended as a mom of young children. I’m not sure why I was surprised that my character development was going to throw me for a loop—it happens to all the best protagonists!!!! And I INTEND to be a GOOD ONE.
This year it’s about stories. My story. The plot devices that pop up in my own life. The small catastrophes that are actually inciting incidents and calls to adventure.
It’s about seeing that larger picture. When something inconvenient happens in my book I might be shocked, but I take it in stride. I might even pop some popcorn because I understand—that’s how stories work. It’s ~doing something for the character, or for the story at large.
It’s about noticing the stories I’m telling myself, and others. Am I making decisions about someone else’s story when I haven’t read it? When it’s incomplete? Am I telling myself a story about them, about myself, about our circumstances? And is it a good one?
My total faith crisis made me feel like my entire manuscript was corrupted. Instead, I’m entering 2023 with the understanding that everything up to this point was prologue, exposition, and the inciting incident of discovering that my rock solid foundation was crumbling from beneath me.
Everything from here forward? THAT’S the real story. I get to write it. I get to face mountains and dragons and self-discovery. I get to decide and I get to live it.
This year I’m going to study story structure, the hero’s journey, and read more mindfully the pieces of fiction that are compelling to me. I’m going to write more—in fact, that’s my only resolution—daily writing. I’m going to try to practice more introspection into my own life and whatever my plot reveals itself to be.
2023 is all about STORY, so pick up a pen or crack open a book, besties.
